Just Growing

I am sad, at times, that we did not name Aodh 'Jonty', as in the BBC voice Jonty Bloom, but luckily he can pull off the rakish angle in hats. I am also say that Jonty's name is not, as one would assume if one were from Montana, Jaunty.

Just after a nap outside the library. Waiting for Noah to play Need for Madness on the computer in there. Ho-hum. The rain sheeting down on the windows makes it exciting.

Hanging with the babes. Aodh is the one with the outy. Wait. Which one's the doll?

On Rocket

Octavia is wearing her new school pullover in this photo. As you can see, it says "On Rocket School" which to the rest of us looks like An Droichead but sounds a bit like On Drocked (if only I had fancy linguistic symbols here!). Octavia started going to the playgroup a couple weeks back with her friend Alex. Other friends are there, too--Lorcan and Seona. And let us not forget our new friend in the class, Mohammed Ali. For real. The cutest 3-year old I can imagine and not a boxer that I know of.

So far, O has learned to say a few things in Irish: blue, red, yellow, goodbye and who knows what else since I don't speak it. She seems to be changing her original opinion--"I'm not sure about that Spanish." Very clever of them to lure her in with colour words as colours have always been her favourite part of life.

Geronimo!

The inevitable has happened. Whilst I was filling in my Precise Periods of Presence in the United States of America (yes, for my entire 35 years on earth), Baby Aodh leapt from his bouncy chair. The chair made more cozy by (STOP READING NADJA!) a sheep skin, which makes fastening the safety belt fiddly. Since the Big Mon was asleep in his hand-me-down pink-pink sleepbag, I let my guard down. I heard him stirring but by the time I turned around he was on his knees, arms crossed afore him, executing a roll even Uncle Mikey could be proud of.

Not much crying ensued as I don't think he was much injured. A bit surprised, yea, even shocked since he hadn't quite awoken and thought out this exploit. I felt a twinge of guilt. And some annoyance at the bureaucracy that requires me to forego thinking about the baby for whom I seek a passport to rack my brains about which day in March 1996 I arrived back in Houston from Managua. The bureaucracy that didn't bother to require its minions to stamp my passport on arrival those many times.

Who's There?

The week before last, the knock knock jokes were flying and dominoes were bending all over 58 Knock Eden Park. The source of fun and hilarity? Grandpa Jim and Grandma Amy. Following closely behind Big Mike and Laurie might have been a challenge...tired children, the return to school after Easter, the possibility of the good weather bubble collapsing. However, the visit went off with out a hitch, if you discount Octavia's first visit to the slide in her rain gear with Grandpa Jim.

Tourism was on the back burner although Scott and I did take Jim and Amy up the latest attraction in Belfast, Victoria Square Shopping Centre, to see the 360 degree view. From the grown-up point-of-view, the hour or so in the evening when (most) of the children were in bed provided lovely conversation, relaxation and cups of tea. Jim might have gone through 2 whole tea bags during the visit! And those of you who know him well know that that is pure luxury. Or about 17 cups of tea.

Boo Who Who just about sums up the tenor of the house these past few days without the nannies.

Knock Knock

On the way to St. George's Market.

Mr. Aodh, Grandma and Grandpa in the Victoria Square outlook.

Aodh and Grandma love shopping for tea and bikkies...

and taking an afternoon nap.