As promised -- and I know you were all holding your breath -- here are some pics from our week at Sandy Island. After that, we'll have a slide show and lecture on the gymnosperms of New England, and after that, we'll clean out the garage. Then I'll buy you all ice cream for being so good. Ready? Let's go.
Here we are on the porch of Alastair's parents' cabin, Analto (for all you other Sandyites out there). During the week we discovered that paper cups make excellent toys, as do paper plates, plastic bowls, empty potato chip bags (crinkly!) and flip flops. Shortly after this photo was taken, Elsa attempted to dive face-first off the porch onto the granite step below. I caught her by the straps of her dress, just in time. The girl has no innate sense of self-preservation. At what age do they start understanding the concept of ledges, and how you shouldn't crawl / walk / dive over them? Ever?
Here's Clio in the dining hall with her "uncle" Jeff. I have to admit, I'm not a big fan of the ersatz uncle moniker, as it makes me think of a slightly sleazy boyfriend a divorced mom brings home. "Kids, meet your Uncle Jim. You're going to be seeing a lot of him. Not like Uncle Dave and Uncle Bob and Uncle Leo. They were no good, two-timing bastards. But Uncle Jim is here to stay. Right, Jim-baby?"
But I digress. As I mentioned in the last post, Clio was in great spirits at Sandy, and seemed much more comfortable around new people. She also added a few new silly moves to her silly repertoire. While sitting in her high chair, she would suddenly tilt her head over to one side, resting on her shoulder, and smile. Lord knows why, but it was very cute. She's also started doing this goofy-bordering-on-creepy thing where she bobbles her head back and forth like a Bollywood heroine. And she continues to enjoy flapping her arms and banging her feet and rocking vigorously forward and back, headbanger style, while seated. I hope these repetetive motion tendencies aren't an indication that something is amiss. My apologies to any Indian film stars or Quiet Riot fans I've offended by posing the question.
Here, the ladies lounge happily on Sandy beach. Elsa is probably about to put a handful of sand in her mouth, grimace in displeasure, whimper uncomfortably as I try to get the sand out of her mouth and off her face, and then grab another handful of sand and repeat.
Sometimes putting the babies in the water went over well. Other times, not so much.
We borrowed our friends' Urban Mountain Buggy double stroller for the week, and I don't know how we would have survived without it. The thing handles like a dream, fits through doorways, works on almost any terrain. Only problem is, now we're totally spoiled and we totally want one. But they totally cost about $700 new. So even a used one wouldn't be cheap. Hey, if anyone from the Urban Mountain Buggy stroller company is reading this, do you need a spokesperson? Like, perhaps an unfamous mother of twins with a mommy blog read by dozens of people? No? Well, it was worth a shot.
Here, the girls tolerate and survive their first Sandy Island Italian Night. Shown here, the traditional bellowing of "That's Amore" by a bunch of silly adults, including abuelito, all of whom have had a few glasses of wine before dinner.
Speaking of wine....well, probably the less said about this picture the better. Sufficeth to say, Mama still remembers how to party. And she's a pretty good shot. (That's a BB gun, by the way.)
About to board the 11:00 boat and say fare thee well to Sandy until next year -- when the girls will be walking. And I thought this year was a lot of work...
