Jack and I have decamped to Connecticut to trade sirens for crickets and sleep in the shade. Pete and Rosie are joining us on weekends and in the meantime, Pete gets lots of iphone videos. They'd be awfully boring for anyone not related to Jack. Jack doesn't talk much yet, so it's a lot of 'blink your eyes if you love daddy' (sometimes he cooperates). Jack is doing wonderfully out here. He sleeps well (except for the incident with the 4am garbage truck last night) and suddenly has his eyes open for a good portion of the day. He is being spoiled in the arms of his Nanna (grandmother) and Grammy (great-grandmother) and generally cooed over by a stream of visitors, defenseless to do otherwise. Jack is a city kid but already he's learning the calm quiet of the country. A place where we sit outside and read all of the back issues of the New Yorker and pour ourselves gin at 6pm (just one for me, I promise).
Jack in his 'moses basket' (a handwoven basket from an antique shop on loan from a friend; place a king-size, 100% down pillow inside and your baby will catch a quick case of the zz's)
Peter, Jack and Rosie enjoy cocktail hour in different ways (gin, nap, fetch).
Rosie has taken to standing guard by her baby brother - and sometimes she licks ('Germs are a good thing', says my Uncle Jim)
Bath time in my favorite retro sink (you can buy a baby sized foam tub liner at any baby store for under five dollars; place in the bottom of the sink for an easy sponge bath).
The whole family will be back in Manhattan after Labor Day. But until then: lots of slow, shady days and fresh air.