Boston

I lived in Boston for six years.  The first three, (while in Divinity School), I didn't really take living in the city seriously.  I figured it was just a blip in time and despite finding the city really beautiful, it never, ever felt like home.

Then I decided to go to law school in Boston, so I figured if I was going to make it through three more years, I had to do something drastic.  This led to my now-infamous-in-my-family personal regime of "I'm going to make myself love Boston, god#$@it."  Clearly, this meant becoming a Red Sox fan, among other risk-taking behaviors.  Conveniently, this was in late 2003.  (Of course the infamy of this decision lies in the rabid Yankee-ness of anyone with the last name Ayala.)

I've been back to Boston lots since graduating from law school, but this weekend was the first time that Geno, Mateo and I visited as a family.  It was so special to literally walk down memory lanes -Dartmouth Place, Francis Ave and Mass Ave -with my beautiful boys in tow.  

I've got this, Mom

LT RU WITH ME?  Sitting on the steps of Andover Hall at HDS

Meeting the very handsome and dapper Baby William, son of my dear friend Amy

Look Mom- I'm climbing!

Law and Order

My personal favorite:  Mom, look, I'm peeing like a city dog!

Back to the square of so many amazing memories

I'm telling you- DO NOT touch John Harvard's foot!  

Mateo's first subway ride- kickin' it on the Orange Line

Widener Library in Harvard Yard...  Does anyone know if that Titantic story is true?

Post Script:  In case you were wondering, the Red Sox thing didn't stick.

Traktor

Well, hello friends.  There's nothing like starting a new job where you do a lot of reading, writing, thinking and talking to make you want to just want to watch Bachelorette (Jef! Jef! Jef!) and drink wine when you get home.  Blog shmlog.

But now that I have my feet under me at work, I'm ready to get back on the recreational writing horse.  Plus, Mateo is going through a major developmental spurt right now, (not to mention a physical growth spurt as well), so it feels like there's kid stuff to document and parental stuff to question myself, (and occasionally others), about.

To re-start us off, I think it's imperative for you to know about an underground world I have discovered thanks to the nimble fingers of my iPhone operating child.

What underground world is that, you ask?  A world that if you care to enter, you will likely feel indebted to me, for life.

And with that understated introduction, I give you Eastern European techno traktors....

Oh wait, you wanted computer generated techno-traktors?  Let me oblige you:

You're so, so welcome.

Vacation Day #3

Do you know what time the picture of this boat was taken?  I'll tell you: 6:45 a.m.  Remember those days when vacation meant sleeping in until noon?  Well, those days are OVAH people.  

That mini-rant aside, Vacation Day #3 was fabulous.  Our friends, the Mosherats, joined us late last night, so we got to spend the whole day doing things like climbing trees, taking harbor cruises, walking along the beach and buying a summer house.

Vacation Day #2

You don't want to know about Vacation Day #1.  Suffice it to say it involved a two year old crying and screaming, "Beach!!!!!" for at least an hour in the car, a husband pulling this car over right now! and me, Ms. Scared of Heights, having to drive over the Verra-frickin-zzano bridge.  The actual going of going on vacation was miserable.

Vacation Day #2 has been a pleasant improvement.  Despite there being a heatwave going on in Connecticut at the moment, the shore of Rhode Island has been much cooler.  So much so that forgetting to bring my jacket meant I *had* to buy a new one.  In the name of health, of course.  (The J.Crew here is called "J.Crew, by the shore."  Talk about marketing genius.)

Newport is the land of festivals: jazz, chowder, beer, and right now, daffodils.  The entire Cliff Walk has huge patches of daffodils planted along the path, which are truly beautiful.  (Weirdly we saw a lot of people picking them.  Um, hello?  Not the point.  Hands off, flower snatchers.)

After alternating between carrying Mateo and trying to keep him from nose-diving off the cliffs, we headed down to the beach to walk around and try to fly our new kite.  As you can see from the pics below, Geno was very successful!

We then ended the day with a feast of lobster quesadillas, oysters, calamari (even Mateo!) and the season's first Sam Summer.  (And as we speak, Geno is happily watching Sunday Night Baseball and cheering on the Yanks.  Shhh, don't tell all the rabid Sox fans around us.)  A definite, definite improvement over yesterday.

Vacation Day #3 will center on the theme TODDLERS GONE WILD, with the arrival of the Mosherats.   Depending on their level of appropriateness for the internet, pics may or may not be forthcoming.

Patience

I have updates - SO many updates.  But they have to wait just a few days more. In the meantime, here are some things to read to keep your mind off the stagnation of my upcoming news:

• The Tyranny of Monolingualism
• Katniss v. Bella
• If I had a son, he would look like Trayvon
• The three fairy godmothers: Health Care, Day Care and Education

Familia

This past week was surreal.

Sadly a number of our extended family members had really serious health crises - to the point where every phone call became more shocking than the next.  It's not my place to say much more, but any general prayers for healing that you want to throw out there into the universe would be welcomed.

And then in amazingly good news, we learned about another family member's looooong awaited pregnancy, and new job opportunities for number of members of the fam presented themselves.  Plus, in the midst of all of this my parents and sister arrived for Mateo's birthday celebration weekend.

If ever there were a string of events to remind me: the strength of family (writ large) is our ability to celebrate, struggle, love and grieve together.

On Two! Two on Two! Two Much?

Beloved baby boy,

I can still call you my baby, right? Even though you are so totally not a baby? Today you turn two years old, which on one hand is mind-bending, but on the other hand feels like old news. Aren't you supposed to be four by now? Yes, that's right, I want you to be our baby four year old. I'm your mother, it's my prerogative to be nonsensical.

Last year on your birthday, I wrote about your birth day. It was a surreal and magical experience, and it is so special to remember all, (well okay, most,) of the details. I know that every parent sees beauty in the face of their newborn, but seriously kid, you were tan bello.  Lo mas bello del mundo.

When you turned one, we couldn't resist giving you a Dr. Seuss themed party, since you were both born on March 2nd.  You have always been a hat kid, so it was only surprising to those who don't see you regularly that you kept the Cat in the Hat hat for the duration of your birthday party.  (You will notice from the background of the picture below that the adults are drinking vino.  Because that's what one-year-old birthday parties are for: dressing the kid up, while the grown ups get down.)

This year we're basically doing a week long celebration.  Last night Papa and Abuela kicked off the festivities with cupcakes and candles, tonight we'll go out for pizza and fro-yo, and tomorrow you get to have a birthday Skype session with Scott in South Africa.  (Titi Deborah's boyfriend and your man crush.)  

But wait!  That's not all!

At the end of the week Grandma and Grandpa arrive, and then on Saturday the cousins will converge.  Non-stop partying awaits my friend.  Good thing you're loading up on sugar now to make it through!

Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to you.

I love you,

Mama