Babies Everywhere, Including Reid and Petra; A Boy and His Bike

First, some nice news from our relatives over in Egypt. You'll recall our visit to Cairo last fall, to attend the wedding of my cousin Ingy to a gentleman named Mohamed. Well, this morning, Ingy gave birth to a baby girl named Jana.

Next on the baby-riffic agenda is some of the first photography of Reid with his little cousin Petra.

Because I'm the go-to uncle and Reid is the type of cousin who will gladly come to your house and help his dad babysit while watching "Toy Story," the boy and I got to spend some quality time with Ms. Petra over at her place a week or so back and came back with this fine picture. K and I are closely observing Reid's behavior around the new little tyke-ette, so as to be prepared for questions and cuteness in the offing when we bring our own new little girl into the house. Reid was a perfect cousin, and was interested in making sure the baby was comfortable and happy. Then we watched Buzz and Woody, natch.

Finally, a funny story from Dr. Martin Luther King Day. K had to work, so the boy and I kicked it at the pad. We talked a little about Dr. King, even though I am completely aware that there is no way this will sink in. We logged some quality time playing with the Christmas-gift train, and then we decided to brave the cold and ride the 'bike.'

I had been talking about how cold it was, and Reid took the message to heart. Already wearing a sweatshirt, Reid added a scarf, mittens, the Elmer Fudd hat, and his big coat. "Ready?" I asked. "Yep."

Out we went, with the Radio Flyer Tricycle. We haven't really spent much time on the bike since Christmas, because of a combination of weather, travel and who knows what else. But the few times we took to the three-wheeled main, Reid was not that excited about it, mostly smiling and sitting there.

Really more of the same this time, though there was technically some locomotion. Reid either doesn't understand or doesn't want to bother with the whole pedaling thing. We worked together on the street in front of the house, while the dog blinked in the half-light sending little dog-telepathy messages about how nice it would be if we actually took a walk every once in a while. (Sorry, Dix.) I stood over Reid and helped him understand how pushing on the pedals made the bike go. I nudged him and pointed to his rotating feet as example of the connection between travel and pedalling. To all of this he nodded sagely and sometimes said "Huh?" without really wanting to hear any more information.

Then he decided that his best course of action was to push the bike while astride it, which is harder on a tricycle than on a bike, if you think about it. We pushed around a little while and Dixie made moves to taking herself for a walk sans-family. Reid and I headed down toward the yard where Dixie had made her stand.

I got about five paces ahead of Reid and then turned back to him. I said, "Come on, bud. Pedal."

He looked up at me and then dismounted from the tricycle. He held up a hand like he was silencing a crowd. He waited a beat and said, "I walk. Daddy. I walk."



Then we had hot chocolate. (Click on most of these pictures to see big versions.)