My little Angels

Little Joe playing with pillow forts with Rachael Little Joe is 19 months old... just about time for me to stop referencing his age in months to other people.  I don't recall hearing anyone saying 'My son is 23 months old.'  It's usually a fraction of a year for a bit and then whole year increments.  I would like to try to keep this blog fresh, though, so I may stick with the monthly convention for now or just convert to the name of the month and year instead.  I'll see how I feel about it over the next few months. Lots of changes going on here in Belgium for us recently.  We are officially moving home on November 5th and have already scheduled our moving arrangements for when we leave.  It is bittersweet in a lot of ways, but for me the one thing with little Joe I will regret is that he is just now finally in toddler day care instead of infant and seems to be really enjoying his new playmates.  Since he's on the low end of his group he seems to be looking

Little Joe enjoying Trafalger Square in London Little Joe is now a year and a half old, which seems like an insane concept to me for a lot of reasons.  First, the math in my head says that he has been alive for nearly 5% of my life span; I feel like my life is just flying by and I have already started living vicariously through my son.  Second, it means that he is approaching the age when I have my first memories- I very distinctly remember my 3rd and 4th birthdays- and the thought that the smallest things we do could end up with him as a fond and distant memory for the rest of his life is incredibly humbling and emotional for me. In the last month little Joe has learned to love going outside, especially on the backpack carrier that we bought for me to use with him.  He frequently begs us to take him downstairs to the main level of the house and then will try to open the front door or will point at the backpack for us to take him outside.  Unfortunately most of the time we are un