La Rentrée

September 4, 2012

Look out, 2nd Grade!  I got ya name & numba.


Old No. 7 Brand

August 18, 2012

Happy 7th Birthday to my boy Theo from our favorite playground!

I love you, Little Guy!


Pourquoi le 4 Juillet?

July 5, 2012

One of the first things you realize about living abroad is that not everyone celebrates the same holidays as you.  With kids, you must take time to share why particular dates are important and the memories that enforce it. Whether it’s describing the Hefty-size bags of Halloween candy, why cranberries are a must for Thanksgiving or the magic of July fireworks, Theo has always listened and appreciates his heritage from “the other side of the pond”.

I had some work to do yesterday morning, but took the afternoon off to celebrate the Fourth with Theo.  Armed with two Nerf Super Soakers, our date quickly degraded into Father-Son Water War.  We attacked the other’s flank with reckless abandon as the citizens of the garden looked on in horror.  Streams of water screamed pass trees, through bushes and onto the occasional bystander.  Soaked, starved and out of ammunition, we signed an armistice around 6 p.m.

With the patties on the grill, we sat on the balcony and stared at the puddle-pocked battlefield below. Freedom has a price I told Theo.  He nodded in agreement.  We then stood, toasted our mugs of ale & grape juice and shouted “To Peace & the Fourth of July!”

Fun with guns and beer & burgers: it doesn’t get more American that.


The End of the Season

June 21, 2012

For after-school sports this year, Theo did basketball and judo.  Last week was the final practice for basketball and the last competition for judo.  He excelled at both, earning a place on next year’s team and winning a gold medal in his division.

As you’ll see in the basketball video, dribbling is optional and defense is almost nonexistent. That’s what happens when six-year-old boys play…or the Charlotte Bobcats.


The Apple Never Falls Far From the Tree

June 10, 2012

Last night I made a batch of margaritas for a friend’s birthday party. Ella curiously followed me around (via her butt-bump.  She refuses to crawl) as I gathered the ingredients.  While mixing the concoction, Ella gave me with a look of understanding and scooted her way out of the kitchen.  A few seconds later I heard clinking glass and came into the den to find this.  Noticed how she pulled out the good stuff first, but grabbed a smaller bottle that she could stash in her diaper.