Category Archives: Family

Martha the Pilot

Martha, now 5, can’t remember a time when she didn’t fly periodically. She’s come along in our airplane in short flights to a nearby restaurant and long ones to Michigan and South Dakota. All this time, she’s been riding in the back seat next to Laura.

Martha has been talking excitedly about riding up front next to me. She wants to “be my co-pilot”. I promised to give her an airplane wing pin when she did — one I got from a pilot of a commercial flight when I was a kid. Of course, safety was first, so I wanted to be sure she was old enough to fly there without being a distraction.

Last weekend, the moment finally arrived. She was so excited! She brought along her “Claire bear” aviator, one that I bought for her at an airport a little while back. She buckled in two of her dolls in the back seat.

Martha's dolls

And then up we went!

Martha in the airplane

Martha was so proud when we landed! We went to Stearman Field, just a short 10-minute flight away, and parked the plane right in front of the restaurant.

We flew back, and Martha thought we should get a photo of her standing on the wing by the door. Great idea!

Martha standing on the wing

She was happily jabbering about the flight all the way home. She told us several times about the pin she got, watching out the window, watching all the screens in the airplane, and also that she didn’t get sick at all despite some turbulence.

And, she says, “Now just you and I can go flying!”

Yes, that’s something I’m looking forward to!

Flying Joy

Wisdom from my 5-year-old: When flying in a small plane, it is important to give your dolls a headset and let them see out the window, too!

Moments like this make me smile at being a pilot dad.

A week ago, I also got to give 8 children and one adult their first ever ride in any kind of airplane, through EAA’s Young Eagles program. I got to hear several say, “Oh wow! It’s SO beautiful!” “Look at all the little houses!”

And my favorite: “How can I be a pilot?”

Thanksgiving in 2020

With COVID-19, Thanksgiving is a little different this year.

The kids enjoyed doing a little sightseeing by air – in our own plane (all socially-distanced of course!). We built a Prusa 3D printer from a kit (the boys and I, though Martha checked in periodically too). It arrived earlier than expected so that kept us busy for several days. And, of course, there was the Christmas decorating and Zoom church (where only our family is in the building, hosting the service for everyone).

What, so Thanksgiving doesn’t normally involve assembling printers, sightseeing from the sky, and printing tiny cups and dishes for miniature houses on a 3D printer?

I’ll be glad when COVID is over. Meantime, we have some memories to treasure too.

Treasuring Moments

“Treasure the moments you have. Savor them for as long as you can, for they will never come back again.”

– J. Michael Straczynski

This quote sits on a post-it note on my desk. Here are some moments of our fast-changing little girl that I’m remembering today — she’s almost 2!

Brothers & Sister

Martha loves to play with her siblings. She has names for them — Jacob is “beedoh” and Oliver is “ah-wah”. When she sees them come home, she gets a huge smile and will screech with excitement. Then she will ask them to play with her.

She loves to go down the slide with Jacob. “Beedoh sigh?” (Jacob slide) — that’s her request. He helps her up, then they go down together. She likes to swing side-by-side with Oliver. “Ahwah sing” (Oliver swing) when she wants him to get on the swing next to her. The boys enjoy teaching her new words and games.

[Video: Martha and Jacob on the slide]

Music

Martha loves music! To her, “sing” is a generic word for music. If we’re near a blue speaker, she’ll say “boo sing” (blue sing) and ask for it to play music.

But her favorite request is “daddy sing.” It doesn’t mean she wants me to sing. No, she wants me to play my xaphoon (a sax-like instrument). She’ll start jumping, clapping, and bopping her head to the music. Her favorite spot to do this is a set of soft climbing steps by the piano.

But that’s not enough — next she pulls out our hymnbooks and music books and pretends to sing along. “Wawawawawawa the end!”

If I decide to stop playing, that is most definitely not allowed. “Daddy sing!” And if I don’t comply, she gets louder and more insistent: “DADDY SING.”

[Videos: Martha singing and reading from hymn books, singing her ABCs]

Airplanes

Martha loves airplanes. She started to be able to say “airplane” — first “peen”, then “airpeen”, and now “airpane!” When we’re outside and she hears any kind of buzzing that might possibly be a plane, I’m supposed to instantly pick her up and carry her past our trees so we can look for it. “AIRPANE! AIRPANE! Ho me?” (hold me) Then when we actually see a plane, it’s “Airpane! Hi airpane!” And as it flies off, “Bye-bye airpane. Bye-bye. [sadly] Airpane all done.”

One day, Martha was trying to see airplanes, but it was cloudy. I bundled her up and we went to our local GA airport and stood in the grass watching planes. Now that was a hit! Now anytime Martha sees warehouse-type buildings, she thinks they are hangars, and begs to go to the airport. She loves to touch the airplane, climb inside it, and look at the airport beacon — even if we won’t be flying that day.

[Video: Hi big plane!]

Martha getting ready for a flight

This year, for Mother’s Day, we were going to fly to a nearby airport with a restaurant on the field. I took a photo of our family by the plane before we left. All were excited!

Mother’s Day photo

Mornings

We generally don’t let Martha watch TV, but make a few exceptions for watching a few videos and looking at family pictures. Awhile back, Martha made asked to play with me while I was getting ready for the day. “Martha, I have to get dressed first. Then I’ll play with you.” “OK,” she said.

She ran off into the closet, and came back with what she could reach of my clothing – a dirty shirt, and handed it up to me to wear. I now make sure to give her the chance to bring me socks, shirts, etc. And especially shoes. She really likes to bring me shoes.

Then we go downstairs. Sometimes she sits on my lap in the office and we watch Youtube videos of owls or fish. Or sometimes we go downstairs and start watching One Six Right, a wonderful aviation documentary. She and I jabber about what we see — she can identify the beacon (“bee”), big hangar door (“bih doh”), airplanes of different colors (“yellow one”), etc. She loves to see a little Piper Cub fly over some cows, and her favorite shot is a plane that flies behind the control tower at sunset. She’ll lean over and look for it as if it’s going around a corner.

Sometimes we look at family pictures and videos. Her favorite is a video of herself in a plane, jabbering and smiling. She’ll ask to watch it again and again.

Bedtime

Part of our bedtime routine is that I read a story to Martha. For a long time, I read her The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle. She loved that book, and one night said “geecko” for pickle. She noticed I clapped for it, and so after that she always got excited for the geeckos and would clap for them.

Lately, though, she wants the “airpane book” – Clair Bear’s First Solo. We read through that book, she looks at the airplanes that fly, and always has an eye out for the “yellow one” and “boo one” (blue plane). At the end, she requests “more pane? More pane?”

After that, I wave goodnight to her. She used to wave back, but now she says “Goodnight, daddy!” and heads on up the stairs.

Memories, Father’s Day, and an 89-year-old plane

“Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things”

– John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

I clicked on the radio transmitter in my plane.

O’Neill Traffic, Bonanza xx departing to the south. And Trimotor, thanks for flight . We really enjoyed it.

And we had. Off to my left, a 1929 Ford Trimotor airliner was heading off into the distance, looking as if it were just hanging in the air, glinting in the morning sun, 1000 feet above the ground. Earlier that morning, my boys and I had been passengers in that very plane. But now we had taken off right after them, as they were taking another load of passengers up for a flight and we were flying back home. To my right was my 8-year-old, and my 11-year-old was in back, both watching out the windows. The radio clicked on, and the three of us heard the other pilot’s response:

Oh thank you. We’re glad you came!

A few seconds later, they were gone out of sight.

The experience of flying in an 89-year-old airliner is quite something. As with the time we rode on the Durango & Silverton railroad, it felt like stepping back into a time machine — into the early heyday of aviation.

Jacob and Oliver had been excited about this day a long time. We had tried to get a ride when it was on tour in Oklahoma, much closer, but one of them got sick on the drive that day and it didn’t work out. So Saturday morning, we took the 1.5-hour-flight up to northern Nebraska. We’d heard they’d have a pancake breakfast fundraiser, and the boys were even more excited. They asked to set the alarm early, so we’d have no risk of missing out on airport pancakes.

Jacob took this photo of the sunrise at the airport while I was doing my preflight checks:

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Here’s one of the beautiful views we got as we flew north to meet the Trimotor.

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It was quite something to share a ramp with that historic machine. Here’s a photo of our plane not far from the Trimotor.

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After we got there, we checked in for the flight, had a great pancake and sausage breakfast, and then into the Trimotor. The engines fired up with a most satisfying low rumble, and soon we were aloft — cruising along at 1000 feet, in that (by modern standards) noisy, slow, and beautiful machine. We explored the Nebraska countryside from the air before returning 20 minutes later. I asked the boys what they thought.

“AWESOME!” was the reply. And I agreed.

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Jacob and Oliver have long enjoyed pretending to be flight attendants when we fly somewhere. They want me to make airline-sounding announcements, so I’ll say something like, “This is your captain speaking. In a few moments, we’ll begin our descent into O’Neill. Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for arrival.” Then Jacob will say, “Please return your tray tables that you don’t have to their full upright and locked position, make sure your seat belt is tightly fastened, and your luggage is stowed. This is your last chance to visit the lavatory that we don’t have. We’ll be on the ground shortly.”

Awhile back, I loaded up some zip-lock bags with peanuts and found some particularly small bottles of pop. Since then, it’s become tradition on our longer flights for them to hand out bags of peanuts and small quantities of pop as we cruise along — “just like the airlines.” A little while back, I finally put a small fridge in the hangar so they get to choose a cold beverage right before we leave. (We don’t typically have such things around, so it’s a special treat.)

Last week, as I was thinking about Father’s Day, I told them how I remembered visiting my dad at work, and how he’d let me get a bottle of Squirt from the pop machine there (now somewhat rare). So when we were at the airport on Saturday, it brought me a smile to hear, “DAD! This pop machine has Squirt! Can we get a can? It’s only 75 cents!” “Sure – after our Trimotor flight.” “Great! Oh, thank you dad!”

I realized then I was passing a small but special memory on to another generation. I’ve written before of my childhood memories of my dad, and wondering what my children will remember of me. Martha isn’t old enough yet to remember her cackles of delight as we play peek-a-boo or the books we read at bedtime. Maybe Jacob and Oliver will remember our flights, or playing with mud, or researching dusty maps in a library, playing with radios, or any of the other things we do. Maybe all three of them will remember the cans of Squirt I’m about to stock that hangar fridge with.

But if they remember that I love them and enjoy doing things with them, they will have remembered the most important thing. And that is another special thing I got from my parents, and can pass on to another generation.

A Grand Adventure: Sailing the Springtime Sky

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

– Khalil Gibran

To be a pilot of a small plane is to be a scientist, a mathematician, and a poet. We read charts, analyze weather reports and forecasts, calculating what the headwinds will do to our fuel situation.

But in the end, the wise ones let the earth speak to us through these charts, and go where it invites us — where the skies are smooth and blue.

And so it was last week that we did not go to California as planned, but instead to the mountains near Santa Fe, a canyon near Amarillo, and a remote museum in far southwest Kansas — all the while hearing the delighted exclamations of “wow!” from our children.

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As we sailed along up there in our flying machine, down below we saw the rugged, craggy mesas of New Mexico, here and there punctuated by a lake, a little town, or an isolated airport — each a friendly sight in its own way. Our boys read some books, and sometimes pressed their noses to the windows, while little Martha mostly slept and sometimes played or ate — she enjoys flying more than driving.

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Mountains have a way of reminding us all that the earth is larger than we are. We drive around them, fly around them, and even on a pleasant day they make the air bumpy. But once down on the ground, Oliver got out of the plane, and looked at the mountains all around us. He couldn’t stop saying “Wow! Dad, wow! Amazing! Look at that!” Jacob was more excited that an American Airlines plane was taxiing by right where we had been a minute before.

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The boys helped us plan our trip. They’re the ones that chose for us to head southwest, and the thing on their Santa Fe agenda was riding the New Mexico Rail Runner Express. So, despite a strong and cold wind, ride it we did, all the way to Albuquerque for pizza, then back to Santa Fe. When they weren’t busy listening to the “meep meep” sound the doors make when they’re about to close, they were excitedly reading the timetable or taking in the world as it whizzed past their window.

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Martha, too, took in the train — though she still enjoyed her chew toys. Those things out the window don’t fit into a mouth so easily.

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Up in the mountains, the Puye Cliff Dwellings brought home the history of the place. The stories of the peaceful people that lived there, told by their descendants, members of the Santa Clara pueblo. Our guide Elijah picked up a shard of pottery, many of which remain on the mesa. He explained why there were no intact pottery examples up there. When his ancestors were done with a pot, then would throw it on the ground, shattering it — to give it back with thanks to the earth from where it came. One gets the sense that these ancient peoples knew quite a few things that our modern societies have not yet learned.

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After a full day, a cool evening in our hotel was welcome. Our room had a wood-burning fireplace, burning the pinyon pine that gives Santa Fe such a distinct sweet smell in the winter. Jacob would gaze into the fireplace for quite awhile.

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I have never seen a photo do justice to Palo Duro Canyon. As you drive along the desolate, high Texas prairie, complete with tumbleweeds, all of a sudden you go around a corner and the earth opens up. It’s the “painted canyon” for a reason, and even though we’d been there before, as we rounded that bend, I heard exclamations of “Dad, this is AMAZING” from the back seat once again.

The vastness of the place cannot be captured on a screen. How can one capture 60 miles of color, ridges and gorges stretching out into the horizon, in a few inches?

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The boys were excited, bubbly, and bouncy as we hiked along some trails on the canyon floor. They’d make up games to play, most of which involved teasing me in some way.

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Oliver particularly loved to tease me.

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Jacob insisted I take a picture with him and Martha.

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But even these excited, bubbly kids would stop to reflect sometimes. Sometimes Jacob would say, “Dad, I have GOT to take a picture of this!” And sometimes they would just stare, maybe even with a mouth agape. Children know beauty, too.

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The three siblings delight in each other, too. Oliver would play a version of peek-a-boo, saying “I’m alive! Horse pill!” (he’d say silly things, and whatever made Martha laugh he’d keep saying.)

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All told, we traveled over a thousand miles by air, spending some 7 or 8 hours in the plane. Had we attempted to drive it, it would have been more than 30 hours. There’s something amazing about seeing so much of the world in such a short amount of time.

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Perhaps this is why many pilots secretly give their plane a little pat after a long journey. After all the smiles, laughter, the memories, the feeling of being part of sky — if you pay attention, it truly is more poetry than physics.

And that is why, though it is always nice to return to our home, in my mind’s eye, the hangar door is always open.

The Big Green Weasel Song

One does not normally get into one’s car intending to sing about barfing green weasels to the tune of a Beethoven symphony for a quarter of an hour. And yet, somehow, that’s what I wound up doing today.

Little did I know that when Jacob started band last fall, it would inspire him to sing about weasels to the tune of Beethoven’s 9th. That may come as a surprise to his band teacher, too, who didn’t likely expect that having the kids learn the theme to the Ninth Symphony would inspire them to sing about large weasels.

But tonight, as we were driving, I mentioned that I knew the original German words. He asked me to sing. I did.

Then, of course, Jacob and Oliver tried to sing it back in German. This devolved into gibberish and a fit of laughter pretty quick, and ended with something sounding like “schneezel”. So of course, I had to be silly and added, “I have a big green weasel!”

From then on, they were singing about big green weasels. It wasn’t long before they decided they would sing “the chorus” and I was supposed to improvise verse after verse about these weasels. Improvising to the middle of the 9th Symphony isn’t the easiest thing, but I had verses about giving weasels a hug, about weasels smelling like a bug, about a green weasel on a chair, about a weasel barfing on the stair. And soon, Jacob wanted to record the weasel song to make a CD of it. So we did, before we even got to town. Here it is:

[Youtube link]

I love to hear children delight in making music. And I love to hear them enjoying Beethoven. Especially with weasels.

I just wonder what will happen when they learn about Mozart.

The Yellow House Phone Company (Featuring Asterisk and an 11-year-old)

“Well Jacob, do you think we should set up our own pretend phone company in the house?”

“We can DO THAT?”

“Yes!”

“Then… yes. Yes! YES YES YESYESYESYES YES! Let’s do it, dad!”

Not long ago, my parents had dug up the old phone I used back in the day. We still have a landline, and Jacob was having fun discovering how an analog phone works. I told him about the special number he could call to get the time and temperature read out to him. He discovered what happens if you call your own number and hang up. He figured out how to play “Mary Had a Little Lamb” using touchtone keys (after a slightly concerned lecture from me setting out some rules to make sure his “musical dialing” wouldn’t result in any, well, dialing.)

He was hooked. So I thought that taking it to the next level would be a good thing for a rainy day. I have run Asterisk before, though I had unfortunately gotten rid of most of my equipment some time back. But I found a great deal on a Cisco 186 ATA (Analog Telephone Adapter). It has two FXS lines (FXS ports simulate the phone company, and provide dialtone and ring voltage to a connected phone), and of course hooks up to the LAN.

We plugged that in, and Jacob was amazed to see its web interface come up. I had to figure out how to configure it (unfortunately, it uses SCCP rather than SIP, and figuring out Asterisk’s chan_skinny took some doing, but we got there.)

I set up voicemail. He loved it. He promptly figured out how to record his own greetings. We set up a second phone on the other line, so he could call between them. The cordless phones in our house support SIP, so I configured one of them as a third line. He spent a long time leaving himself messages.

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Pretty soon we both started having ideas. I set up extension 777, where he could call for the time. Then he wanted a way to get the weather forecast. Well, weather-util generates a text-based report. With it, a little sed and grep tweaking, the espeak TTS engine, and a little help from sox, I had a shell script worked up that would read back a forecast whenever he called a certain extension. He was super excited! “That’s great, dad! Can it also read weather alerts too?” Sure! weather-util has a nice option just for that. Both boys cackled as the system tried to read out the NWS header (their timestamps like 201711031258 started with “two hundred one billion…”)

Then I found an online source for streaming NOAA Weather Radio feeds – Jacob enjoys listening to weather radio – and I set up another extension he could call to listen to that. More delight!

But it really took off when I asked him, “Would you like to record your own menu?” “You mean those things where it says press 1 or 2 for this or that?” “Yes.” “WE CAN DO THAT?” “Oh yes!” “YES, LET’S DO IT RIGHT NOW!”

So he recorded a menu, then came and hovered by me while I hacked up extensions.conf, then eagerly went back to the phone to try it. Oh the excitement of hearing hisown voice, and finding that it worked! Pretty soon he was designing sub-menus (“OK Dad, so we’ll set it up so people can press 2 for the weather, and then choose if they want weather radio or the weather report. I’m recording that now. Got it?”)

He has informed me that next Saturday we will build an intercom system “like we have at school.” I’m going to have to have some ideas on how to tie Squeezebox in with Asterisk to make that happen, I think. Maybe this will do.

The Joy of Exploring: Old Phone Systems, Pizza, and Discovery

This story involves boys pretending to be pizza deliverymen using a working automated Strowger telephone exchange demonstrator on display in a museum, which is very old and is, to my knowledge, the only such working exhibit in the world. (Yes, I have video.) But first, a thought on exploration.

There are those that would say that there is nothing left to explore anymore – that the whole earth is mapped, photographed by satellites, and, well, known.

I prefer to look at it a different way: the earth is full of places that billions of people will never see, and probably don’t even know about. Those places may be quiet country creeks, peaceful neighborhoods one block away from major tourist attractions, an MTA museum in Brooklyn, a state park in Arkansas, or a beautiful church in Germany.

Martha is not yet two months old, and last week she and I spent a surprisingly long amount of time just gazing at tree branches — she was mesmerized, and why not, because to her, everything is new.

As I was exploring in Portland two weeks ago, I happened to pick up a nearly-forgotten book by a nearly-forgotten person, Beryl Markham, a woman who was a pilot in Africa about 80 years ago. The passage that I happened to randomly flip to in the bookstore, which really grabbed my attention, was this:

The available aviation maps of Africa in use at that time all bore the cartographer’s scale mark, ‘1/2,000,000’ — one over two million. An inch on the map was about thitry-two miles in the air, as compared to the flying maps of Europe on which one inch represented no more than four air miles.

Moreover, it seemed that the printers of the African maps had a slightly malicious habit of including, in large letters, the names of towns, junctions, and villages which, while most of them did exist in fact, as a group of thatched huts may exist or a water hold, they were usually so inconsequential as completely to escape discovery from the cockpit.

Beyond this, it was even more disconcerting to examine your charts before a proposed flight only to find that in many cases the bulk of the terrain over which you had to fly was bluntly marked: ‘UNSURVEYED’.

It was as if the mapmakers had said, “We are aware that between this spot and that one, there are several hundred thousands of acres, but until you make a forced landing there, we won’t know whether it is mud, desert, or jungle — and the chances are we won’t know then!”

— Beryl Markham, West With the Night

My aviation maps today have no such markings. The continent is covered with radio beacons, the world with GPS, the maps with precise elevations of the ground and everything from skyscrapers to antenna towers.

And yet, despite all we know, the world is still a breathtaking adventure.

Yesterday, the boys and I were going to fly to Abilene, KS, to see a museum (Seelye Mansion). Circumstances were such that we neither flew, nor saw that museum. But we still went to Abilene, and wound up at the Museum of Independent Telephony, a wondrous place for anyone interested in the history of technology. As it is one of those off-the-beaten-path sorts of places, the boys got 2.5 hours to use the hands-on exhibits of real old phones, switchboards, and also the schoolhouse out back. They decided — why not? — to use this historic equipment to pretend to order pizzas.

Jacob and Oliver proceeded to invent all sorts of things to use the phones for: ordering pizza, calling the cops to chase the pizza delivery guys, etc. They were so interested that by 2PM we still hadn’t had lunch and they claimed “we’re not hungry” despite the fact that we were going to get pizza for lunch. And I certainly enjoyed the exhibits on the evolution of telephones, switching (from manual plugboards to automated switchboards), and such.

This place was known – it even has a website, I had been there before, and in fact so had the boys (my parents took them there a couple of years ago). But yesterday, we discovered the Strowger switch had been repaired since the last visit, and that it, in fact, is great for conversations about pizza.

Whether it’s seeing an eclipse, discovering a fascination with tree branches, or historic telephones, a spirit of curiosity and exploration lets a person find fun adventures almost anywhere.

A new baby and deep smiles

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A month ago, we were waiting for our new baby; time seemed to stand still. Now she is here! Martha Goerzen was born recently, and she is doing well and growing! Laura and I have enjoyed moments of cuddling her, watching her stare at our faces, hearing her (hopefully) soft sounds as she falls asleep in our arms. It is also heart-warming to see Martha’s older brothers take such an interest in her. Here is the first time Jacob got to hold her:

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Oliver, who is a boy very much into sports, play involving police and firefighters, and such, has started adding “aww” and “she’s so cute!” to his common vocabulary. He can be very insistent about interrupting me to hold her, too.