Princesses

You already know Greta is enamored of them, but this weekend demonstrated that anyone who enters the house gets sucked into the dress-up vortex.

Reunion

Greta's soulmate Jay Leonard Humphreys visited us this weekend, the first time the birthday twins have seen each other outside D.C. since we pulled up stakes from Washington in August. It only took them about 30 minutes to get comfortable and they've been cooperatively playing ever since. They helped bake my birthday cake on Saturday and braved the cold together during a brisk walk to the playground (and a local bakery/coffee shop) today. The girls are now breaking out a Diego card game. Jay will have to choose his allegiance -- the New England Patriots or the girl with the pigtails.

Momwear

More than four months into this lifestyle change for Carey and a trend has definitely emerged. Layering. A t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. She bought half a dozen long-sleeve cotton shirts that she accents with a tee, often color-coded to her mood. Mellow yellow. Excited red. That kind of thing. Here are a couple photos of my lovely wife modeling what I've taken to calling "momwear." She says the style makes sense for 3 reasons: 1) If Lincoln spits up on her in public, she can just strip a layer; 2) Our 70-year-old house is drafty so it keeps her warm; and 3) It keeps her dry skin covered during these arid winter months.

Anyway, the trend seems to be spreading. We noticed Melissa Haley rocking a two-tone outfit when she took her newborn daughter Sylvia out for a day in Boston. And this morning I decided to see what all the fuss was about. Now I'm going to invite Life is good to sponsor the family.

Art show

As the days get colder, the kids spend more time inside and for Greta that means lots of games and art. We're quite impressed by her recent work and know that her artist grandfather will be, too. She named the compositions herself.

Furry friend

We waited two years and eight months for these shots. Like a paparazzo, I was staked out in the corner of Greta's room every night, hidden under blankets with just my telephoto lens peering out. We took a chance with the flash and managed to avoid waking anybody up.

 

No snow

Local meteorologists predicted 6-12" of the white stuff Sunday night, forecasting a cataclysmic commute and sparking the inevitable stampede to the supermarket.

So what happened? A few flakes fell between 2-3 a.m., but then it warmed up and the rain washed it all away.

Naturally, Carey told Greta Sunday night at bedtime that the morning was likely to provide the "big surprise." Fast forward to morning: Greta rushes to the baby gate immediately after waking up and shouts, "Mommy, did it snow?" "No, honey, it turned to rain."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!! (Greta collapses in a heap, crocodile tears pouring out her eyes.)  

But here's why my wife continues to earn the approbation Greatest Mom Ever. She buys a bag of 100 cotton swabs, cuts up some pipe cleaners, breaks out the glitter glue, and voila!, instant Snowman.

Cousins

Just another photo from Sunday, as Max checked out Lincoln's excer-saucer. I got there a little late for the photo, but it's obvious that Max had just passed on some sort of secret.

Dress up

We spent a lazy Sunday morning/afternoon with my sister and her brood. Greta and Esme, just a few months apart in age, are now old enough for cooperative play. And what do 2 1/2 year olds play? Dress up, of course! Esme fetched a rainbow ribbon tutu, scored as a party favor, and after 10 minutes of dancing around in it, actually shared it with Greta. Tugged it off her legs and dropped it at Greta's feet. She then went upstairs to grab a dress, which she demanded Uncle Rob pull over her existing clothes.

Well, a dress trumps a tutu, so Greta needed a dress, too. She got to pick it out of Esme's drawer and so she chose this slinky number. Sorta Jane Fonda-ish, I think.

Style maven

As Fashion Rio wraps up and New York Fashion Week looms in February (don't you just love my new job?), it seems only fitting that Greta model two coats, both gifts of her stylish Aunt Kathy. She gets compliments on them all the time at the coffee shops and playgrounds of South Orange and we like the fact that she's not sporting the same Old Navy coat all the other kids are wearing. So thanks, AK!

Snip! Snip!

Oh how Daddy waited for this day! The end of barrettes! Bye-bye bangs!

Here's what Greta's hair looked like on Thursday morning.

Our brave little girl climbed directly into the Barbie Jeep, requested the Dora DVD and chattered throughout the cut. They took about 3 inches off the back, but didn't touch the top or bangs. I'm told it helps to eliminate dead ends and promote "healthier" hair.

This is the final product. I'm biased, but she'd be beautiful even bald.

Zoo in January

Gotta love 60 degree temps on Jan. 9! Al Gore deserves every bit of that Nobel Peace Prize. 

Here's Greta at the nest playground, which has taken on new fascination since our last visit. And here's Lincoln enjoying the Bjorn view in his very French ensemble.

Waiting for Dixville Notch

My friend Gardner, who doesn't have a blog, admitted last week that he and his wife Allison got a babysitter so they could go to a bar and watch the Iowa Caucus returns. While the confession prompted a little nostalgia on my part for D.C., here's how politics works these days in our household. True story.

Fade up on Carey at the breakfast table, reading the front page, clenching her jaw.

"This is crazy. It's the media that makes it a story. 'Hillary Clinton has no chance to be president if she doesn't win New Hampshire.' Who says? She could win 'em all on Super Tuesday."

"Mommy, what's a president?"

"Well... in this country, we have leaders. People who make decisions about stuff and how we work with the rest of the world. We call that person a president. We don't have a king like the mermaids."

"I want another bite."

Greta grabs three-inch French Toast stick and shoves entire syrupy mess into her mouth.

Nesting, continued

We're done pretending to live in a nest. It's time to observe the real thing. So we hung up the bird house Greta got from Grandpa Larry and Grandma Vickie. No evidence of use so far, but I expect I'll be cleaning the crap off the patio quite soon.

Nesting

Devoted readers (that really means all of you) will recall the nesting game that Greta and Mommy played this autumn in the leaves. Well, it's now too chilly outside and the leaves are gone, but the game endures. This is our bed most every morning after breakfast.

That's every pillow we own, stacked and shaped to form a nest. Greta sits in it and narrates a story about birds. She's the Baby Bird most of the time, requiring various things from Mommy and Daddy Bird. Fly here, fly there, deliver that flashlight to the nest, protect Baby Bird from eagles.

Wednesday morning I added a new wrinkle, asking Baby Bird if she was hungry. She said she was and I asked her what birds eat. Worms!

So this is Daddy Bird, playing Mommy Bird, feeding Baby Bird a worm that tastes like string cheese.

Not to be outdone, Greta added a storyline of her own. Carey bought me this oddly shaped alarm clock for Christmas.

It's like a metallic Weeble Wobble. Conveniently shaped like an egg.

So now my alarm clock is buried in the middle of the nest so Greta can play Mommy Bird and chant, "Hatch, Baby Bird, hatch!"

Hungry man

Lincoln savored his first flavored solid food on Christmas day, and clearly liked it. See you later, bland rice cereal, this guy wants the good stuff!

Happy New Year!

I worked a day shift on Monday and was home by 6. Carey took the kids to the South Orange/Maplewood First Night celebration at the local high school. Face painting, necklace making, a circus (think jugglers and magicians, not animals) and fireworks at 6:30. Thanks to 40+ degree temps, we stood outside on the community green and watched the 15-minute show. Topped it off with pizza and the household was asleep by 10:30.

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