Della, Congested

Boy, there has been a lot of pollen blowing around the DC metro area. It’s raining now, but not soon enough. Della is all stuffed up: so much for STTN.* Here she is, talking to an octopus.

Grandma Linda babysat last night while Della’s parents went to Old Town for dinner. Octopus wasn’t on the menu, but they did sample other fruits of the sea and also waterfowl. 

Earlier that same day, Steve bottled some of his own beer. Which, his friend Rihana says, is right on time for a thirty-something who just bought a house and had a baby in 2012.

While Steve was bottling alcohol, I was learning to save lives at an infant CPR training in the District of Columbia with Megan and Adrian. Very sadly, we forgot to take any pictures. So here’s a picture of Della that transcends understanding (courtesy of Grampa Mike [who thought I was taking a class in “Infancy PR”]):

*STTN = Sleeping Through The Night


Behind Bars

A crib is a lonely place. Imagine if your bed were this much bigger than you, proportionally. And suppose you were not allowed to snuggle up with any blankets or pillows, except for one blanket wrapped around you like a straitjacket. Well, anyway, this morning Della took her first nap in her crib. I charmed her to sleep with about 20 rounds of “Stay Awake” from Mary Poppins (because it’s never too early for reverse psychology) and “Maybe” from Annie (because it’s never to early to be grateful you’re not an orphan).  




Baby Circus

We think Della looks a lot like a circus performer in this outfit.



Monster of Many Faces


Wait! That’s not Della. That’s Margaret Richards on Body Electric, broadcast mid-mornings on WHUT. I tried to get Della to do some of these exercises, but she is just like her mom when it comes to working out. 

Outdoor Della

In other cultures, April is considered a springtime month. Here and now, it is summery. Some random outdoor weekday shots:

Some people say we walk too often through Hollin Hills, and we should try some other routes. Here we are at Huntley Meadows, on an informal trail:

Also at Huntley Meadows. Here Steve said something like, you’ve really gotta love wetlands to love wetlands.

This morning Della slept for a long time on the deck. The authentic nature noises proved even more soothing than the fake heartbeat noises on her machine upstairs. (Look at all those blankets. Man, when she woke up she was sweating balls. [I know that’s crude, but it’s a really common expression.])

And finally, here is my family on a Sunday afternoon.

Old Friends

Grampa Mike came to visit!

We all got haircuts, except for Della. Some people say her hair is thinning! Others say it is really beautiful. Still others claim that it’s curly/blonde/long… What’s not debatable is the luxuriousness of this young grandfather’s silver locks. The hairdresser at Pazzaz said so.

On Friday night we all went out to dinner at Rustico, and the Andersons got sort of romantico with each other.

By Saturday morning, Grampa’s health had taken a turn for the worse. He came down with some sort of vicious virus and was quarantined to the back room. We were only allowed to hang out with him on the back deck, like this:

Grampa left on Sunday to do some work in Baltimore. We hear he is on the mend. Get well soon, Gramps!