eight months

Dear Eleanor Jane,

Today you are eight months old.  As you've become so good at showing us, you are "so big!"  I haven't written you a note in a few months thanks to one of your new abilities - mobility.  Your last note coincided with our last few days of the blissful and serene life as we knew it.

You are a constant whirl of energy.  I see those blue eyes of yours light up, and I know it's only a minute before you're tearing across the room to make a new discovery.  You are so good for me.  I am always too cautious about life.  I think and re-think every move I make.  Not you, my dear.  You dive right in - head first - laughing joyfully all the way.

I love your curiosity.  I love your smiles.  I love the way you sound like a baby pterodactyl when you get super excited.  I love the rare moments you slow down enough to get sleepy and let me snuggle you close and smell your sweet head.   You are deliciously darling.

morning, sunshine

In an attempt to get a bit more sleep each morning, we usually bring Ellie into bed with us when she wakes up around 6:00 am.  As you can see in the above photo, she really only humors us for a few minutes before she's wide awake and ready to play.  As much as I crave more sleep these days, there is something so special about those early morning moments.  Seeing her excitement for each new day is contagious.

With some good hugs (and a of a cup of coffee!) my girl is turning me into a morning person.

made it

See that gorgeous ocean?  We made it to St. Malo!  Nearly eight hours of train riding on Friday, and we woke to beautiful, crystal clear waves gently washing ashore in front of the La Reine Marine hotel.

We walked to a 17th-century fort that is completely inaccessible at high tide.

Meandered along a medieval port city's walls.

Took a nap.

Enjoyed fantastic food.  (Sorry, no fruits de la mer for the littlest ones!)

And ate a giraffe.

It was lovely.  Merci beaucoup!

ze french

Hi there.  I am the woman who writes this blog.  Really, I do write it - all the time.  In my head.  Oh, that doesn't count, eh?  Well, how about a little update...

See this forlorn luggage sitting in my dining room?  That is a miracle-turned-disaster.  So this is what happened, first we planned this lovely trip to visit our friends in Paris and do a bit of hiking along the coast in France.  Beautiful, right?  After a sweet (but early, as usual, thanks to a certain someone who shall remain unnamed) morning of coffee drinking, we got to work packing.  And, believe it or not, we were finished an hour early.  No, I'm not kidding, an hour. With a six-month-old.  I should have known it was too good to be true.  David even rigged a handy-dandy way to attach the pack n' play to a suitcase so we didn't have to carry it.  He's awesome like that.  But back to my story, there we are, making our way to the train.  We were so early, we stopped at a bakery for some yummy snacks for the train.  As we come up from the Ubahn into the Hauptbahnhof, I notice the departures board doesn't have any Paris destinations.  Strange - must be a mistake, I think, but really, what was I thinking?  I'm in Germany, they don't make mistakes here.  Undeterred, we head for the platform, only to discover that our train isn't going to Paris.  No trains are going to Paris.  Because ze french (and yes, you must say it with an awful accent) are on strike.

Hate.

So now my bags are sitting, somewhat unpacked, in my dining room.  And I am supposed to be in this beautiful dining room...

talking, laughing, drinking and planning a trip to St. Malo while little darlings play at our feet.

Merde.

bababa

It isn't quite babbling yet, but it sure is sweet...


Ba Ba Ba from David G on Vimeo.

napping

This is what I usually find when Ellie wakes from her morning nap.  You know you've napped hard when the fingerprint evidence is imprinted on your forehead.

and we're off

What do you do with a nearly six month old when her daddy has to travel to Berlin for two weeks with no notice? Why, you hop on a train and run like mad for your dear friends in Paris.  Oui, oui!  So that's exactly what we're doing.

Eleanor and I are spending three days next week with Ingrid and Gabriella (a cutie also born in December at the Geburtshaus.)  I foresee lovely walks in the park, munching on crusty baguettes, and consuming cup after cup of dark French roast.  Perfect, non?  Now I just have to figure out how keep the girl entertained during our four-hour train ride...