The guys have arrived and my quiet, minimalist apartment is now loud, sticky and filled with blocks, books and boxes. But we are three, once again!
And then the Hyten boys showed up!
The guys have arrived and my quiet, minimalist apartment is now loud, sticky and filled with blocks, books and boxes. But we are three, once again!
If you show up late, you don't get eggs. (And other lessons learned from a Saturday morning in the park.)
I wasn't there to see it, but Eric and Rig showed up a few minutes late to an Easter egg hunt and there were no eggs to be found. Rig still made a few tackes, punted some poor child's ball to who knows where, and took off on a stolen Big Wheel.
Rigby's last day of school at Shalom.
Rigby has photographed his friends on his last day of school. The boy has an eye for composition.
Rigby photographs his new apartment.
I hope these pictures give you a real sense of the space, view and layout.
Rig takes pictures of his first house.
Farewell, Fountain Square. Rigby took a few pictures to help him remember the first place he knew as home.
The Big Bad Wolf
Rigby has reported that the big bad wolf is angry. Why? I asked. Because he hurt his finger, Rigby says.
We are here. "Here" being Chevy Chase.
Well so much has happened since the last time I was ambitious enough to consider blogging. I don't think I will write much on this blog about DC. This will be more of a Rigby picture site.
Reports on DC:
Rigby has now gotten on an elevator alone, and rode along until someone sent him back down to the lobby to be retrieved. I had a mild heart attack.
Rigby says we live in: "Washing the CD" and "Washingdon Disease" "Washtington CC" but mostly means we live near "Barack Obama's house."
We walked by the White House today, and Rigby was furious we could not get in. He kept saying, "But I need to talk to him!" As we walked away he whimpered, "I wanted to go to Barack Obama's house." I promised we would write him a letter.
Rig has fallen in love with the consierge of our building, and she loves him as well. They run to eachother and hug each time we are in the lobby, and Rigby has asked to stay there while Eric and I leave.
Rigby doesn't understand why there are no kids around, and asks most adults we pass, "Wherer the kids?" assuming all adults have kids somewhere. It is akward.
We found a preschool that looks great, but we found their website, and its $450 per day. You read that right. $450 per day.
Reports on DC:
Rigby has now gotten on an elevator alone, and rode along until someone sent him back down to the lobby to be retrieved. I had a mild heart attack.
Rigby says we live in: "Washing the CD" and "Washingdon Disease" "Washtington CC" but mostly means we live near "Barack Obama's house."
We walked by the White House today, and Rigby was furious we could not get in. He kept saying, "But I need to talk to him!" As we walked away he whimpered, "I wanted to go to Barack Obama's house." I promised we would write him a letter.
Rig has fallen in love with the consierge of our building, and she loves him as well. They run to eachother and hug each time we are in the lobby, and Rigby has asked to stay there while Eric and I leave.
Rigby doesn't understand why there are no kids around, and asks most adults we pass, "Wherer the kids?" assuming all adults have kids somewhere. It is akward.
We found a preschool that looks great, but we found their website, and its $450 per day. You read that right. $450 per day.
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