I just returned from a wonderful weekend in the midwest--meeting an adorable young man who was far more interesting than the books I brought for the weekend. This 7-month old baby is my fictive nephew--the son of a dear friend who is (at least as far as my parents and I are concerned) a part of our family.
What a joy to watch B. begin to point at our noses, sit up so confidently, and work on learning to crawl! My son loved playing Scottish tunes on his violin while B. danced in his doorway jumper, keeping the beat. I loved reading to him from his assorted board books. (His favorites this weekend were a 3-page rhyme about pandas and a one-word-a-page color book with pictures of babies on each page.)
I'm afraid we had a little fun at his expense, too--dressing him up with a cabbage-leaf hat as we prepared dinner:
Unfortunately, as the visit ended, I tripped while emerging from the bathtub and seem to have broken a couple of toes. They are swollen and purple--and elevated and iced. I'll be spending the day on the couch with a couple of light books.
My brain right now is mush--from the combination of cuteness overload (good) and toe pain (bad). I hope to be back to bookish blogging very soon.