Hide the wine bottles and lock up the puppies...

I don't think we're ready for this. The midget just figured out crawling. Isn't there supposed to be a little time where he is satisfied with mischief on all fours before he gets the urge to be even taller and more mobile?

French Kisses

One of the perks of having a baby is grooming him to be your very own miniature, one person fan club. Because as a parent you are, by default, the coolest person they know for at least a few months.

I am taking full advantage of this adoration as long as I possibly can, and plan on enjoying it for a couple more days until Wesley realizes I'm really, truly not giving him any cookies and he hates me and I'm only here to tell him no and make his life miserable.

So until then, I'm teaching him how to give me kisses. This video is from our last weekend in Paris. What better place for kisses than Paris?

Boy Genius

Here are the choices:
A) I have the smartest baby in the world.
B) A good mama would spend her time Lysoling household surfaces instead of laughing at her baby.
C) Wesley is hungry, starved, salivating for attention
D) Eh, what are a few dog germs, right?

Paris, part 792

Our time in the Netherlands is running out. We're not moving yet, not for about 8 months, but it's starting to seem like a reality. Ben is thinking about jobs, we're browsing real estate online, and we're starting to realize we have a limited number of trips we can take before we go. We're planning one to Tunisia at the end of April and a short trip to Ireland sometime this summer, but the thought that keeps popping into my head is, "Paris! We're going to have to leave Paris behind when we move back to the U.S.! How many times can we go before then???"

Ben, superman that he is, made some plans. And then last weekend emailed me a link to an apartment rental and asked if I would care to join him this weekend.

Would I? Mais oui!

So here we are.

In our apartment in Paris, and very happy about it.


We have done nothing exciting, just shopping and walking and our usual breakfast at Sacre Coeur.



We invited Wes to join us for a picnic lunch by the Seine, too.

We also had an uninvited guest whom we dubbed Jacques Cousteau.

He sat very patiently and watched us eat, and then when we finished our food and crushed his dreams, he wandered off. We're pretty sure he wasn't a stray, just a friendly Parisian dog whose owners may or may not have known he was begging for lunch from tourists.

Wes has been quietly and politely begging, too. Scoping out our café and gazing wistfully at les croissants. And he has also been a nearly ideal traveling companion this weekend, so we decided to reward him. Our favorite bakery has mini-croissants...

Wesley want a croissant?

Oui!

So délicieux!

Wesley had a bonding moment with his Da, sharing his newfound adoration of croissants.

What can we say? The bébé has good taste!