Roosevelt Island

We spent this morning at Roosevelt Island, a little wooded dot of land across the Potomac from Georgetown that's ripe with ducks and rugged beachfront, boggy marsh and in the center of the island, a tribute to Teddy (we're on a first name basis). Paul and I used to take runs there before Harry made his appearance. We weren't sure how it would go over, but it was a huge hit. He ran down the paths, he chucked grapes at the ducks (no ducks don't really go for grapes), he craned his neck to watch the very close airplanes overhead and watched with awe as other visitors let their dogs swim in the river chasing balls and sticks. Big fun for everyone. (Harry is pictured inside a very large tree).

'Irish I were drinking'

Wanna see a couple hundred dogs dressed in green? Green fur. Green bandanas. Green hats. This dog lover was really diggin' Alexandria's St. Patrick's parade and dog show. And so was Harry, who got up close and furry with a slew of 150-pound Irish Wolfhounds and assorted mutts.

Bagpipes, kilts, Shriners in wee little orange cars, Mardi Gras beads, the Notre Dame alumni marching band (boo hiss) and one very green cupcake. It was a great afternoon. Harry even clapped when the little clogging queens stomped by. Here's a couple thousand words....

First supper

We tried in earnest to give Charlie some rice cereal yesterday. Bib on? Check. Porridge not too hot, not too cold courtesy the three bears? Check. Then I began shoveling. While Harry was a bottomless pit starting with his first spoonfuls at four months, opening his mouth wide like a baby bird anticipating a masticated worn, Charlotte is not so sure about this spoon feeding thing and clearly less keen on rice cereal. Still she gave it a good go. I got a few spoonfuls in. And alas it did nothing to aid her sleep.

Tricks of the Trade

I think I've officially figured out the afternoon nap (Harry's). Our nanny Roxana never has any trouble getting him down. She plops him in his crib, flips him on his tummy, tells him Lucy has gone "night night" in the next room and that's it. Badabing Badaboom. Mom has a little more trouble. Harry goes down, but it's usually preceded by a few minutes of whining, standing up in the crib. sometimes even tears.

So today, I took a new approach. Basically I followed Roxana's routine and then...I lied. "Lucy has gone night night. It's Harry's turn." Only Lucy isn't at our house on Friday's. But damn if it didn't work.

Harry said "Lucy's night night. Lucy friend." Then he rolled over and went right to sleep. Thank you Lucy. I hope you're sleeping too. Now if Charlotte would just obey.....

Thank Heaven for Little Girls

Harry is almost two and we're just considering where to go for his first haircut. Charlotte, on the other hand, is definitely her mother's daughter...lots of hair. Yesterday we celebrated her locks with her first barrette. She looked wicked cute.

Baby Bumbo and Brother

Gotta love these Bumbo sitters. I guess Bolivians don't have anything similar because the nanny about fellow over laughing when she saw Charlotte wedged, fanny first, into the little blue rubber seat (intended for babies who aren't quite sitting up on their own yet). Harry used the Bumbo for about a month before his rear end got too big.

The introduction of this blue blob has totally changed Charlotte's world. Now she can "play" with Harry and me on block mat without being nearly horizontal. Already she's eyeing his things. There's a particular pink plastic pig that Harry likes, each night we build piggy a house out of Mega blocks. I gave it to Charlotte to examine and let me tell you...that did not go over. Get used to it buddy, there's a lot more sharing where that came from.

Getting to Snow You

Six inches of snow means fun times for a toddler and a dog. Put them together and you have twice the fun, twice the wet feet (half more?) and soggy pants from lots of rear-in-the-snow action (Harry's, not mine).

Our buddy Lucy wasn't quite as keen on the whole scene -- she preferred to cheer Harry on in his face-off with the dog from behind the kitchen window. She seemed genuinely worried for his safety, peeping "Harry inside!"

I'm just sorry that Paul missed the fun. He got up at the crack of dawn to drive to Bethesda to be sworn in to government service. Our own little intelligence officer. He's so proud. Yea Paul! Now come home and play with us.