Here's Nico happy in what the French call, "Le Parc."



More here

We're here.

The sisters at Dominican said they would say the prayer for travelers for us.

9/12 - 9/19 - Chicago to Venice for 812$ all fees included (it's a 339$ ticket).

Direct.

I hate them.

Every so often, my son does something so astounding that I'm not sure if it actually happened. Back in May, I came across the room with a banana, and he said, "lalalablablalala-ba-na-na." He once signed a perfect "more," as opposed to the vague clapping he usually does. He's said, "woof," "ball," and a few other words. Communication is coming, but these rare glimpses are amazing, encouraging, and frustrating (because we can't replicate them).

Yesterday, he and his cousin Zoe (my littlest niece) were eating sweet snap peas. I began feeding Nico peas a few weeks ago, first just the inner peas, and then Shannon started giving him little bits of shell as well. Yesterday, I gave him half or quarter peas (depending on size), shell and all, and he crunched through them merrily. Zoe wanted peas too, and the two children sat next to each other eating them as fast as I could pull off the strings.

At one point, there was only one pea left on the table (though more to come). Nico reached out and picked it up. Zoe looked at him but didn't say anything. Nico them leaned towards her and held out the pea. Zoe looked confused, but I told her that Nico was giving it to her, so she took it, said thank you, and ate it. I rewarded them both with more peas, wondering if I had really just seen my son decide to share with his cousin.

Also, this just in - Michigan is pretty.

From late May to early July, feeding Nico went from bad to worse. He cut some back teeth. He got better at throwing. He got surly. His world closed to "jar-food," fruit, chicken nuggets, and fish-sticks. And when surly, even those could go. He'd turn his head and bury his mouth in the back of his high chair. He'd close his eyes and cry. Sometimes you could sneak in something he liked, and then he'd eat more, but he began every meal from the perspective of "not eating."

For the last week or so, though, it's been sunshine and smiles. Today he ate shredded sharp cheddar. He's been eating little ravioli (a perfect package for toddlers). Shredded sharp cheese is extra fun because you get to eat it, but you can also mush it under your hands and spread it around like fingerpaints. Edamame and sweet peas remain favorites. I'm cautiously optimistic that eating in Europe isn't going to be a disaster, and grateful that we'll spend the first few days with B & K in the Loire valley, acclimating.

Nico is becoming more vertical. His main mode of locomotion is awful (pulling himself with arms, one leg under his bottom) because it uses no core muscles, but he's standing a lot, cruising easily, and even doing a few seconds of unsupported standing. What I can't get him to do much is supported walking (where I hold arms or hips and he walks). We'll get there though. There's been a lot of breakthroughs, small but real, in receptive speech, motor skills, and so forth.

Now if only the Euro would lose 30% of its value against the dollar in the next few days. This trip is going to hurt the pocketbook, even though Dominican is subsidizing a lot of it.

There's an 18th century Venetian chronicle, one I happened to need RIGHT NOW, scanned, via Harvard Library, on google books. It's here.

Also, the Newberry has free wireless.

Also, they haven't brought me the book yet, but I think it has the 1317 text I need.

I like my day job.

I love the New Yorker. My father buys me a subscription every year for Xmas and has for about 10 years now. I read almost all of almost every issue, skipping the articles that bore me (local New York theater/opera/music/dance), devouring the film reviews and the politics, and regularly learning an immense about. The magazine is often ahead of the curve - it ran its first long piece on Obama before he was asked to do the keynote address at the Dem convention. It ran a piece on evolution in the PA courts/school system before the decision was handed down (after the decision it was in all the papers). Seymour Hersh writes for them (I hope you read his recent piece on Iran. Among other conclusions, the Bush admin. has been giving money to Baluchis in Iran. Kalid Sheikh Mohammad and Romsi Yousef were both Iranian Baluchis, to give you an idea of the issues here.

Anyway.

Next week this cover will be running, but since it's already online, the shit is hitting the fan as we speak. Here's what the editor of the New Yorker has to say about it - it's satire.

It may be satire. I'm embarrassed to have it showing up in my mailbox. I'm considering canceling my subscription.

What's going on here? Am I victim of my own double standard? I was happy enough having Bush the cowboy or idiot showing up on the covers. I think I'd be just as offended if the New Yorker ran a cover showing Clinton as a dominatrix or with a penis (or with Bill's penis) or something else as crude. The cover /is/ expressive of the current lies being perpetrated by the right against Obama (the piece is called "The Politics of Fear"), so I guess it's a great job by the artist.

But I'm embarrassed to have it showing up in my mailbox.

What do you all think?

Happy 4th of July from the Muppets!

A good (I think, but what do I know?), very clear, article on economic myths affecting our lives.

First the important bit: We've finally put an unsorted group of pictures, bad and good, from the last few months online. They include Easter, Applecon, grandpa's visit, and his first haircut.

( My favorite picture )

Nico seems on the verge of enormous breakthroughs in speech, verbal expressiveness, signing, walking, and really everything else. I expect they will each take their time in approaching the next level, but his physical steadyness and strength, coupled with his eagerness to play and learn, fills us with joy. Sorry to be so gushy!