Holidays...

Little crossed feet...

...melt my heart.

Two Loves...

She wakes up...

...like this...

...and this.

Cute...

...until you know where there are from...

...and how absolutely stale they were.

We couldn't choose just one...

And Halloween spanned several days, so why not several costumes.

Take 1...

But it seemed cruel to pack her up in this all night, so...

Take 2...

But giraffes are way too sweet and cuddly, and totally not scary, so...

Take 3 (beginning of the night)...

Take 3 (after the crickets attacked, literally)...

Clearly, this pirate is not as tough as most.  Maybe if she would have had a sword...

Loving...

...pum-kins

...flowers

...slides

...pigs

...but not cows

While we were out...

July 2007: The first steps...

And, yes, she is still walking after that fall and we did feed those cupcakes to our friends after swiping our fingers through the frosting repeatedly.  

Forgive the hiccup...

When blogging is more work than bliss it becomes hard to justify. Our trusty iBook has been overworked and under-appreciated, while at the same time being injured.  Clearly, we have not been good parents to our sweet iBook and, as a result, we bought it a new parent.  Now, everyone is happy and we're back.

The Contain-her Store...

While meandering through a retail wonderland, this is what we resorted to.

Who's afraid of bubbles?

Our little Laila.  Who would have guessed that most kids' favorite pastime would be our child's greatest fear to date?  Obviously, not me.  While visiting my second home (aka Target), I found myself wandering though the toy section, mostly because I had already covered the rest of the store.  While perusing the isles, my eyes were caught by an Amazing Bubbles bubble blower, and I thought to myself, "Laila will LOVE this."  At home, I anxiously waited for Tim to return home from work, because I didn't want him to miss out on the excitement.  Once home, we all headed downstairs- I was basically skipping.  We put Laila down on the grass and dramatically began pulling the trigger.  Here's what we got.

If this were a video clip, you would see a shaking baby- literally.

Not the strong reaction I was expecting, but a strong reaction none-the-less.  I wanted to comfort her, but let's be honest, she wasn't in danger and now we have pictures.  Totally worth it.

Little Bolivia...

Once a year our neighborhood turns into, what some may call, Little Bolivia.  The Clarendon Day's Parade (which Tim thinks of as a little slice of heaven) graced us this past weekend.  Basically, it's a parade that features one group of Caporales dancers after another, adorned in the traditional costumes from each region, dancing the streets of Clarendon- intermittently interrupted by a political segment- and then back to the dancing.  Men, women, children... and this year I could see in Tim's eyes, his dream of our family joining in one day.  I'll be honest, at times it looks quite attractive, but then I remember that I am severely uncoordinated and that they probably wouldn't even take me if I tried.  Tim and Laila, on the other hand, may just have a shot.

To keep the Bolivian theme alive, we went to Victor's Bolivian Restaurant last night.  We went (in my opinion) to:  98%- visit with Arturo and Victor Hugo, two of Tim's friends from his mission in Bolivia, and 2%- eat.  I do love that a piece of Tim's heart (a fairly large piece) is in Bolivia, and that the food brings back memories of the good old days.  That said, the food is not so good.  We have gone out for Bolivian food a few times now, and I really feel like I went in each time with an open mind.  The first time we went Tim talked it up to be pretty darn delicious, and then after the meal was compelled to admit that there was a strong possibility that it was an acquired taste and more nostalgic  for him than anything.  Last night, again with a big wide open mind, I ordered from the menu a delicious chicken entree.  As we were driving home I mentioned to Tim that the food this time was pretty good, thinking this would give him hope for future Bolivian food outings.  He told me that what I ate was actually an Argentine dish, thus shooting himself in the foot.  

I'm addicted...

...to THIS.  Almost as good as the real thing.  Thanks Cassie.

We have no idea what we are doing...

... but feel so selfish appreciating others' blogs without sharing in return.  Hopefully, starting this will (in some small way) make up for all of the appreciating that we have done.