Visit from Westerville Kinfolk

While the memories are not completely unfresh, a note or two to accompany a visit from Stu and Sue and Kevin and Emily. Emily came several days ahead of the crew and enjoyed some of the fine summer living in Rochester. She also gave of her time many times to watch Sam so Susan could work towards an upcoming deadline.
Sue, as always, charmed Sam, reading him new books they brought for him.
Kevin and Sam get along better and better. Kevin continue to upbraid those who he perceives as picking on Sam (sadly, that's usually Susan and I!). And Sam grows more and more aware of Kevin, thinking about what Kevin might like, and trying to get inside Kevin's head.
Finally, Stu set dangerous precedents in gymnastic activity, tossing Sam around and generating gales of giggly laughter and shouts for More! (And that's not to mention Uncle Stu's hard work and guidance in upgrading the downstairs bathroom!)
Much fun was had by all in this far-too-short visit. Stu and Sue, come back soon, and stay longer! You and yours are sorely missed.

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Supplementary notes: Sam's sleeping and dreaming have been much on our minds, since he hasn't been doing enough of either. Since the Great Denukification he's had troubling falling asleep, and his bedtime's slipped to 10:15ish pm, which is unacceptable and downright horrendous. But as always there have been amusing moments. The other night I was trying to get him to sleep by first holding him in my lap so he wouldn't wiggle (if he's ever still for 60 s, he's out) and dropping lullabies on him, then finally letting him back in his bed, when I realized how unhealthy it seemed to torturously force immobility for the sake of sleep. I decided at that point to just leave him for 10 minutes to see if he would fall asleep on his own, and he said, "Good--I could use some peace and quiet!"

Last night while lying in a dark room after half an hour of struggling to imbibe the lethe, he said, "Daddy, sleeping is hard" (and the wording may be off). Filled with sympathy I started saying how sleeping's easy, it's falling asleep which is tough, when he continued, "I wish I could eat chocolate day after day after day after day after day..." Fair enough--true, if unrelated.

I may give the impression he's always eloquent beyond his years, but I may not also convey how random the 3-yr-old mind can be. Last weekend when he knew I was recording his words, he had many things to share:

• I wish I could live in a chocolate house. (Sense a theme here?)
  
• I want to eat every thing that's made out of candy except the sky. (Definitely a theme.)
  
• I wish that everything turned into a bicycle when I touched the walls. (Here he's definitely just going for attention because he knows I am going to tell Susan later what he said.)