Well, sorta. The set of things that eat continued to expand. The neighbor’s dog. The fish in the fish tank at a nearby preschool. The bus. The zoo. Hmm. Maybe he doesn’t totally get it. Then recently Kirsten was changing his diaper, and the guy found (as he sometimes does) his, um, peepee. You know, something kids do, totally normal. Anyway, Kirsten informs him that it’s called a penis. “Penis!”, says Driscoll. “Eat.”

Now, if all you know about us is what you read on this blog, you probably think that we share a house with my parents, and sister, and sister’s family. We don’t, but to continue that facade we packed up the family and flew down to Houston for the holidays, making December something like the 5th consecutive month in which we saw them. Despite the fact that they live 1/2 of the country away. Kinda creepy, really. We do have other friends.

Visiting Houston in winter is fun, because the weather there tends to be spring-y, while the weather here is often at its nadir. Plus, spending the holidays without family kinda feels weird and empty to me, though I’ll likely have to get used to it as holiday travel grows more complicated in the coming years. But that’s a worry for another year. On to Houston!

Want a taste of what the big day was like at the Strong household? Does it get any more fun than this? You get a good look at some of our presents as well. Kirsten made the broomstick ponies that Driscoll is modeling, and we had the “pie!” t-shirts screen printed in honor of Linney Pie. Oh, and our new camera definitely does something weird to my voice. There’s no way I sound like that big of a dork in real life.

Pie. Pie is of the essence.

We tagged along with the genetics wing of the family, as my mom and brother-in-law attended an American Society of Human Genetics conference in Honolulu. We landed a sweet house on the beach near Waikiki, and spent our days getting tan, chasing rainbow colored fish, surfing, and eating too much Mahi-Mahi. Which are good ways to spend days. Well, half days, with naps and all. But anyway, see!

We needed something. Some highlights, a nip, a tuck, some manscaping, and some draw-in abs; it was time for a makeover. Witness, the new Scion.

It’s little. It’s sporty. It’s got a stereo that talks to my ipod. It’s fun, and the mpg is somewhere near my age (which, unfortunately, is good).

Finally, our blog will appeal to that influential 18-24 demographic! The creative class! Because they want to see pictures of my kid and my sister’s birthday parties… right?

Know what’s less fun? When you’re supposed to be in Hawaii right now, but everyone else in your family woke up sick.

Here’s a good one of me and the little fella, on the Shrollys’ deck.

By the way, protect my route and Save Helvetia!

Visiting Kirsten’s family is always an interesting affair, since (for those of you who don’t know) Kirsten is the youngest of 10 (TEN) kids. Here’s to Catholicism! As you can probably imagine, many of those kids have several kids of their own, so when they all get together it’s something like 237 people. Not really, but it’s in the 40s. So get-togethers tend to be raucous affairs, but it sure is easy to get a party together.

We’ll start with pics from the farm we visited in Randolph, NJ, near the home of Kirsten’s brother Steve (& family). In fact, in the last photo you can see Steve entering a barn.

Next we headed to Southampton, but apparently I was too awe-struck by hobnobbing with the haves to take any pictures. So you’ll just have to take my word for it. I really did have lunch at the Bathing Corporation of Southampton. Nothing says you’re elite like bathing at a corporation. Just look at me, I shower at Intel nearly every day! Anyway, I also knocked down a signature Rum Southside (both literally and figuratively, since I drank half then spilled the rest). Oh, and it was there that Driscoll decided it was time to start WALKING. 4 months later than all his pals, but who’s counting? Anyway, onward. From Southampton we unlocked our jaws, got some extra sun on our necks, and headed up-state to the Healey summer house on Canada Lake, in the Adirondacks.

For the Canada Lake virgins (me & D), there were a couple of traditions to learn when visiting. First, there’s the deer on the wall. Otis. He talks, remarkably like someone in the family. Someone never in the room, but possibly near the other end of the vent next to Otis. Next, there’s Uranus. Yes, the Healeys turned out to be quite a bunch of astronomers, though rather laser focused on just the one planet. Nonetheless, many evening hours were wiled away on the dock, discussing Uranus. “I could lie here all night gazing up at Uranus.” I didn’t have the nerve to bring up the fact that it really sounds like they are talking about “Your Anus”. They would have been mortified.

Anyway, it was great fun up there, as nieces and nephews haggled over who got to hold Driscoll next. This is not a luxury we have back home.

Thanks, Healeys, for hosting us newcomers! We look forward to visiting again soon!

But first! Driscoll and Linnea share a seat on the glider. And one of them enjoys it!

Next, the trip with grandparents to the fountain. There’s not much cuter than a little 2-foot fella in board shorts and a rash guard.

Interestingly, we ended up sharing a bench (and conversation) with Portland superstar (which means minor league celeb) Storm Large. Turns out she’s super nice, looks 10 years younger than she is, and most importantly, Driscoll can forever say that he got naked with her.