Lucky 15

Today Margot took 15 consecutive, albeit shaky, steps, enough to carry her halfway across a room.

I suggest if you are playing Powerball anytime soon (current jackpot = $178 million), that you play this lucky number.

Say Goodnight, Gracie

Mini and I were sitting on the beach this morning at Point Lookout, NY, while Brodie and friends surfed a bit. It was a beautiful morning, and we had Portia with us too, although she was confined to the pup tent since dogs aren't allowed at the beach.

Anyway, some surfers emerged from the water and waved to Min. Blah, blah, blah, one of them also has an 18-month-old daughter, and so we chatted about that for a few minutes.

As the two men gathered their flipflops and surfboards to leave, they tried hard to get Margot to say goodbye to them. "Bye-bye...bye-bye..." they crowed, over and over. I tried to encourage her to say goodbye, both to prove that she can and to help these guys regain some dignity. "Say goodbye, Min," I told her.

And right on cue, she finally spoke up: "Goodbye, Min."

George Burns couldn't have been more proud.

Editor's note: I did a search to add a link regarding the above entry, but Wikipedia tells me that Gracie Allen never did say "Goodnight Gracie." It was before my time, and we all know that Wikipedia's accuracy is more than questionable. At any rate, if you don't know the legend, read for yourself .

My Daughter the Trash Collector, uh, I Mean "Sanitation Worker"

I am wondering if Margot's newfound walking skills will make her less of a human vacuum. See, when she cruises the floors on her hands and knees, she is forever finding small scraps of paper of strands of hair that apparently disgust her. She brings them all to me, muttering 'trash, trash.' (Only it sounds more like 'ash, ash.') I take these items from her - some are so small that I can't even see them - and deposit them in the big shiny trashcan in the kitchen, much to her delight. Then off she goes again, bringing me bits of string and whatever else gathers next to the baseboard moulding.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. In fact, before Margot was born Brodie and I used to comment, "We should have some kids so that they can do the chores!" (This was usually said when washing dishes or taking out the garbage.) So what do you know! We have a child who does chores - we should be grateful! But there is something disarming about the fact that my daughter thinks I am a poor housekeeper.

At any rate, there is a future for women sanitation workers, believe it or not.

Legos (not to be confused with Lagos)

Margot has a new interest, and no, it's not collecting gasoline from a pipeline that runs unattended throughout the country.

These green, blue, red, purple, and yellow building blocks that have transcended generations of toddlers have become Margot's new favorite toy (next to Piggy, of course, but then again, Piggy isn't really a toy, he's more of a member of the household). She stacks (sort of) and destroys (voraciously) over and over again. She empties and collects. She uses the Lego bucket as a walker, so that she can get from the living room to the kitchen.

(For those of you who are keeping track, we have reports of up to seven consecutive steps at a time, but these are unconfirmed reports. I can say that I have seen with my own eyes up to five steps at a time, but the majority of her motion is still crawling or cruising).

Here's to Legos!

Gratuitous Margot pix

Wow, the summer is just flying by and I haven't been writing. So to get you all caught up, here is what Margot has been doing so far...

Surfing on Long Island:


Hanging at the beach:


Learning to walk: