Christian, 3 months old

Hey, look! Those things down there are attached to me! And they move!



Freaky.


And do you have any idea how hard it is to capture fleeting baby smiles on camera? Good thing we have a digital since it took about 20 shots to get this one and it's not even his best smile.



THIS is his best smile.

Mother's little helper

Alex helped me cook dinner last night. Standing on a step-stool in the kitchen he washed and peeled the carrots (it was his first time with the peeler and he caught on right away) and washed the zucchini; after I had cubed the veggies he transferred them from the cutting board to a bowl. He unwrapped a boullion cube for me and dropped it in the pot and measured out one cup of rice. He helped me sautee the veggies (constantly reminding me fein! fein! - gently, gently), poured broth into the pan and shook out some spices. Unfortunately Reto was occupied with a crying Christian during this so we have no pictures but trust me, it was adorable. It added maybe 15 minutes to the cooking time (mostly due to slow carrot peeling) but was absolutely worth it. It was a pleasure, and solved the what-do-we-do-with-Alex-when-one-of-us-is-cooking-and-the-other-one-is- trying-to-settle-Christian-down problem.

The ten-week gap

I consider Christian to be a winter baby. Partly because of his original due date of December tenth, partly because I had to buy a new winter maternity jacket to get me to the end of Christian's pregnancy, partly because it was cold when he was born and it's been cold ever since; whatever the reason, with a birth date of November 19 in Switzerland, I consider Christian to be a winter baby.

Alex was a winter baby. Born January thirtieth in Switzerland, there is no doubt about it. Alex was a winter baby.

So I have two boys, both born in winter. Hurrah! Christian has a wealth of hand-me-downs. Except. Except there are ten calendar weeks between Christian's birth date and Alex's, and infant weeks are sort of like dog-years: ten of them is a lot. Christian is wearing a size 62 now, and I just washed and sorted all of Alex's old 62s and guess what? They're cotton. And short sleeved. With little matching shorts. And a Hawaiian-print shirt. So here I am, with my second winter boy, buying all new infant clothes that Christian will grow out of in a month. Which, when I first heard the due date for this second pregnancy, I never imagined I'd be doing.

What a difference ten weeks makes.

Three

Alex turned three on Wednesday. It seems just yesterday he was born and here he is, three. Running and singing and ice-skating. Speaking Swiss and English. Protecting his little brother and rocking his little chair when he cries. Eating pizza with schwarze Oliven (black olives), his favorite. Learning his alphabet (H wie Honda! O wie Obi! W, X, Y and Z! are his favorite letters). Three.

He had a little party on Wednesday and had a lot of fun. Here he is with Niels, helped by Patricia.

Racing Tractor Girl, aka Elizabeth.

Niels in the foreground, Sandra with Clara in the background.

Bob the Builder!

As late as this morning he was saying "Thank you for my lovely birthday!" (where does he learn some of these things?) But he didn't like the cupcakes with frosting. What? A son of mine? Really? (Again, where does he learn some of these things?).

Three. My first-born son. This boy


is three.