More Cookies or, A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Sometimes Grumpy...

...But never for too long.

Lunch

The other day I got my camera ready to snap some photos of Jake eating messily, endearingly. What I ended up catching was a far more wonderful moment.


But first, how polite is Jake, sitting up straight with his hands folded?

After a few bites of pureed something-or-other, he got pensive.


I would even say, philosophical.




But then he heard someone at the door. Who could it be?


It's Daddy!


Bon appétit, lovely baby.

Cameo

Over the winter, Jake's great-uncle Bennett visited us twice, bearing Belgian chocolates and a cuddly hippo. But that was during a lull in blogging - I got lazy and alas, 'twas the winter of my fat content. (Thanks for the chocolates!) But without further ado, here is Bennett's cameo appearance on this here blog:


When I hold Jake, he looks like a toddler. In Bennett's arms, he's an infant all over again.

Jake Meets Witold

On Jake's first Easter Sunday, it wasn't the Easter Bunny who came to visit, but Witold instead!

It was a beautiful day, and after a traditional meal of kielbasa, eggs, butter and bread (and roast lamb later in the day), we headed out for a walk to the Jardin du Luxembourg.




After some discussion, Witold and I decided that the Polish term for grandfather, "Dziadek," does not suit him one bit. It kind of connotes old, decrepit dudes and Witold is not one of those. So it looks like Jake may call his maternal grandfather by his name, in which case he'd be following in his mommy's footsteps - I called my dad Witek (the diminutive of Witold) for quite a long time!


SCANDALOUS.

Moving on, here are two of my three favorite guys making each others' acquaintance.



Jake loves to wreak havoc in his room, taking clothing out of drawers, books off of shelves, and toppling towers at every turn. We've started nicknaming him "The Master of Disaster" and "Jakezilla." Colin keeps trying to show him how to put things back into drawers, but I don't think he'll master that one for many, many years.

His hand-eye coordination is coming along quite nicely, however, as evidenced by this series of shots.





This is what happens when you pinch Jake's cheeks one too many times. Dziadek or no dziadek, he pinches back.

The rest of the week was spent drinking fine wine, strolling through Paris, and toppling many a tower. But not the Eiffel, of course.

Oh, and in case you're wondering how "dziadek" is pronounced by us crazy, consonant-loving Poles, prosze bardzo:

http://www.forvo.com/word/dziadek/

Ready For His Close-up

In just four easy steps.








He's a natural.

A Baby, A Dog And A Cookie

Suddenly, Merlin finds Jake extremely interesting.



Not even the attentions of his favorite wine seller could make him take his eyes off that treat.



Now look at what happens when you take the cookie out of the equation.



Totally mundane and not a little bit absurd. Conclusion? Cookies play an integral role in interpersonal relations. Eat a cookie in front of a loved one today.

How Is This Night Different From All Other Nights?

(He's thinking very hard.)


Answer: It's Jake's very first Passover Seder.

On Monday we went into the Marais to shop for Passover. I don't know how to spell most of the things we bought, but suffice to say that we were able to get the sweet things we needed, the bitter things we needed, the book to explain it all, and Jake's first yarmulke, too.






Colin led the Seder in Hebrew and I read the French translations of all the blessings. Jake and Merlin lent their moral support.


It may have the been the shortest Seder ever, due to a certain someone's flagging interest. But I'm not pointing fingers.


Jake's favorite part of the evening was the search for the afikoman, the last piece of matzo. Colin hid it at the start of the meal and once we were done, I helped Jake find it among his toys.




Jake's becoming quite the adventurous eater, and now he's added matzo to his repertoire. Which is a good thing, because we have plenty left over.

We had a joyous evening, especially knowing that we had just celebrated another of Jake's 'firsts.'

Chag samaech! Happy Pesach!

Liverpool!

Three weeks ago (already?!) we flew to Liverpool to hang with the British contingent. Jake got to meet one of his great-grandmothers for the first time, and he also happens to be her first great-grandchild.


First, the flight. We weren't too worried about it because Jake is a good sport and is more likely to be curious about new things than to get upset, but he exceeded our expectations. Not a single complaint had he. (Colin behaved, too.)

At the end of the flight we got to take a photo with the pilot (I called him the Captain and addressed him in the third person, "Could we please take a photo with the Captain?" which he seemed to like very much.)



When we got to Grandma's house, it was full of Blundells, all of whom were quite excited to greet their newest addition.



After a while, Jake got a bit overwhelmed by all the attention and needed a breather, so we took a stroll along the waterfront. Here are a few family shots and landscape shots of our promenade.







By the second day of our trip, Jake had settled into visiting at Grandma's house and had a grand old time.












There was also the family reunion dinner, of course, where over twenty of us filled our bellies with roast beef and yorkshire pudding, and the occasional late-coming salmon. (The evening before was a smaller, fish and chips affair.)







Soon enough it was time to return to Paris so we got back on the plane at John Lennon Airport and journeyed back to Charles de Gaulle.


All in all, Jake was perfectly satisfied with his first international jaunt.