Long Island and back in 24 hours

Sorry that I don't have any pictures to post, but the camera is out of town.

Margot, Portia and I made a whirlwind trip to Long Island this weekend to log a little beach time and to hang out with Uncle Tim and soon-to-be-aunt Maggan.

I've always known that Min likes water (an an infant she giggled hysterically whenever water splashed on her face or dripped on her head). But she has no fear at all! She jumps fearlessly from the side of the pool into my arms. She lept off the raft and submerged herself, much to our surprise (of course, she was well-supervised). When we went to the beach, she wanted to run straight into the waves. It may be time for some actual swimming lessons.

Min and I made sandcastles and collected treasures (rocks and shells) at Long Beach on Saturday evening. It was the same beach that her grandpa used to play on when he was a kid, and I think I'd been there a handful of times in my own childhood (although I've driven past it hundreds of times on the way to Shelter Island).

Anatomy 101

Margot had the chance to hang out with her youngest cousin on Saturday, "Baby Quinn." (In her world, all babies have titles, such as 'Baby Quinn' or 'Baby Caci.')

We were at a baby shower, but once she learned the presents were not for her, Margot only wanted to be near Baby Quinn. She wanted to watch his mom (her Aunt Jennifer) feed him and hold him. She examined his toes and fingers and spent a lot of time trying to look closely at his perfect little face.

Min was thrilled when Jennifer asked her if she wanted to watch while Jen changed Baby Quinn's diaper. She hovered close by while Jen laid Quinn on a couch and took off his diaper. And then, in a voice tinged with surprise and wonder, Margot shouted for the room to hear:

"Baby Quinn has a tail! Mommy, Baby Quinn has a tail!"

(Baby Quinn's a boy - get it?)

The guests roared with laughter. While she didn't know why everyone was laughing so hard, Min certainly liked the attention; I could tell my the glimmer in her eye. She tried to laugh along, but I know there is some definite confusion that we'll need to address soon.

Terrible Twos, Indeed

Margot's reached a number of great milestones lately: first purposeful lie, potty training, solo decents of the stairs (while standing, not on her bum), etc.

But recently Margot achieved a whole new feat: first non-commissioned mural on her walls.

It all started when Brodie and I had Caroline and her mom and dad over for a barbeque to celebrate the end of school and the new adventures we have coming up (Caroline and her family are moving to Hawaii soon and we're headed to London). Stasia (Caroline's mom) and I were getting some food together in the kitchen to bring up to the roof deck. Brodie was in the shower, having just returned from a run. Craig (Caroline's dad) wasn't here yet. And Margot and Caroline were up in Margot's room, hurricaning.

('Hurricaning' is a throw-back to Brodie's days in Officer Candidate School (OCS). Since the officer candidates had to keep their rooms ship-shape (so to speak, even though they were on land) the officers would come in and destroy everything so that the candidates had to re-establish order before being caught with messy living quarters.) In Margot and Caroline's case, hurricaning usually means dumping all the small parts out of toys - a pain to clean up later, but generally harmless.

Stasia and I were chatting...and chatting...and chatting...and then we both realized it had been VERY quiet for about ten minutes.

Oh. No.

Stasia was first up the stairs. And then, "WHERE DID MARGOT GET MARKERS?????" Brodie's voice bellowed down the stairs. I took the stairs two at a time.

Marker on the walls. On Margot's crib. On her rug and sheets. On every piece of furniture in the room. All over her baby dolls' faces and their clothes. All over Margot (but not Caroline).

I don't think Stasia had ever seen Brodie mad before. In his defense, he didn't know the markers are washable. She started wiping the walls immediately.

I'm sorry I don't have a photo to share. But I couldn't take the time to find the camera in case the ink dried and then didn't come off.

But I would like to nominate the person(s) who developed washable markers for a Nobel prize. Or at least a national holiday. The walls wiped clean. Margot's sheets and her babies' clothes all washed clean. Her babies no longer have eye shadow and lipstick, either.

Thank God for washable Crayolas.

Getting her Sea Legs

Live from Sherwood, MD! Here, Margot is learning to balance on the boat while it softly rocks at the dock.