Previously on The Little Grey House...

So. Theo. He's walking, of course. Has been since 17 months. And pretty much as we expected, he's gone from toddling to tight-rope walking in no time. That learning curve was short indeed. He doesn't just run, he sprints. He doesn't just climb, he scales. He's able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. You get the picture. No sooner am I at the counter busying myself with sharp objects do I hear the drag and scrape of a chair being pushed across the kitchen floor. In seconds flat he's at my side assuming (without asking, of course) the role of sous chef. Suffice to say, he gets into everything.

I'm often asked, is there a difference between raising boys and girls? I don't know. There is a difference between Esmé and Theo. That I do know.

He loves all things electronic. From operating the remote control (something Esmé still can't do) to removing the batteries from it. We finally had to password-protect our computer because I was tired of finding my files renamed. He turns on our music system and then turns it off again. On. And off. On. Off. I love him. He is my son. But it is down-right irritating.

He loves tools. And plays with his toy versions often. One day when K was fixing something and using his screw gun, Theo ran off to retrieve his toy drill. I was impressed he made the connection-- especially since his is bright red and yellow plastic.

By this time I was maintaing a steadily growing list of Esmé's burgeoning vocabulary (see right, I'm too sentimental to even take it down). Theo is communicating and has made some great progress as of late, but to keep a record of his "words" would be futile. For the most part he's able to mimic intonations really well. "Uh-huh" "Mmm-mmm" "Nnnnn"-- that's the extent of it. And it's hard to get him to open his mouth while speaking. He'd make a really good ventriloquist. Yet there are three words he's nailed: Mom, Dad, and Esmé. Yes, he says "Mom," not "Mama" or "Mommy," and he delivers this word with force, gusto and always a slight whiff of impatience. "Mom!" he cries and I swear he's suddenly turned fourteen.

He's a love though. Cuddly when he's willing to hold still for more than a nano-second. And lots of fun. He loves music and has a whole repertoire of songs he can sing. Of course the lyrics are stripped down to their purest sounds, but you can still distinguish "Baa-Baa Black Sheep" from "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" from "The ABC Song" and that's something.



So. Esmé. She's such a little person now. So full of ideas and opinions and always, heart. Her writing skills are really coming along. I noticed yesterday that she automatically pinches the crayon between her thumb and pointer, no more fisting. She's showing early signs of reading now too, her interest in it waxes and wanes, and I do want to follow her lead at this stage in the game and not force things. But she's super interested in how words are spelled and being able to spell them herself. And we're rhyming all the time-- it's rap-tastic, yo.

Lately too she's been really into adding quantities. Apropos of nothing she'll ask, "what does 4 and 4 make?" or " 5 and 2?" or "3 and 7?" etc. etc. Then she uses her fingers to arrive at the solution. I'm most amazed that the concept of addition just sort of came to her naturally. It's not anything we've been working on. And when I asked if they were doing addition at school, she said no. Oh please, please, please, God of Math, smile upon my daughter. You owe me. Big time.

Esmé asked for a nutcracker for Christmas. She loves the ballet, we've been streaming the Pacific Northwest Ballet Co.'s production (costumes by Maurice Sendak, neat!) via Netflix, and we took her to a live production as well. And thanks to a certain Christmas elf with certain connections to German woodstuffs we were able to make it happen for her. Though the ballet was the primary motivation behind her selection, she was just as likely to respond to inquiring adults who greeted her gift choice with a confused look with "I like nuts."

We've been touring kindergartens and are in the process of making the big decision between the school we're zoned for and another school in the district we can opt into. I can't believe we're here already. While strolling the corridors of what may be her future alma mater, I found myself getting teary. She's my pal, my companion. She's been by my side almost every single day for the past four and a half years-- and even more than that if we count the part where she was physically attached to me. And though she goes to preschool now, it's not every day nor all day long. I'm going to miss her terribly. Though I am very excited for this next chapter. I am.

The other day Theo managed to get himself and me locked in Esmé's room. Poor Esmé was all alone on the other side of the door. The gate that barricades the stairs was closed, so I had to coach her to push a very heavy chair from our bedroom to the den so that she could climb on it and retrieve the telephone. Struggling to bump this chair over rugs and around corners, she managed beautifully only to find herself face to face with her next challenge, a crash course in how to operate the phone itself. Esmé really kept her cool and followed my directions diligently. And with some trial and error we managed to call Daddy who offered what little help he could from a skyscraper in Manhattan. At the very least he tried to call our neighbors who, as it turned out, were all MIA. Thankfully it was a day Grandma was slated to come. Once she did arrive, Grandma passed a few tools under the door that unfortunately didn't improve our situation any. Meanwhile Theo, when he wasn't swinging from Esmé's bunk bed or wrapping the lamp cord around his neck, set himself to pushing me out of the way and wrenching the tools from my hand. Such a man.

I now know which child I would chose to be deserted on an island with.

And the door? Grandma kicked it in.

Homework, p 2

So the playroom project began back in April. With sledgehammer in hand, K took out the ceiling and some of the walls. Removing the ceiling was his idea, and it was a brilliant one. By taking it out, we now had an expansive space with lovely exposed rafters and a pleasant open feel. It also enabled us (or more accurately, Kristopher) to add insulation where it had previously been lacking. More to the point, Esme's room could finally be insulated! We had suspected all along that the wall she shared with the garage's upper level was sorely under-insulated. What we did not know was that it wasn't insulated at all! Brr. Well we (and by we, I mean Kris), fixed that. After the insulation came the sheetrock which at times required some death-defying balancing acts on ladders with nail gun in hand all while hoisting incredibly heavy panels of sheetrock into place. Again, him not me. I provided meals, moral support, photo documentation and child care. In other words, my weekends started to look an awful lot like my weekdays.

















Spackling and painting followed. Kristopher rented a paint sprayer which did in the end do the job but not without its share of malfunction, frustration and mess. Everything was coated, including Kristopher. More painting followed. Including covering one wall with "chalkboard" paint. This is one of my favorite features of the room. One entire wall dedicated to chalking to your heart's delight. Fun!

The biggest investment, outside of time and energy, was the doors. We knew in order for the room to really work we had to do away with the overhead door. What we wanted were wooden swing-out doors. A little research revealed that these are called "carriage house" doors. Such a noble nomenclature also justifies a very expensive price tag. To be fair, they are custom made. And they are solid wood. We found the best deal we could and saved a lot just by virtue of the fact that K installed them himself. He never ceases to amaze me. And they are beautiful and have contributed significantly to the curb appeal of our house, too.

After debating various options for lighting, we decided to go with Japanese lanterns of various sizes hung at various heights. For the floor we went with interlocking foam tiles. Very soft and kid-proof. We can easily take them up. And we could customize them to exactly the floorspace we wanted to cover thus enabling us to keep the walkway from the exterior door to the kitchen clear. This is where the stroller can be rolled in and kept safe from the elements. This is where muddy shoes can be left or snowy boots defrosted. K hung some hooks for coats (at both kid and grown-up level). We put up a shoe rack and allocated a basket for mittens and hats and scarves, oh my. For as much as the kids are enjoying the playroom, I'm enjoying this small feature. Just to have a place, a mud room of sorts, to manage all that stuff and to not have the space be in our living room is, in a word, wonderful.










The final feature is a long clothes line for displaying art. This thrills Esmé to no end. And we love it too. Her colorful oeuvres brighten up an otherwise dull wall. Plus there's plenty of space for Theo's contributions once he's ready.

As time-consumming and difficult as it was for us to make this happen we knew all along that it would be worth it, and it was totally worth it. The kids are getting so much out of it, and so are we. We'll know the extent to which we appreciate it come winter when we can't use it because it isn't heated. That too may be something we'll look into down the road. For now, this is enough.

Homework, part 1

A quiet TLGH often indicates quite the opposite for the non-virtual TLGH. In other words, it was a busy, busy summer. And most of the credit goes to our tiny attached garage which we are no longer permitted to refer to as a "garage." It is now a playroom extraordinaire. This has been among our long-term plans for the house and was, in our minds at least, bundled into some of the plans for our outdoor space which we also accomplished over the course of the summer.

The Little Grey House has an even littler backyard. To maximize the space we do have we wanted to create a large patio space behind the garage, I mean, playroom. As some of the space belongs to our lovely neighbors the ideal scenario was to redo the entire space with pavers. Since we pulled our oil tank the previous fall, our driveway had been reduced to a pebbly mess, so the grand plan was to use pavers on the driveway, along the walkway/alleyway leading to the back, in the back and along the walkway leading to the girls' backyard. They were completely on board (we hit the lottery in the neighbor department) and the end result was a space that was infinitely more useful for us both. What was once an uneven surface of busted up macadam is now a surprisingly expansive stretch where the kids can ride bikes, roller skate and run amuck en route to the back yard. K installed a tall fence between the driveway and the back ensuring everyone plays where they should while completing the compound effect.

Here are the best before shots I could muster up:
















And after:























We even installed a pool in the alleyway between our houses!



Now this is living.

The paver job was handled by professionals. The garage transformation was done, literally, in house. In the next episode of TLGH see how one home-improvement project can hijack an entire summer.

Stand & Deliver

I'm falling a bit behind here, so before he heads off to college, I figured it was high time I did an update of Theo's progress. And he is progressing. At his 12 month appointment the doctor told me that if Theo was not standing as of 15 months then we ought to consider physical therapy. Three days before said appointment Theo hoisted himself up. And he has barely sat down since. He's standing. Coasting. And getting into all sorts of new trouble. His favorite activity? Clearing tables. And our new deadline? Walking well by 18 months... or else. I'm sure he'll wait to the last minute on this one as well. I believe I've got a little procrastinator on my hands.

Theo is progressing, slowly, but surely with his vocab too. In addition to Mama and Dada, he says "bread." Something that approximates banana and blueberry. And "Obama" which I think is his take on Esmé. If I'm right then that would be very appropriate as she, despite Theo's burgeoning mobility, is still very much the Commander in Chief of TLGH.

Ballerina Bunny

Esmé danced in her first ever recital. She thoroughly enjoyed the experience without even a touch of stage fright. Of course a frothy ballerina costume provided the perfect incentive. The number was called "Ballerina Bunny," and the song has been lodged in our heads ever since.

Going Back to New Orleans

It was the scene of our honeymoon, almost 13 years ago, and thanks to the AIA, we made it back to New Orleans. Though K had to spend the better part of our visit at the conference, having Grandma and Grandpa along made for an
especially fun return to
the Big Easy.

Another unexpected plus was our room. We had arranged for a suite so that while Esmé and Theo slept we would have some place to escape to and maybe, just maybe, read or watch a little TV. Instead what we got was something on the scale of palatial. Kitchen. Living room. Private patio. A conference table with seating for 12. The patio alone enhanced our stay in countless ways. K didn't make it home most nights until after 7 pm.
He'd bring in jambalaya, or etouffée or some other local delicacy and we'd open a bottle of wine and pass the evening al fresco. Laissez les bonnes temps roulez!

Meanwhile we passed our days mainly soaking in the French Quarter. With music on every corner, Esmé was entranced. She danced. She learned how to work a slide trombone. She shook that tambourine. We did make it out of the Quarter for a steamboat ride down the Mississippi on the Natchez where we enjoyed a surprisingly yummy lunch of fried catfish (it was a Friday), mac 'n cheese, collards, beans, cornbread and bread pudding.


Having G + G along meant we could treat ourselves to a night out. We chose Antoine's, one of the Quarter's oldest restaurants and one that we didn't get to on our first visit. It was quite a trip. The decor was in line with a country club circa 1960. Before excusing myself to the ladies room I predicted I'd find a faux trellis motif and kelly green carpeting. And you know what? Score! The menu was also of another era and I had to order the Oysters Rockefeller which was originated by Antoine's kitchen. And though we were tempted, we did not get the baked Alaska which was another signature dish served tableside with a lot of pomp and circumstance. They don't call it dessert here until they've set it on fire, that's for sure. Other dessert choices, peach melba and cherries jubilee. Truly the restaurant that time forgot.












All and all the food was spectacular. You just don't get food like that anywhere else. We breakfasted at Brennans and brunched at Commander's Palace (really our best meal, I think). At CP they had a strolling jazz trio that played Bye Bye Blackbird at Grandpa's request and My Blue Heaven at K's. Esmé enjoyed the culinary experience and even declared Grandma's turtle soup her favorite!

The travel was tough with two flights each way and pre-4 am wake ups and despite it all the kids did great. I am so impressed with what they're able to handle. As the last few posts indicate, we've been on the go a lot lately and they've taken it all in stride. They truly encompass that NOLA savoir-faire: let the good times roll!

April in Tampa

April is the cruelest month everywhere but Florida where there's plenty of sunshine, warm, but not too warm temperatures and flowers, flowers and more flowers. We were excited to see Nana and her new (at least to us, she moved last June) apartment, and we were anxious to see how the sunshine state does Easter.

We opted for a 6 am flight which meant waking our children at the ungodly hour of 4:30 am. And now with it all behind us, I'd do it exactly the same way again. We went from our car to the shuttle, through security and onto the plane... the only way to go when traveling with wee ones. The flight was on time and by 9 am we were touching down in Tampa. Perfect.

We were able to check in early which was a double blessing as a quick glance out our hotel window revealed an egg hunt underway. K rushed Esmé down to the scene where she was able to snag the last egg (pink, thank God) and meet the Easter Bunny himself. Fun.

Then it was on to Nana's. Her apartment building is stunning. The Mirasol was built in the 1920s as a hotel and retains much of its original charm and mystique. There's a gorgeous tiled pool set against a marina. The views are breathtaking.

Per Esmé's request, Nana cooked up her signature spaghetti and meatballs. Even Theo couldn't get enough of it.

That night K was ever so kind to give me the night off, meaning he put the kids to bed in our one-room hotel room, volunteering to sit in the dark as they drifted off to sleep freeing me to go down to the waterfront for a glass of wine and sunset. It was a genuine treat, though would have been even better to share it with him.

The next day was Easter morning where we discovered the EB even does hotel rooms. After a quick egg hunt (Look Mommy, there's an egg in the bathtub!), we visited our favorite breakfast buffet and then swam in the pool. We had 2:30 reservations at Oystercatchers where Nana and the Scarborough family joined us for a delicious and neverending Easter brunch with beautiful views of the water. Esmé loved spending time with Carly. And the Easter Bunny dropped by once again.

The next day we headed to St. Pete to our favorite stretch of Gulf beach–- The Don Cesar Hotel.




It was a fun day, lunch at the hotel and then an afternoon on the beach that unfortunately had a sour ending. During a long, trafficky ride back to Tampa complete with one of those crazy Florida rainstorms I started to experience an ever-mounting sensation of nausea. Suffice to say we made it back to the hotel just in time, and the illness didn't leave me until 3 am the next morning. I was pretty convinced, from experience, that it was food poisoning. However we just went through the same ordeal with Esmé this past weekend so now I'm inclined to believe that it's a bug. If so, then Esmé and I have each experienced three different stomach bugs within the past month. Theo has had two (fingers crossed, fingers crossed), and though K has managed to dodge these small plagues, an India trip did leave him with a case of "New Delhi belly" so needless to say the plumbing at TLGH has been pushed to the extreme.

Our last day was spent at the hotel pool. This afforded me an opportunity to catch up on some rest while E + T could still frolic with K and Nana. And then before we knew it, it was 4 am and we were once again rousing our brood for the return flight home. In both directions K was upgraded to business class (one of the benefits of frequent travel). We refused it for the flight down, and instead they offered us the first row in coach which was perfect. We had a bit of extra leg room and were positioned right by the bathroom making the flight that much more comfortable for our troop. On the return flight we didn't have time to negotiate the arrangements, so instead K sent me up to business class with Theo. Though I appreciated the cozier seat and the opportunity to eat a hot (though lackluster) breakfast after having eaten very little recently, I would have preferred to have stayed together. I think the gentleman next to us would have also preferred it that way as well. Theo managed to knock over his can of diet coke soaking both him and his seat. Oops.