Christmas cookies

It used to be an annual tradition to bake and decorate these sugary delights. Now we do it at least three times during the "high" holidays and even occasionally during the lesser or lower holidays (Valentine's, Halloween, etc.). Can anybody guess why?

Princess Greta

Our daughter will not be shattering any stereotypes, it seems. At least not yet. She received two tiaras for Christmas, a Princess dress-up chest with four outfits in it, a Belinda the Ballerina doll, an Ariel Barbie and an Ariel snow globe.

And she immediately put on all the outfits over the top of her clothes, at the same time.

Ansel Adams, look out

One of the coolest gifts Greta received this year was a Fisher Price Kid-Tough Digital Camera. 1.3 megapixels, made of durable rubber and plastic. It's easy for her to hold, but at 2 1/2, not so easy to operate. She ends up carrying it around a lot, pushing the shutter button periodically, and capturing shots of the floor or her shoes.

She snapped 142 photos from Dec. 22 to Christmas night, and I've done the hard part for you -- weeding out the wheat from the chaff. And while I know I'm boastful, I think we have a real talent in our midst. At the very least, it's a nifty look at how a child sees the world.

Mr. Lincoln, the Christmas Poo

Greta was two presents into her haul when Mommy felt wet.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Lawyer's daughter

Carey shared this story with me tonight. She leaves the play room for a few minutes this afternoon and returns to find Lincoln wailing and Greta looking guilty. She asks Greta if she did anything to Lincoln. "I'm not saying," is the reply. Carey presses and asks again. "I'm not saying ANYTHING," Greta reaffirms. A few more questions and no answers, Lincoln's comforted, and Greta goes upstairs to play quietly by herself. About 15 minutes later she comes downstairs, says nothing to Carey, but leans over and whispers to Lincoln, "I'm sorry I hit you on the head, Linc."

It seems her conscience won a small victory over her fifth amendment rights.

(The photo's unrelated. Just a nice shot of the kids playing last week at Grandma Vickie's house.)

...and to all a good night

Just one shot from Rodman as we head home later this morning. Stories to share throughout the week. We're blessed with two loving families.

Let the early holidays begin...

I arrived in Syracuse via train today -- 6 hours from New York. A very civil way to travel, except for the two Hip Hop fans in the front of my car, who were sampling the latest rap songs via some sort of portable audio player, sans headphones. But all was well if I cranked mine up to drown them out.

Anyway, it was lovely seeing the kids again, just like my sister said it would be. I got big smiles from both and was Greta's first choice to ride the mall carousel with her. Carey has all the stories from the last four days. All I can offer are some photos. Will add some more from Rodman this weekend.

Going dark...

Carey and the kids are safely in Syracuse and I'm joining them via train on Thursday after a 3-day work week. Here's Greta telling me I was not coming with them this morning as they pulled out of the driveway.


We wish you and yours a very happy holiday. Probably won't post again until Christmas week, unless Carey feels inspired to do something from Syracuse.

A picture that's worth 211 words

Carey took this photo Friday when I was at work. I came home and saw it and thought, "How nice, Greta is doing her ballet dance for her brother." I imagined her finishing the dance, thrusting her arms into something close to what the Russians call the third position, and exclaiming, "Ta-Da!"

But I'm told I wasn't observant enough. Oh no, this picture means WAY more than that. See the furry little monkey on Lincoln's lap, near his right thigh above the cube? That's no ordinary primate. That's a pygmy marmoset, one of the most revered simians in the "Go, Diego, Go!" universe. He also just happens to be Greta's favorite toy for about 6 weeks running. She carries him everywhere, talks to him, attaches him to all sorts of things (his hands have tiny, choking-hazard magnets in them). My favorite -- an empty roll of masking tape with about two feet of gummy tape that serves as a rope and the cardboard circle still intact. That's a life vest for the marmoset, who is constantly in trouble and needing Diego, nee Greta, to save him.

So now when I look at it, this picture means our darling 2 1/2-year old loves her baby brother enough to share a prized possession.

What's so funny?!

Technical difficulties...

Just a post to let our half dozen daily readers know that we've been trying to upload a video since yesterday of Greta making Lincoln laugh. Rob just reported the bug to Blogger, so we'll see what happens. In the meantime, we may upload via YouTube, so check back this afternoon. It's really quite funny.

Observing...

I've had the rare treat of being home with the kids today. Of course, the day started with me staring into a toilet bowl. But in my awake hours, I got to observe Carey being Mother of the Year. What a champ. She should open her own daycare. The kids had a nutritious breakfast, lunch and dinner, spent an hour at the library listening to story hour and signing out books and are now doing some sort of craft project with glitter glue. And to top it off... under an hour of TV for Greta, by my count! Yes, indeed, I married above my station when it comes to child rearing. And I'm so very, very glad I did.

Now anybody got a Tums?

Trimming the tree

At 2 years and 8 months, Greta is much more into Christmas this year. She can ID all the major players -- from Santa to Frosty. She points out particularly gaudy displays of Christmas lights and LOVES those inflatable lawn balloons.

So trimming the tree this time around was more enjoyable for yours truly. Greta hung all but one of her dozen candy canes (the one was sucked on all afternoon, obviously), and handed ornaments to Mommy for placement on the Frasier fir. She also really enjoyed the nativity scene this year, rearranging the animals and flinging baby Jesus around the manger.

All in all, a very merry 16-days-before-Christmas.

Update...

My apologies to daily visitors, most of them related to me, who went without any Merrill memories for a few days.

Lincoln is just getting over his first major cold. Carey was Comforter in Chief these last few days. He coughed a lot and leaked fluids from his nose and eyes. Never spiked a fever, though, so we just waited it out and gave him lots of TLC. Not that I wish my children sick, but it is quite nice how cuddly they get when they're under the weather.

Anyway, he's feeling much better today -- it's like sunshine after a few days of rain. Here's a before and after shot.

Mind control

Crawling toward another week...

We're taking bets on when Lincoln will crawl. Inspired by my cousin Ryan, winner gets three iTunes gift songs. That's a $2.97 value, people. That's called comment motivation. He'll be six months old on Christmas. So pick your date and away we go. Under-bid or over-bid, it doesn't matter. Closest to the actual date wins. Crawling will be determined by a gross motor skills panel of experts. For the record, Mommy says March 1. Dad says April 12. That does not preclude y'all from picking the same day.

Why my Dad is getting out of the insurance biz

Daddy's whorls

This being an interactive medium, here is my hairline and back of my head, as requested by Dan. Fair warning, readers. The last time Dan and I sparred it involved a girlie magazine, a check to a chiropractor and shoes.

Nest

One of Greta's favorite games this autumn is called "Nest." It involves raking lots of leaves into a pile that we "fly around" (run) and land in. We then sit on her kickballs, pretending they are eggs, while we chant "Come on baby eggs, hatch, hatch!" a la Diego in Mackey the Macaroni Penguin episode. (Yes, it is hard to believe I used to spend my days drafting legal briefs for the Department of Justice!)

Yesterday Greta added a new twist to the game, insisting that "Panda" and "Pygmy Marmoset" play Nest with us. She told me they would be warm in the nest because of their fur. Smart girl, no? Greta hid her stuffed animals in the nest and then I had to find them. Easy to spot Panda. P.M. was a bit trickier. It is a surprisingly fun game, and I recommend it highly to other parents out there!

Whorls

This is Lincoln's head from behind:


And this is his hairline:


What's the deal? Conspiracy theories are welcome in the comments section.

From Mongolia, with love

Most of my friends are married, with one or two kids, a large mortgage, and the healthy glow of early middle age.

And then there's Kipp.

My college roomate is the deputy director of the Peace Corps. In Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. (Random trivia: The only world capital that contains five letter A's) He was also our house guest over the weekend -- someone Greta saw as a strange traveler from a far-away land. He came bearing gifts -- funny paper money with, yup, Gengis Khan's face all over it. And a nifty little king's crown that fits perfectly on any baby doll's head.

We had a great time getting reacquainted and sampling the local NJ cuisine. Greta showed him her favorite "dragon playground" and I took him to the movies last night -- two thumbs up for "American Gangster."

Then he copied 550 of my iTunes songs onto his flash drive, mounted his yak, and is off to Philadelphia and D.C. before returning to Mongolia via Seoul and Tokyo.

Godspeed, friend.

Thanksgiving, observed

We finally got our turkey yesterday at my sister's house. Grandma and Grandpa and Great Grandpa Merrill came down and we celebrated in traditional style -- oven-roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, string beans, butternut squash, cranberry sauce and dinner rolls. All prepared, most lovingly, by Peter and Sara, with very little help from yours truly. OK, well, I consulted with Carey as she baked the apple and pumpkin pies the night before.

Didn't get a lot of prize-worthy photos, but here are a couple. It's nice to be close enough to family to do one-day events like this without spending hours in the car.

Welcome, Kay Taylor Winthrop!

Just wanted to offer a public congratulations to Dudley and Jen, new parents to Katharine Taylor Louise Winthrop, who will be known in the world as Kay Taylor Winthrop. Why not just name her that? I dunno -- you'll have to ask her parents. :-) I suspect Dudley will offer lots of photos and stories on his blog after he gets some sleep. Kay Taylor joined the world at 4:03 p.m., weighing 6 lbs, 10 oz, and measuring 20" long. Excellent stats for a future paparazzi magnet.

Seriously, it's wonderful news and Carey and I wish you all the best. We only wish we were in D.C. to meet the little gal and watch her grow up as Lincoln's playmate. But we'll see her often, I hope.

I ended each of my -- count 'em, SIX (cousin Ryan, sister Sara, friend Aaron, cousin Karin, friend Gardner, friend Dudley)-- wedding toasts with the line, "May all your tomorrows be just like today." From one parent to another, I'd like to amend that to, "May at least one of your tomorrows be like yesterday."

P.S. Yes, Gardner, you should feel horrible about not having a blog.

Something else to be thankful for...

My best man is getting ready to join the parent ranks. Dudley e-mails this from Sibley Memorial Hospital in Washington, D.C.:

Everything's fine. I have both e-mail on phone and Internet (although admittedly a bit distracted). I'll call when there's news.

In the meantime, if there's anyone out there this day-after-a-holiday, check his blog, The Bean Patch, for updates. (Which he's writing in a very wanna-be-a-journalist fashion, by the way. We're hiring at the AP, my friend.)

Thanksgiving portrait

I'm too cheap to have a sitting at Sears or The Picture People or wherever, so about once a week Carey grabs the digital camera and -- no kidding -- snaps the shutter about 70 times in a minute. One shot is usually worth saving. On this Thanksgiving, here's the winner.

What are you thankful for?

That's the question Carey asked Greta this morning at breakfast. It's apparently a Mathews tradition to put together a list on Thanksgiving Day. (One I didn't know about until this year, by the way.)

Greta and Mommy both grabbed paper and pen. Greta would say something, Mommy would write it down, and then Greta would scribble something on her list. Here is the unedited result -- including redundancies and with no sugarcoating. Grandma Pat and Grandpa Jerry really were below birdies and Little Einsteins. But I bet if we re-did the list after seeing the Merrill family on Saturday, you'd be higher.


Grandparents
Lincoln
Jinx
Mommy
Daddy
Grandma Vickie
Grandpa Larry
Birdies
Little Einsteins
Grandma Pat
Daddy
Linc
Mommy
Grandpa Jerry
Max
Esme
Max
Aunt Colleen
Birdies
Nuts
Strollers
Going for walks
Trees
Food
Outside
Toys

The big surprise

It's funny what you remember from childhood -- both as a child and as a parent. Monday morning my father sent my sister and me an e-mail with just three words: The Big Surprise. Sara and I both knew that meant it had snowed last night in Rodman, N.Y. It's how he would always greet us in the morning when our world went from green to white overnight. In my mind's eye, I see us rushing to the window in Sara's room because it overlooked our lawn and the ball and cornfield beyond -- a vast expanse of white after that first Lake Effect storm.

We're trying to instill that same sense of wonder in Greta. She hasn't picked up the exact phrase yet, but she does love the white stuff. Here's a slideshow of her first foray into the winter wonderland of our yard.

Shhh... don't tell Jay

Greta held hands with an older man yesterday. For the record, Colin Edward Crowley, age 3, asked before taking her hand. Greta was so pleased she told Mommy (who was walking ahead of them when this shot was taken) about it afterward -- "He held my hand!"

Personally, I think it's nice that she's getting these things out of the way now, so it doesn't come as a shock when she's not allowed to date until she's 21.

We had a great day Sunday with our high school friend Ian Crowley and his family -- wife Kristine, Patrick (5), Colin and Aidan (15 mos). I think it's amazing we've stayed in touch for -- 17! -- years. It's a point of pride how close I am with a select few of my high school buddies. Here's to keeping it that way, even after the Crowleys move to Toronto in 2008.

Anyway, we braved the November chill and visited the Bronx Zoo. It's about a 40-minute drive from our house, which makes it less convenient than the National Zoo in D.C., but still well worth the trip. I guess all kids love animals, but Greta seems to have a particular fondness for them. A budding zoologist, perhaps? She pretended to be an animal rescuer like Diego, loved the Magellanic penguins, and disliked the very loud sea lions.

What we do when we forget the Bjorn

How old is she?

This has been one of those weeks where I can't believe how fast our little girl is growing. The sentences she says, the independent things she does, the games she makes up...it's hard to believe she is only 2.5 years old sometimes. Today, when The Song Lady asked if anyone wanted to sing their favorite song, she raised her hand and performed "Way Up In The Sky," complete with hand gestures! I was so proud of her for being so brave!

Pre-school open house

We broke from the evening routine last night to attend a pre-school open house at Columbia High School, the main public school for kids in South Orange and Maplewood, N.J. Some community coalition on race sponsored the event and convinced a couple dozen pre-schools/daycares to come set up tables and pitch parents on their services. We thought, at the very least, it would expose us to some of the options out there.

Turns out Greta has a few: She can just convert now, maybe with Jay's help, to Judaism. Or she can dedicate the rest of her learning life to sequencing, a key component of the Montessori philosophy. I was particularly proud of the fact that at one of the Montessori booths Greta just kept taking the little plastic pegs out of the round holes on a board and dropping them on the floor. Sequence that, people! Or, the final option, and one I found quite intriguing: Something called "brain-based learning." Imagine that. Now that some school has figured out that learning takes place in the brain, all bets are off.

Anyway, a few Treo pix to mark the occasion. Greta posing with Lincoln, Lincoln blissfully unaware and chewing off his fingers, and the parents milling about, wondering which synagogue traditionally produces the best college board scores.

Woodsman

Move over, Kevin Bacon... there's a new red and black plaid-clad sheriff in town!

Not sure who handed down the jacket, but combined with this bib, it makes Lincoln feel pretty tough.