I’m late with this post (what’s new?). Two weeks ago I took Lyle to upstate New York to hang out with friends for a week. Not just a few friends, but a LOT of friends, from all over the U.S. (and one who came from London). Mostly moms and kids, with a few husbands thrown into the mix, too. At the highest point I think there were 17 kids and nearly as many adults. We slept in various spots in two big houses–the host’s and her mother-in-law’s house next door. We spent the days hanging out and talking. We cooked together and ate together–there was always something happening in the kitchen. The kids played together and loved it–the house full of toys, all the other kids, the snow outside.
Lyle was particularly enamored of a 6-month-old baby who laughed with him the very first night we arrived–Lyle referred to him the rest of the week as “that baby I make laugh.” He also really liked “the boy in the orange shirt,” even on the subsequent days when the boy was no longer wearing an orange shirt.
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