That is the Question

To beard,


or not to beard.


To hair,


or not to hair.


This is what I bug Kim with every month or two.






Really, it's the question of our times.

Kim Gets Her Hands on the Camera

I love the fall, and it is especially beautiful here in Virginia. I had to take the traditional fall pictures (pumpkins, leaves, hats, umbrellas, crying), so enjoy.

Here are the few pictures (out of the 150 I took) that made the cut. After seeing these you will understand why there are only a few pitiful pictures of them together.



I love these of Henry. I can't believe Henry is now 6 months old. Henry did pretty good tolerating Mom and the many pictures.







Megan and her new Sleeping Beauty umbrella, which goes everywhere with her. She rules the neighborhood with her umbrella, making all of the other kids jealous every chance she gets.





Megan went on the carousel on the National Mall all by herself, which I thought would be fine, right until the first go a round, and she started slipping off and got nervous and then cried the rest of the ride. The attendant keep having to push her back up, and he wouldn't stop it so I could go get her. Fun times.


Our after dinner entertainment.

Same Body, Different Spirits

The second in our, "Gee, don't our kids look similar" series.

But honestly, could you tell them apart if it weren't for the fact that Megan was obviously born way back in the B.D. (Before Digital) era?





Some things to look for in the pictures --

• both Meg and Henry grabbed the outside of their right foot, and the inside of their left foot;
• they share that impossible-to-comb, pomeranian-wispy not-quite-brown/not-quite-blond hair that grows straight up;
• we're obviously still using the same brand of lotion, and the same box of wipes;
• for some reason the gender-neutral yellow changing pad cover that we had for Megan was inexplicably replaced with a blue cover for our man-child.

HOPE

Congratulations, President Obama.

The People's Holiday

Last year, Hannity was prescient enough to warn us of an insidious communist plot to turn our children into lazy, handout-seeking liberals -- that's right, Halloween.

If you're still skeptical, despite hearing it directly from that sage of the airways, just take a look at who was out trick-or-treating yesterday


You guessed it, that Halloween-promoting, candy-wealth redistributing, soon to be socialist-in-chief himself.

We celebrated The People's Holiday all week long. First, there was the Trunk or Treat at the church. Kim set up a touch-and-feel booth, complete with brains, tongues, teeth, hearts and intestines. It was a hit.


Megan joined up with her fellow princesses, and spent most of the night running away from me and proving her independence.


At least Henry has no choice but to stick with me.


On Sunday, we made a spur of the moment trip out to the Shenandoah river to enjoy the fall leaves. It was a beautiful day.



Meg and Henry loved the outdoors




And the leaves were out in full force


Later in the week, we had our traditional pumpkin carving night



Megan wasn't too sure about gutting the pumpkin at first


But she eventually deigned to touch the slimy innards


Henry had no qualms about it at all


As usual, my pumpkin won


Then it was on to All Hallows Eve itself. Our kids got back into their costumes, for the third or fourth time this week.



We met up with our Halloween comrades, and sought handouts from all the fat cat candy-capitalists on our street.


After all that, the good news is that Megan prefers all of the worst candy (suckers, smarties, airheads, etc.), so I have full access to the candy bars. I love socialism.













And, by popular demand, here is a picture of Dr. Gregory House, with his cane and boot.

I wrote this wearing only a towel

I feel very much like someone has had their finger on the Fast Forward button of my life lately.

Here's what has happened in the last month that I have neglected to document.

Megan is learning a lot at preschool. Here she is swimming in a corn pit with her fellow scholars, undoubtedly for some kind of physics or higher calculus lesson.


This is the first year that Megan has been old enough to anticipate Halloween, and she has been getting ready for it for months. She has been helped in her endeavors by a big package from Grandma, and a lot of fun activities with Kim.


Henry and Megan have been having a great time together. I'm getting a little nervous about what it's going to be like when Henry is as mobile as Meg.




Along with getting some teeth, Henry has graduated to "eating" rice cereal. He doesn't seem to like it much, but really, who would?


Kim and I celebrated our 6th anniversary with a romantic picnic for two on the Potomac. Sadly, our romantic picnic was crashed by our little sidekicks. Megan took this picture. I think she has an eye for photography like her dad -- look at the framing, with the Martinelli's bottle in the foreground.



My parents had a long layover in Baltimore, so we rented a big van and drove up there to have lunch with them and their friends. They brought a giant rain storm with them, but it was great to see them anyway.



Finally, we had our ward's annual Lobster Fest, where $12 bucks will get you a full lobster, flown in fresh that day and cooked on site.



That's right -- when you live in a blue state (don't forget, according to the McCain campaign, we're in the "communist" part of Virginia), you get lobster and sushi at ward activities.



Stay tuned for an overabundance of Halloween pictures.

Oh, I nearly forgot. Remember my bike accident back in June? Well, I've been ignoring the fact that my foot never felt better, until about a month ago when Kim convinced me to finally go to the doctor. Turns out I had a fracture and a tendon injury that have never healed because I've been walking around on them. I guess I'm a little too tough for my own good. The doctor promptly slapped me into a knee high boot and asked me to start using a cane. That's right -- a cane. Give me a monocle and a top hat and I'd be Mr. Peanut.

Here is a video of Megan picking up on her dad's problem.