To "air" is human...

We've been enjoying beautiful summer evenings with minimal bugs and minimal humidity thanks to afternoon rain showers almost daily. So we've celebrated in style by eating dinner outside quite often. Michael grills while the kids play in the yard and I cook veggies or prepare a salad inside, then we all gather around our outside table under the shade of our maple tree and eat and laugh and make lots of messes that I won't have to vacuum because we're outside!

Last night we were enjoying corn on the cob and grilled chicken outside when Isaiah suddenly announced. "Hey guys, my bum just blowed some air." Michael and I were sadly unsurprised by this topic of conversation, as bodily functions are unfortunately common dinnertable discussion in our house.
"So," Michael asked rather rhetorically, "did you toot?"
"No." Isaiah replied, "I just aired."
Oh Isaiah - you practically write my blogs for me!

Melora is especially content during outside dinners. She seems to fully understand the concept that when you are outside, you can throw unwanted food on the ground. Actually, she does that inside too, so it may just be a bad habit. She also seems to love all outside food too, though. She loves grilled chicken and steak, and she loves grilled or fresh veggies. She has recently discovered the joys of corn on the cob, and for only having six teeth, she's become quite adept at eating it as well. She happily signs "more" and "please" until she is so full of good food that she smiles and signs "all done." She babbles to us and to herself constantly, and she's endlessly entertained by blowing spit bubbles and organizing her crumbs into little groups. She also likes to feed the rest of us whatever she's eating, and her favorite person to feed is, of course, Isaiah.

In fact, I think her favorite person to do anything with is Isaiah. Melora usually wakes up first, and when Isaiah finally pokes his disheveled little head around the staircase, she shrieks with delight and gives him the biggest, cheesiest grin she can fit onto her little face. So often in the car, I look back to the middle row to see her gazing at her brother with a sappy, sweet look of love on her face. And Isaiah loves her right back. He shares with her and reads to her, and if I'm ever neglecting my duty to her in any way, he lets me know that she needs milk or food or to be carried. Earlier today, I was trying to get Melora to take her morning nap (which she seems to think she doesn't need anymore.) I had patiently laid with her as she finished a warm, soothing bottle, but I realized that my presence wasn't helping her relax. So I put her in her bed and left the room. She began crying and crying while I did laundry, hoping that she would cry out her excess energy and get the rest she needed. Quite suddenly, her cries quieted, and I thought that she actually had fallen asleep. A minute later, though, Michael realized that Isaiah, unable to stand his sister being sad, had crawled into bed with her and given her a dolly to play with. We couldn't think of a single reason to reprimand his act of loving kindness.