Remembering Rosie

Last week we lost our sweet little Rosie. She was part of our lives for almost 14 years. She was a mellow soul, happy to curl up in any available patch of sunlight whether that sunlight was in Paris, Manhattan, Brooklyn or suburban NJ. She endured our travels, a bossy alpha cat and the expansion of our family without complaint. We'll remember her squeaky meow, her rumbling purr, her affinity for the color red (she always gravitated toward red, fuzzy toys) and how she hated to be held but loved to be stroked. The Little Grey House won't ever be quite the same without our little grey cat.

Theo!

The Little Grey House is pleased to present its newest occupant, Theo Jon. Arriving March 9th, Theo weighed an impressive 7 lbs. 2 oz. and measured 19 1/2 inches long. He's super sweet, very cuddly and oh so fond of keeping us up at night.

Theo never ceases to surprise us. And I'm starting to think, never will. After being shocked to learn we were pregnant to begin with, we settled in to what turned out to be a very different nine months from the first go round. And finally, despite everyone's predictions that the birth would be early and quick, Theo decided to take his sweet time– arriving four days later than his due date and drawing out the labor to a slow, 36-hour affair.

And I must admit I'm also surprised to see how seamlessly Theo has slipped into our lives. For nine months I couldn't begin to imagine what life with this little boy would be like. And now, I can't imagine life any other way.

Good Night, Chickadees

For a little over a month now, Esmé has been sleeping in a "big girl bed." In this case, a toddler bed that's perfectly sized so she can climb in and out with ease. Also, the potty training seems to be paying off, finally. For the last four days she's been in underwear (excepting naps and bedtime) and virtually accident free. I've been looking into preschools. She's been insisting she's a "big girl" and so over her high chair. I'm expecting eye rolls any day now.

What a long strange trip it's been. From a newborn who needed everything from me, to this emerging little person who grows more independent by the day-- we're so lucky to have a child who has always handled transition well. In fact, the only sign that Esmé was feeling a little nostalgic for the good 'ole days of sleeping in her crib was that she wanted us to resume an old bedtime ritual she had previously abandoned. Since we had been putting her to bed in her own room we've always said "good night" to the bird pictures decorating the walls: ten in all, from robins to chickadees. By the time she was talking she was joining in with us. So we were a bit saddened the night, a few months ago, when she announced that she didn't want to say "good night to the birds" anymore. And we were equally pleased (and a little touched) the night she asked to do it again. That was her first night in her big girl bed. And we've been saying "good night" again to our feathered friends ever since.

Being on the cusp of what will likely be Esmé's biggest transition has me wondering, and worrying a little, about exactly how she's going to handle everything. I've no doubt it will all, in the end, be fine. But I do hope, as with the birds, she's able to show us when she needs the reassurance of the tried and true and familiar. I'll be more than happy to oblige, even with another on the way, I'm not ready to let go of my baby just yet either.

There must have been some magic...

The first snowman of the season, built with Sofia

Esmé loves snowmen. This passion of hers dates back to last Christmas. So it should not have come as any surprise that she should take a liking to Frosty, perhaps the most famous snowman of all. I don't want to even admit how many times she watched the old corn-cob-pipe-toting, singing and dancing snowball. Enough that she has the song down pat, which is something to hear.

She's also quite adept at singing "Jingle Bells," "Rudolph," and "Let it Snow" even. When asked she'll tell you "I Saw Three Ships" is her favorite Christmas carol (an excellent choice, IMHO) and did not hesitate to ask me to sing "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" over and over and over and over again as we drove from here to there, visiting family on Christmas Eve. Suffice to say, she fully embraced the Christmas season and all it had to offer.


Christmas Eve finery


From nightly readings of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," at her request. To a tête-à-tête with a mall Santa where she asked for books. Books! When told that Christmas is also the birthday of Jesus, her reply: "I love cheese, I want some cheddar cheese, please." It's been a fun-filled month.


Esmé thoroughly enjoyed her new dollhouse Christmas morning-- so much so, it was hard to get her back on-task and opening her other presents. Plus she was equally delighted by the outfit Nana gave her and stripped on the spot so she could put it on.


Esmé was likewise a happy giver this season. Together we picked out a toy and book to donate to Toys for Tots-- both were train themed at her request.





About a month from now we welcome the year of Tiger. And just another month or so after that, our own little tiger makes his début!

Here's to a Happy 2010/Prosperous Year of the Tiger for one and all!

This Little Piggy...

For those who know her, it shouldn't come as any surprise that Esmé chose a pig as her Halloween costume. For my part, my reaction was mostly one of relief, I knew I could manage that with a little felt, glue, trial and error. It was difficult to get her to wear the nose, though she was willing to hold it up for some photo-ops. We attended the town parade the day before. And then hit the sidewalks for what proved to be a rather drizzly first trick-or-treating experience. We stuck to neighborhood homes, and Esmé was mainly perplexed by why we weren't actually going into the homes themselves. These were our friends after all. Couldn't we just have an impromptu playdate? She did, however, totally get the candy thing. That required no explanation on my part, oddly enough considering she's never really had any. She just got it. Candy? Oh yeah.












To view more Halloween photos, click here...

Autumn

Esmé gave Kristopher a kite for his birthday. We celebrated by taking it out for a spin.


It's been a particularly busy, yet fun, autumn here. Esmé has completely thrown herself into all the rituals... pumpkins, apples, changing leaves, etc. She's loving that she has to wear a coat now. "It's chilly, Mommy." Every time we point out a pumpkin, she holds up her thumb. It took me a while, but I finally figured it out: Thumbkin, of course. We talk about the colors of the leaves and, inevitably she suggests "Pink" as one of them. I don't argue.

She's communicating so well now, and this has made her such a fun companion. She has something to say about everything. As we drive, she loves to comment on the traffic lights. "Mommy, it's red now." and "The light is green, Mommy. It's green." Such a backseat driver.


Pizza making. She also helped Kristopher make ice cream. Yes, pink ice cream.

And she has become absolutely obsessed with the moon. About a month or so ago, Kristopher took her to pajama storytime at our library, and as they were walking back he pointed out the moon to her. It was love at first sight. She has a favorite book that's a sort of take on the "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" song where the star takes a little girl on a journey through space. Every time we get to the end where the star brings the little girl back home, Esmé cries. She gets so emotional. And all she can talk about is going up into the sky and visiting the stars and moon. Finally she asked me for her own star and moon-- in pink, of course -- so I obliged by making her little pillows in each shape. They've become favorites. And now we've now moved on to reading books about planets. She's starting to recognize them on sight, and the other day as I pointed to Uranus in the book, she declared, "That's My-ranus, Mommy!"

She's very excited about the prospect of a little brother. She talks about how the baby is growing and how we have to wait. We have some great books that have really helped her understand the whole process. So much so that anytime we mention leaving her with her grandparents, she thinks it means I'm going to the hospital and the baby is, to use her terms, "coming out."

So she went pumpkin picking at Pop and Sarah's recently. She was also able to check out the playhouse Pop built exclusively for her. Sarah made a strawberry cake which Esmé helped her ice, with pink icing, of course.

















And she also went apple and pumpkin picking with her cousins. She loved pulling the apples right off the tree and eating them right on the spot.


Ella + Esmé contemplating the shapes of clouds + the meaning of life

Roll out the Barrels...

It's hard to believe that another Oktoberfest has come and gone. And this year will be tough to beat. I'm amazed at how this celebration has grown, from our very first in our tiny Manhattan apartment with a modest six guests to the 40+ people we had a few weeks ago. Marc and Lori made the trip from Cambridge. Christy and Eric set aside wedding prep in order to share a sausage or two (or three or four) with us. Court, Kate and Chloe– so happy to have finally made Chloe's acquaintance, she's a doll– were there. The Pfeiffer-Edwards family braved the turnpike to come– Krista, my oldest friend, is a vegetarian so she gets bonus points. And then many of our newer neighborhood friends who already seem like old friends also represented. And of course, siblings, parents, a niece and a couple of nephews were all there to raise a glass or sippy cup. Plus everyone contributed to the feast which was much appreciated.

This year we had so many more kids in the mix which only added to the fun factor. We hired a face painter since sausages and Oom-pah music will only get you so far in terms of keeping the little ones amused. It seemed to do the trick.

And speaking of sausages, if so inclined, we could host numerous Oktoberfests throughout the year thanks to a miscommunication between us and the butcher. Where we thought we were ordering sausage by the link, they believed we were ordering by the pound. Nine links of bratwurst? Nope. Try nine pounds. With dozens of hungry festers, much of the larder was consumed, however the freezer is stocked to say the least. Until next year!