Seamus Loves His Drum

... but needs to keep hydrated.

Thanks, Uncle Frankie!

When Seamus Met Buddy

Runaway Schmoo

Last week, we had our very first "oh my god, where is my child?!" moment. We were in the lobby of our gym, getting ready to leave, and Greta was talking to her friend Amy, with whom she had just finished attending a spinning class. Seamus and I had just emerged from the gym's day-care room, and Seamus insisted on running around the lobby, investigating and exploring, rather than being held.

"Oh, wait," I said to Greta, "I forgot the diaper bag in the day-care room. I'll be right back." When I returned from the day-care a moment later, I looked around and asked Greta, "Um, where is Seamus?" She looked at me in horror.

"Oh my god, I forgot I was watching him!" she said, and we scrambled to find him. I had visions of him trapped under a treadmill, pulling 50-lb weights off of a bench, or getting his arm caught in a spinning cycle's wheel. Greta, I later learned, instead had visions of him being abducted by the psychopaths who, TV news assures us, are lurking everywhere at all times.

It turned out he had made a beeline for the women's locker room. Sniff [choking back tears of pride] ... that's my boy!

Snow Boy

swingin' seamus

today at the wooster street playground ...



he can swing and eat a grilled cheese sandwich at the same time! verrryyyy impressive