At the moment Lowe is obsessed with strollers. He wakes up in the morning, walks out of his bedroom door, climbs the steps into the cockpit, walks around to the gate, and proceeds to throw a fit until he is pushing Ouest’s pink doll stroller along the dock. One of us follows along one step behind him just waiting for him to walk right off the dock, but so far he’s always managed to stop himself just short.

This sure looks like a boat that is going places doesn’t it? This life of leisure can feel like anything but, sometimes. It’s almost impossible to believe that we’ll pull out of here sometime in the next few weeks; certainly before Ouest’s third birthday. Somehow we always manage to get our act together, throw everything aboard, turn the key, and float on out to sea. Small miracles.

Lowe is into throwing things off the boat. Buckets, brushes, hats, you name it, it’s been in the drink. He’ll do it while brazenly staring you right in your eyes too. Certain things about the boat were so much easier with Ouest at this age. She never bothered with climbing up the stairs. Lowe can’t stay away from them for more than a minute at a time. Ouest never threw things off the boat just to see what would happen. With Lowe you can practically see the gears turning in his head when he has something in his hand while on deck.