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/
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