I know it’s still raw in the Northeastern US, but the weather on the island this week has turned towards more light and warmth at last. Over the weekend we celebrated the birthdays of Eve’s paternal grandparents (both 70) and were pleased to be able to share with them lovely photos taken by a professional photographer Simon knew of. For instance, this one:
Photos of the Family Foz were taken as well, but some retouching was required, viz.:
Isn’t William growing up fast?
Naturally, the highlight of this week is Eve’s first birthday. The Bean has successfully revolved around the Earth once. She won’t remember today, and she didn’t understand what all the fuss was about at dinner time, but it has been a day of treats.
At 7 am, the postman delivered a box from Aunt Joan and Cathy and a box from Coach and the Commish. When I opened the latter box, an enormous helium balloon rose out of it into the room. There were lovely clothes in Joan’s box, which should get us through to the summer when we plan to visit. Uncle Dave called, and so did the Commish, who had to keep our reminiscing short just in case she started to cry before some lawyers came to meet with her. (To paraphrase Tom Hanks: “There’s no crying in local government!”)
We had cards from Great-Uncle Mike and Netty next door, and then I busted out the gift I’ve been dying to give her: the toy piano.
I have never seen her so excited about a toy. She squealed, she smiled, she banged on it, she poked it and executed a pretty solid glissando. I sat with her for a bit and imitated anything she did to it, then went into the kitchen to make cupcakes. She played for a solid fifteen minutes. I believe that’s equivalent to about three hours in grownup time.
Steph and William joined us for dinner. They were treated to an impromptu concert by Ms. Ladyface, and then: cup cake carnage.
From a developmental standpoint I would say this pre-toddler is self-feeding appropriately.
Happy birthday, sweetheart.