birthday boy

ZERO, ONE, TWO!

as far as stat's go:  he's now 28 pounds and 34 inches, puts him about in the middle of all other two year olds for height and weight.  If you do the ol', double his height at two thing to predict is adult height, then that means he'll top out at 5'8.

He's got the temperament of a stereotypical two year old: from 0 to royally ticked off in just under 2 seconds. He must do everything himself, except for when he doesn't want to. He knows how to look sheepish when he's supposed to and how to laugh on cue at big brother's antics.  Playdoh, paint, and cars are his favorite pastimes.  Blues Clues and Diego are his favorite videos.

He never stops talking, does a running commentary of his daily activities.  Last week when I went in to get him after his nap, he stopped fussing the instant I walked in the door, put this great big smile on his face and said to me, "I crying mama".   Really kid, I didn't know.  Something tells me he's already figured out how to work the system.


He's a sweet boy, but definitely mischievous.  Fortunately, big brother is a rule follower, so hopefully this time next year, when B finds C and tells him he thinks it would be fun to put all the LEGOS down the toilet, C will have the presence of mind to tell him to think again.  Here's hoping!

Brussels

I call this series: Baby in Brussels.

It was going to be "boys in Brussels", but big brother got a better offer, so B got some simulated only-child time.  The buildings in the background are Brussel's Grand Place, which really might be the most impressive square we've seen in Europe, to date.  For a better picture and some brief history of the square go here or here.    It's a large enough square that B got to get out of the stroller and tromp around while D and I took turns chasing him and reading about the square's history.

this one was back in the car  and he's holding a pilfered Mango Ice cream cone -- which was mama's, but he had to hold it so that I could carry him down the stairs into the parking garage and I never got it back.  (after I had already bought him and he had already eaten a gooey, sticky belgian waffle, btw)

including this pic of the famous Manneken Pis, b/c I promise in the not too distant future it'll be my baby performing a similar action all over the squares and parks of Europe.  Manneken Pis gets a new costume every once in a while.  This weekend he was a Maltese Knight.  Why?  I'm not sure. If you're interested, here's his wardrobe schedule.

ETA:  We found out by skimming the news headlines this AM, that we missed the naked bike ride  that took place in Brussels yesterday. (If you google world naked bike ride, you'll get a --ahem-- colorful link with pics of  actual rides that explains the activism behind such a ride).  Another cultural difference, indeed.   However, it was mighty chilly and rainy yesterday.  Maybe the ride was rescheduled.  Will have to check on that.

Resistance is Futile

While I imagine the world cup is barely a blip on anyone's radar 'cross the sea.  Here, it defines everyday life. Since we're so close to the Netherlands, not only do we witness German World Cup celebrations, but Dutch ones as well, especially since the Orangemen are tearing it up: undefeated  and currently leading their group. This weekend marks the end of the preliminary rounds with both Netherlands and Germany poised to move on to the elimination round. (FWIW --USA will likely move on too, assuming they hold it together against Algiers after a rigged call earlier this week).

Anyway, on Thursday  I picked up C from Kindergarten and found him playing Goalie on the Fussball field. Those German kids know what's up. They know it makes sense to put the kid in the net who is nearly taller than the kid-sized goal. Besides which, having not grown up breathing Fussball, Colin doesn't understand the intricacies of the game as much as his playground compatriots (Soccer is serious business, even at 5) but he does understand not to let the ball past him and that when he's in the goal, he's allowed to use his hands. Then, on Friday I arrived to find all the teachers dressed up in patriotic soccer garb and the kids marching, singing, and  chanting in the gym, waving homemade German flags, with faces painted with German colors. Coincidentally, on Friday B was dressed in red and white striped shirt with navy blue pants, and even though the USA really isn't a factor on the world soccer scene, I can only imagine the local population assumes we are as Soccer crazed as they are and I wonder if they think I dressed Brandt as a flag in order to represent. Hmmmmm?

Mom's Morning Out

D recently spent two weeks in Italy.  I figure, if he gets two weeks of sunshine, I at least get a morning out. So, I hired a sitter and a friend and I set off to Tongeren, Belgium.  Tongeren is the site of the oldest Roman ruins in Belgium, but its other claim to fame is that each Sunday its streets  fill with Antique vendors. (If you're keeping track, Maastricht is the site of the oldest Roman ruins in the Netherlands and Trier the site of the oldest Roman ruins in Germany.  IOW, the Roman empire was in full swing in these parts) I had been to Tongeren twice before, once when we were still so new here we didn't know which end was up and the second time with the munchkins in tow.  On both occasions the weather was less than desirable and I remember coming home feeling like it just wasn't worth it.


This trip, however, was great fun.   Not only did I make a purchase (an old sled I'm envisioning stacking with packages come Christmas time), but we quite unexpectedly happened upon Tongeren's Corpus Christi parade.  Corpus Christi is a mostly Catholic holiday that celebrates the Eucharist.  In this region of Germany it is a national holiday and most towns have somber parades celebrating the occassion.  In the picture with the somewhat papal figure, he's reverently carrying a box, which I can only assume is the Eucharistic Host.

turns out Mickey has a boat

and later in the summer, courtesy of  a phenomenal military discount, we're gonna be on it, cruising the Baltic --Disney Style.   Ports of call include Copenhagen, Stockholm, Oslo, Talinn and St. Petersburg.  We've already booked excursions in St Petersburg, because without a Russian Visa (which we don't have the time to obtain) the only way to get off the boat is to go as part of an organized tour.  One evening I am leaving the boys on the boat and going to the ballet to see Swan Lake --in Russia. How cool is that?!?. 

When we were booking our Russian excursions, the reservations agent said to us: "Do think about going to Cinderella's Ball.  I know it's expensive and a lot of people think it's silly, but when else are you going to get to go to a ball in a castle?"

Um.... really?  been there, done that.  Maybe they should rewrite their talking points?