Like Father, Like Son

(I like them both.)

Bernardo, 14 months old, on San Lorenzo beach in Gijón. For those of you who attended our wedding, you may recognize the church in the background from the Palm Sunday mass that we attended together, before sharing the warmest of meals on that rainy April Sunday in Gijón.

Mateo, 6 months old, celebrating his great-grandfather's 94th birthday with a big meal amidst snow-covered mountains in Felechosa.

The continuity of familial celebrations is gladdening; the resemblance of the boys, staggering. If this is any indication that Mateo has inherited character traits of his father along with the looks, the world is in for a treat.

Outgrowing the Changing Pad

Man, I love those legs. The happy socks are courtesy of Aunt Alexa, who picked them up for Mateo in her great state of Michigan.

The disarray displayed below the changing pad is nothing compared to the state of my mind. But I, like the socks, am happy.

Daily Duos

We try to get a good dose of music in each day, the best kind being that which we can make together. Mateo seems taken with all of it: the piano that he explores with his dad, the cello that plays to him during his afternoons at home with his mom, the bowing and plucking of Bernardo's violin students, whom we sometimes sneak over to the Conservatory to listen to in the early evenings. This fascination is to no credit of our musical skill but rather to Mateo's sense of wonder, as he is seemingly just as excited by the sight of my cello case, white and shiny as it is, and three times his size. He starts breathing quickly and shifting his weight back and forth between his right and his left foot (while in his exersaucer chair, of course) and reaching out with his arms as soon as he spots me with the case in my hands. Our afternoon music makes me laugh because, consciously or not, as soon as I start playing for him, Mateo begins banging on the musical touch pad of his little exersaucer chair, effectively accompanying me and my Bach suites with electronic excerpts of a) the opening lines of Beethoven's 5th Symphony; b) Old MacDonald; c) the melody of Vivaldi's "Spring" with synthesized drumbeat or d) assorted animal calls (cat, dog, cow, lion). Bach is either laughing along with us or rolling over in his grave.

Mateo takes a stroll

We don't crawl, but we do have this going for us:

Made in Spain

Cheering on the home team. Thanks for the t-shirt, Uncle Robert!

Dog Gone Cute

Few things in life rival the goodness of a recently bathed baby in clean pajamas.

The paintings of Asturian landscapes in the background were done by Mateo's abuela, Mercedes.

Sunday's Best

We got home from mass in time to watch the final sets of another spectacular tennis match between Nadal and Federer, this time the final of the Australian Open. Meanwhile, Mateo spent the hour playing, "reading," chewing, untying, and talking on the couch alongside his grandfather.

Entirely focused on the task at hand.



There will always be a touch of Bolivia in our home.



A studious pair.

This photo was not a setup.