Why do you call Matthew "Max?"

Blame Rosemary Wells. She wrote a series of books, which was later developed into an animated show, about two bunnies named Max and Ruby.



Max is a determined, creative, rambunctious 3-year-old, and his 7-year-old sister Ruby takes care of him but also bosses him around. Here's how a Wikipedia article describes the show:

Each episode consists of three self-contained vignettes. Within each, Ruby is typically engaged in some sort of project or activity, while Max has a particular mania of his own which either runs counter to his sister's or distracts her. Amusingly, Max's dialog within each story is usually limited to just one word or a two-word phrase, which he repeats periodically for the rest of the episode until the end, sometimes saying a different word. For example, "Tow truck!" or "Jellyballs!" By the end of the story, Max's passion often dovetails with Ruby's in some way, to her benefit and delight.

Basically, Matthew IS Max. He fixates on an idea and repeats it over and over in as simple a way as possible, refusing to be distracted, until the bigger people around him finally catch on.

About a year and a half ago, Matthew informed me that his name was now Max. I played along, figuring it'd last a couple of days and then he'd move on to another identity. Nope. This one has really stuck. He introduces himself as Max, will only answer to that name, and corrects you if you try to call him anything else. For a long time, he also called me Ruby. A few times I tried asking him, "Look, I don't mind if you call me Ruby most of the time, but will you just call me Mom ONCE, so that I know you still know who I really am?" He just looked at me like I was crazy and said, "But you're not Mom. You're Ruby!" Sigh. Thankfully, that phase did pass, and he's back to calling me Mom. (Paul still calls me Ruby, though, so there was some fallout.)

Everyone around him calls him Max--the whole family, neighbors, friends at church. His cubby and coat hook at preschool are labeled "Max," and that's the name he practices writing. I think that's just going to be his name. It's a perfectly nice name, even if it's not the one on his birth certificate. Next time you see him, make sure you call him Max!

He knows where he belongs

Max: Mom, you go in the girls' bathroom, and I'm going in the heroes' bathroom!

Hiking

One thing I love about living where we do now is that we don't have to go very far to enjoy scenery like this:



Katie and I fell a little behind the rest of the family on our hike.
See? There they are.

Katie wasn't too sure about getting dirty.
The boys were thrilled with the sticks they found. (One was even pre-whittled!)

We ate our picnic as the rain started.
I love fall!

Playing his position

Thomas is just excited to be here and happy to help out the team.
Yes, he is on the field in the middle of a game, although I didn't get any other players in the shot--probably because they were all, you know, PLAYING THE GAME at the time.

Sometimes Thomas does actually get involved in the game at hand.

Until he takes a ball in the crotch and goes down hard, which he did right after this picture was taken. That tends to dampen his enthusiasm a bit.

Matthew the Photographer

In addition to his cooking skills, Matthew has developed (hee) an interest in photography. His favorite birthday present this year was his very own camera, a Kidizoom. He's taken hundreds of photos with that thing, mostly blurry shots of the ceiling or a table leg, sometimes of his own forehead because he's holding the camera backwards. I don't have any pictures from the play camera handy, but here are a few he took the other day with the grownup camera:

Those are entirely his own effort, folks. Not bad, huh?