We have had a busy holiday season this year. Maxim began thinking about Christmas before Thankgiving and grew more excited as the day approached. "What day is tomorrow?" She would ask me randomly several days before Christmas. "Tomorrow is Wednesday." I would say. "Oh." She would go back to her things for a few minutes then, "When do we go to Grammy's house? Is that Wednesday?" "No, not until Thursday." "Oh." I try to figure out how to wrap six sided boxes again and then, "After we sleep tomorrow, then it will be time to go to Grammy's house?" I have to think for a second, "Right," I finally say. Noah is less specific about his excitement, but he does bound about the house with a little more lift in his feet. "Wrestle with me Daddy!" he says, trying to goad me into a chase. "Get me!" We spend Wednesday night with Coralie and Ken and Nico and then Thursday packing up things and running last minute errands before heading north. By the time we get on the road, the kids are exhausted...but still excited. We drove all the way to Hampden, Maine where Auntie Amity is building her own growing family with Jeff. Auntie Nikki and Uncle Arty joined us with Nicholas and Amanda and we had a delicious dinner of Jambalaya with all the fixin's. The cousins played well together; Noah, Tom, and Nicholas hunted ghosts, Maxim and Alison played dolls. We stayed the night and were treated to a blueberry pancake breakfast the next morning before heading north to Grammy's house. The kids stayed awake most of the highway drive and then lolled off to sleep along the rolling stretch of road along Route 6. By the time we crested the hill at the top of Talmadge Road, they were fast asleep. But it was nice to finally be at Grammy's house. There were spruce trees out front, covered in colorful lights. The big windows that look out across their fields were outlined in white lights. The tree stood proud in the window. Maxim got the gift of her 2005 Christmas when Grammy handed her Kaitlyn Kate (Maxim's name for the doll), her new baby doll. Only a Grammy would know how much a four year old girl might like such a doll, and in her eminent wisdom, Grammy gave it to her at the very beginning of the visit, so she could play before Christmas. And play with her, she did, first taking stock of every item that came with it - a bottle, a carrying basket, a bib, change of clothes, spoon, fork, plate. She changed her diaper and put her to bed, woke her up and fed her lunch. For the rest of the weekend, when Maxim wasn't playing with Kaitlyn Kate, she was somewhere perfectly assembled for eating or sleeping or whatever Maxim had just been doing with her. Nor was Maxim the only indulged grandchild at the house. Noah also got a pretty great gift, a huge toy firetruck. It is a beautiful red ladder truck with a working ladder and lights and sounds. He plays with it a lot. But the very favorite gift for Noah this Christmas was the plastic axe that came with the fireman's vest. This tool, Noah has informed us, is not for fire fighting, but to fight monsters and ghosts. Noah stalked them all weekend and continues to do so back here at home. Both kids had a wonderful Christmas. They loved visiting their grandparents and their cousins and spending time with their new cousin, "Baby Erik," Noah likes to call him. "He's too small to play baseball." Noah said. Having a littler boy cousin is nice for Noah, who can finally feel like he's not always going to be the baby. They got a chance to see Jean and David's hand-built house at the edge of Pocomoonshine Lake and walk out into a fog that seemed to conceal the edges of the earth. We had a delicious Christmas dinner, played cut-throat Scrabble, and packed ourselves into the car the next day to head back to Massachusetts before the storm. We just made it, according to eyewitness reports. We were treated to a third meal at Amity's, a delectable chowdah, as we passed through Hampden on our way south. We arrived home after dark on the 26th of December. It has been a quiet few days at home since then. New Year's is mid-summer in Argentina and so a tradition of spring-cleaning has taken place. Everything is washed top to bottom and all the rooms are in order. We had a nice dinner with our friends Lisa and John and their son Griffin the night before last. The snow in the backyard has nearly melted off now. We enter the new year with warm memories from the last, a relatively clean slate, and comfort in the knowledge that our cycles continue once again. We wish peace to everyone in 2006.

The snow has hung around for days now, despite promises of warmer weather from the television news. The kids have been busy building tents in the livingroom. Maxim wants to know when we're leaving to visit Grammy and Noah lays on the couch, strumming the guitar and listening to Raffi. We have made chocolates this year to send around to family and close friends. Maxim helped mix and drop pieces into the melted chocolate. She was also an excellent taster of all spoons and forks and chocolate drippings. The week was filled with visits here and there and elsewhere. There was Micaela's sixth birthday party where we saw all of our Argentinean and Brazilian friends. We went to a play in Jamaica Plain with Juan Pedro, Gabby, and Steve and the kids hung out with Esperanza. We went to Joey's parents house and saw Lisa and Brenda and Kerry and Jason. We went to Jeff and Krista's house and met a whole bunch of new people.
We went to the Schlessinger Library holiday party and caught up with some of Marcela's colleagues... It feels like we haven't been home in days. But that isn't true. In addition to making the chocolates, we made holiday cards and printed photos. We gathered addresses from papers everywhere and started making our lists. Settling into our own home lets us finally gather together some things that have lived in boxes or in various places apart from each other for years now. We can make permanent lists, we can begin regular rituals and traditions. We feel that sense of things as we engage in our visits and put up our lights and rebuild our tree, life has come to a certain amount of rest. Things move, mind you, but they move around a fulcrum instead of chaotically or intermittantly. It is a different sort of rhythm for our family than we have felt since returning to this state almost five years ago.
The air stays at the freezing mark, but the sun takes layers from the bed of snow, now more than a week old. The ground begins to show through in places. The kids and I go shopping to find a Christmas present for Marcela. Maxim wants to get her a jewelry box. Noah wants to get her jewelry. Perfect. We stop by Carmela's on our way to downtown and they bring her a gift of chocolates. Carmela takesa care of Noah three times a week, but seh always sends him home with a small bag of snacks to share with Maxim in the car. They both want to hand her the gift and walk up the driveway holding it together, which Carmela melts to see. "They're adorable," she exclaims. "Merry Christmas Carmela," they say I unison, holding up the gift. "It's chocolate," Noah says. "I helped Daddy make it," Maxim tells her.
The solar year ended Wednesday with a very short day. The calendar year still has a week in it. The kids only know that these are festive days. They get to see friends and family more than usual, and eat sweets and goodies all through the day. They see their cousins and grandparents and everywhere they go people seem to give them things. What could be better for a child? We leave for Maine Thursday some time. Catherine will care for Bones and watch our house while we're gone. Another year done.

Did I mention it snowed yesterday? It started before we awoke, before the sun even came up, and it persisted through the morning in a steady dusty fall, inch upon inch. We got in the car as we do every Friday morning to drive Marcela to the train station. The snow continued to fall. We made our way out of our neighborhood and onto Main Street. The snow was really coming down. The plows hadn't been out yet and it was already 8:30 in the morning. As we inched toward the train station we decided it wasn't going to stop snowing any time soon and that it was probably too dangerous to be out driving. We turned around for home, stopping by the supermarket on the way. We also stopped at the five and dime to replace Maxim's tiara, which had broken on Thursday. We drove home very slowy. We were supposed to get a major snow earlier in the week. Every news station warned about it, some schools in Massachusetts even closed in anticipation of it. Then it didn't come. The snow and weather skirted south of us. In response, none of the local news stations made too very much of a big deal about yesterday's incoming snow, even though it packed an even bigger punch. No one seemed prepared. Just after lunch, I tried to get the kids outside, but Noah would have none of it. So I took Maxim and Catherine only. I cleaned snow from around our doors and along the side of our house and our car while Maxim and Catherine cleared large areas of snow from Catherine's back yard and tried to build a snow fort. We worked and played outside for about an hour, maybe more, and then the snow really started getting strong, blinding us. "Who wants to go inside for hot cocoa?" I asked. Both girls accepted the offer and came inside. When we entered the house, the front and back stairs and the entire car and space around the parking area were clear of snow. Outside it became a white out. You could barely see the house behind ours through the snow. "That's quite a storm," I kept saying, as if no one else noticed. "It's really coming down out there. Would you look at all that snow?" "It's a lot." Marcela would affirm. "Can I go back outside and play?" Maxim would ask. "Please? Please, Daddy, please?" The snow kept coming down, layer after layer in rapid succession. "Look at all that snow. It's like the Pleistocene never ended...well, of course, it hasn't...but I mean, it's like the glaciers are on their way back." "What are you talking about Daddy?" "There's a lot of snow, sweetie." "Can I have a bowl of snow with maple syrup, Daddy?" I get her one and then we build a big tent in the livingroom where I ask her to lay down. "I don't want to sleep, Daddy." "I know, sweetie. You don't have to. Just lie down a little." Within ten minutes she is asleep. They are good kids, Maxim and Noah. I guess, though, that is what all parents think about their children. They are all good kids. How can you not love them? We look at our children and feel this love without even trying. I see their every move as somehow beautiful. In an earlier time I might have sneered at such sentiments, at such sentimentality. But now, there it is. There are Noah and Maxim, my children. Young lives who depend upon me, who feed on my presence and mimic my actions, whose introduction to life and the world is mediated by my choices right now. It is an enormous responsibility, one that I reflect upon every day. When the snow ended, as it finally did at 4:00 p.m., the western sky opened just before el sol dipped behind the trees. Outside, the street and the walkway and everything else I had shoveled clear earlier was covered in six or more inches of snow. There was work to be done, but we were treated to a stunning sunset and the quieter calm of cold, high-pressure air. How much snow? Look at the cedar bush in the upper right hand corner of the three backyard photographs above.

The winter season is upon us. The snow in this picture hadn't melted before the storm swept in this morning. An inch an hour is falling today. Light fluffy flakes, chilled air. Yesterday we put the rest of the back yard toys back into the sandbox and moved the rest of the things inside - except for the sled. Now that December and the snow is upon us, we have begun to do more things inside. This past week has been one busy with preparation for The Day of the Virgin, the tradition tree-decorating day in Argentina (December 8). On Tuesday, Marcela, Maxim, and Noah, with help from Catherine, made snowflake ornaments out of popsicle sticks, pressed foam board, and sparkles for our Christmas tree. Marcela tied strings to each and every one. The next day we began assembling the tree. We have modified the traditional Christmas tree for our house. We like to build things with our hands and with random stuff. Last year we built a tree out of dowels. It was the fourth year in a row that we had made a craft tree for Christmas, but last year's tree was built to last. It is a holiday decoration and a minimalist sculpture. Dowels of increasing diameter are inserted through perpendicular holes along the length of a closet sized dowel cut at about five feet long. The holes are offset about ten degrees clockwise from each set of similar sized 'branches.' A green string is tied top to bottom around the ends of these 'branches,' giving the outline form of the tree (ours is a spruce as well). When I first assembled it Noah said, "No, that's not a tree. I want a...I want a plant one." Maxim remembers this one from last year and enjoys the fun of assembly; she couldn't wait to hang the globe ornaments on the ends. "This is going to be the best Christmas ever," she reiterated as the tree went up. "Can we hang the other ormament?" she asks. "I want to put a star on." Wednesday and Thursday they decorated and Marcela made a star for the top. Thursday night it was ready to go; the lights had been put on, the star, and all the ornaments were on as well. We even had our first two holiday cards to hang on the crossing strings. Maxim thinks we should add tinsel to the 'branches' as well and we are considering it. Right on cue, the snow started coming down over night. And now a blanket of fresh powder layers everything outside. Photos of that later. Our warm house echoes with childrens' laughter and and warm spirits.

Almost without warning, winter is upon us. We knew it was coming, Maxim has been anticipating it for weeks now, but now it is here. It is right on schedule with the new month. We decided, at Noah and Maxim's insitence, that we ought to put lights on our house. It takes more than you would figure - more than I did figure. After two trips to the hardware store, we had the unbiquitous icicle lights around the bay window and an outline of lights on the front door. "The upstairs windows look too dark." Marcela said. Two more boxes of lights and now the top has illumination, but I haven't photographed it. It's a slipperly slope; on the way home from the train Friday I wanted to buy two more strings of lights to outline the windows on the bottom. Marcela had better sense and insisted we just go home. "This is going to be the best Christmas ever," Maxim said when I told her I was going to put up the lights. She has no idea how funny that sounds coming from a four year old who only vaguely remembers last Christmas. I stood or laid out on the bay window roof to attach the lights, and Maxim stood inside the bedroom window, asking her run of questions. "Are you scared, Daddy? Do you feel like you could fall? I would be scared. Can I come out?" "No. Stay in side." "I don't think I would be scared. Are you hanging the lights, Daddy? How are you going to light them? This is going to be the best Christmas ever." The weather has certainly cooperated so far. Today, as Maxim awoke remembering she would be going to the Nutcracker in Boston, she looked out the window. "Daddy! Snow!" "Look Daddy, snow!" Noah mimicked. "It's really covering." All day long it fell. Not heavy enough to cover the still-warm asphalt roads, but certainly in volumes to cover grass and trees and soil. Maxim, Marcela, Gordon, Marie, and Gwen left for Boston just before noon. Noah and I stayed around the house, ate some lunch, wrestled, took a bath, and now he's down to sleep. He's grown in leaps and bounds these past few months. He speaks with clarity and in complete sentences. Last night at Esperanza's birthday party, he walked into the room where Esperanza's aunts and grandparents were chattering loudly and said, "Hey, be quiet! We're trying to watch a movie." This morning when I was walking around with the digital camera he said, "take my picture, Daddy," and posed with this piece of blue plastic that he found in Esperanza's toy box yesterday. "Thank you," he said when I showed him the picture. The other day when I was sitting at the piano he came into the living room and said, "I want to play, Daddy. Let me play." I gladly put him on the stool and he gently plunked the keys, one or two at a time, making a suprisingly nice sound. We, of course, praised him. He jumped down from the stool, "I'm done. Your turn, Daddy," and left the room. The big excitment this weekend, however, was Maxim's and Gwen's first dance recital. They dressed in black leotards and red and green skirts, they put on make up and danced in front of a full middle school auditorium. Each of them had a number with their class and then they got to be together during the finale - "Jingle Bells." After the show we went out for a late dinner and the girls danced some more in the middle of the restaurant to the great amusement of the Friday night customers. There are busy weeks ahead of us as the final days of 2005 wind down. Two weeks and three days until the winter solstice and longer days begin to set in. Four weeks until the first day of 2006 is upon us. Maxim, of course, can't wait until Christmas. Which, for her, will be the best ever.

And then it snowed. We thought it might, and so piled the toys back in the sandbox before we headed out the door for the holiday. This morning we tried to take Maxim and Noah sledding at the golf course on the other side of town, but Noah would not put on his snow pants or even a winter jacket. He stood in the hallway and screamed. Marcela took Maxim herself, two novice sledders on a pretty steep hill. They said the sled went faster than they expected, but they really enjoyed it. While they were gone, Noah and I played with blocks and with his trains and watched his "Here Come the ABCs" DVD and then he complained some more for a while. He really wasn't feeling well. When Marcela and Maxim got home, Catherine came over made books with Maxim and then snow forts. Marcela and Maxim made the first snowman of the season, this little fellow who survived the afternoon, but had lost his head by morning (Friday night in Maynard, you never know what's going to happen). We saw the squirrel that lives in the big spruce tree in back carrying mouthfuls of dried leaves to insulate his home better. Winter has really set in. The snow melts at the edges and will go away in another day or two, but there is more to follow, I think. This year Maxim seems ready for snow play. Noah may need some more practice. He did willingly put on his winter jacket later when he realized he would otherwise miss a trip in the car. We'll see how he responds to a sled ride. Today Maxim went to her friend Gwen's house. Noah enjoyed some alone time with Mommy and Daddy. We make chili and desserts that have to be cooked in the oven. Warming the house with the production of tasty treats and delicious dinners. Maxim makes piles of snow in an attempt to recreate a snow fort we made last year in the corner of the yard. Maybe not today, but it should be possible before the year turns.

The lawn toys were put away and the toys were taken out again. The fall keeps sending us pleasant days and we keep finding ways to enjoy them. On Saturday we visited our newest cousin, Erik William Beane, a handsome plug of boy who came into the world less than two weeks ago. He is being well cared for by his father Zachary and his mother Shanna. Maxim and Noah thought he was terrific and cannot wait to see him again. Marcela and I thought he was pretty special too. It has been along time since we held a brand new baby. It is difficult not hold another and daydream... Erik is the most recent in a long line of cousins, he's number 11 and counting. The drive to Portland and back in one day was ok for the grown-up (mostly) but a bit too much for the kids, who seem to have forgotten how to go on car trips. "How much longer, Daddy? Are we almost there." Maxim would ask just about every three minutes. Eventually, we got there and we returned without too much trouble. Sunday, our friends Ken and Coralie came to visit with their son Nico. They just learned that they have been placed with a baby to adopt. They will be going to Russia in early December to meet their new baby and then returning to wait an agonizing three months before they can bring her home. Coralie loves to read to the kids and they love to sit and listen. While we were all outside (the day was fantastic) I finished painting the final details on the house. The bottom part of the front porch, its runners and the crossed-slat covering needed small brush work. I also discovered that some of the door frame had not gotten even a first coat. I painted it all, with some help from Nico, and have now finished the house completely for the season. In the evening Ken used our web connection to search for affordable hotels in Moscow and Paris for their trip to meet the baby. We made fresh pizza dough and had cheese, blue cheese, wild mushroom and pepperoni pizza for dinner. Every one ate heartily before calling it a night. Monday, back to work again. Soon the snow will be upon us. Four more weeks until winter solstice and the light and longer days creep back. We are happy this holiday season. Surrounded by love.

The ladder has finally found its way home. It has been unusually warm this week. As a result, the kids get to play outside, and we even got so inspired that we stained the cross-beams on the inside of the fence. The wood had become exposed after last winter and was graying. We don't have enough stain or enough time to do the whole thing this fall (unless there is another weekend like this past) so Marcela suggested the conservationist approach of treating the areas that are in most need. Maxim followed me around the yard as I painted. "Can I paint too, Daddy?" I told her she couldn't since the stain was oil-based and hard to clean up. "Look at what I can do," she said climbing the wrong way up the slide. "Look, Daddy." I would finish a brush full and turn around. "Wow!" I'd exclaim. "Are you gonna paint the whole thing?" She'd ask. The fence looks less intimidating than the house, but it is actually more square footage. Yesterday, Maxim's best friend Gwen came over after their gymnastics class (they have the class together) and they played all afternoon. Marcela said they slept together with Noah in our big bed at nap time. Later in the afternoon Marcela gave them our plain clay pots and some paint and each of them painted a pot. Gwen got to take hers home, along with the aloe plant inside it. This afternoon as the rains drizzled down and warm moist air blew through the region (it was 62 degrees at mid-afternoon!), the kids watched a movie about a giant peach, part claymation by Tim Burton. "Are you gonna stay for the scary part?" Noah asks. "I don't like the scary part." I did, printing some emails and web pages while I was up there. Always something to read. Always something to write. The kids fell fast asleep without argument, as a flood of schoolchildren made their way home past my door.

The ladder has got to go back to our friend Dan, but for the moment it sits in the back yard. Next spring we will have to purchase one of these for ourselves. There is gutter work and roof work to do. It was a cold week compared to those that came before. There was frost three nights. But many of the days were sunny like this one and so the kids have played outside at mid-day. Marcela raked the piles of leaves and, shortly after this picture was taken, I put them in a lawn bag. I would like to compost them. We can use the soil. For the fall and winter we switched the kitchen table back to the end-against-the-wall set up. It leaves more room in the kitchen for the kids to play. Yesterday Maxim did not want to go to her dance class when we got there in the morning. "I don't like to dance the whole time," she said. The school is getting the girls ready for the Christmas show and they practice a lot. "That's what dancers have to do," I told her. "Sometimes they don't feel very much like dancing, but they go and practice anyway. That's how they get good." She thought about it for a minute or two and then said, "Ok, Daddy, I'll go this time." I told her I was proud of her. Noah and I went to the coffee shop while she danced. He walked along the front of the baked goods display and said, "I want this and this and this and this and this." I bought him a banana muffin and me a bagel with cream cheese. He ate the bagel, I ate the muffin. We are facing a small pet crisis these days. Bones somehow got fleas and before we realized it, he had slept in our bed and Maxim's bed and Noah's bed and on the couch and on just about every carpet in the house. We treated him a month ago and the buggers seem to have jumped ship and found their way to Noah and Marcela. About a week ago, they found their way back to Bones. For now, Bones is banned to the first floor, we vacuum every day, and wash sheets and pillows all the time (I even vacuum Bones some times). When we go away for Thanksgiving, we will treat the carpets with borax. Poor Bones. He's 17 and barely has the energy to scratch. The cut light of November is here and the kids cannot wait for snow.

It was a busy October for all of us. It will be a busy November too. The sun came out a few times during the past couple of weeks, although it was mostly rainy. Noah, Maxim, and Catherine are playing school in the backyard in this photograph. But the kids have begun shifting their play inside. We have removed most of the summer stuff from the back yard and put it into storage. Once the leaves fall from the saplings in the yard, I will cover them with plastic for the winter. We have stopped cutting the grass, and are about half done removing the dead growth from this past season. Our sunflower stalks still stand in front, as does one of our tomato plants. The big excitement came last Sunday when we inherited a new piano from Vic Lalli! We dead-lifted it into a small pickup truck and drove it over. It needs some aesthetic work but it sounds great. Noah likes to walk his fingers up the notes. He calls the low notes the "the scary part." "Don't play the scary part," he says when I play bass notes. Maxim is trying to pick out "Twinkle, Twinkle." I'm pretty excited, too. It meant shifting around the living room a little bit. The piano goes where the couch used to be, the couch goes under the north window, the stereo goes to the place where the bookshelf was, and the bookshelf was moved out into the hallway. Everything rotated 45 degrees. But, inexplicably, it has made the room feel bigger and more welcoming. For Halloween, downtown Maynard closes the main street and all the shops participate in a trick-or-treat bonanza. Maxim dressed as Tinkerbell, but would not wear the sweater under the costume. Noah was a clown. Marcela and I wished we had had more time to get dressed up ourselves. Hundreds of people filled the downtown. It was great fun. But because of the holiday, there has been far too much candy in our house the past two weeks. Far too many tummy aches, and far too much crying about wanting more candy. It was easier last year when we spent Halloween in Buenos Aires. Instead of candy, we had cake for Nacha's birthday. (It is spring there, so you can imagine a seasonal holiday like Halloween wouldn't make sense.) A week ago last Friday, as if to remind us that summer was really and truly behind us, it snowed. Not a lot and nothing really stuck, but down it came in great sloppy flakes that crashed to the ground in icy kerplunks. It shaded our grass a little bit white for a few hours. Maxim wanted us to put some in a bowl with maple syrup. "I love snow," she said. "I love to eat it with maple syrup. Can you get me some, Daddy?" "It's not light enough to eat," I told her to her deep disappointment. The trees on summer hill are finally turning too. They are mostly oaks, so they come along later in the season. The fall is rolling through with its last display of colors. No killing frost yet, but we are pretty sure it will be upon us before the next full moon. Our rhythms change, we close windows and replace screens, and put on more clothes, and scramble around to make the most of the shortened days and impediments to movement.

Fall has come and the white ash next door has dropped its leaves, many of them making their way to our back yard. This photo is actually a week old. After I took it it continued to rain and the children had to find things to do inside. This wasn't a problem because Marcela had picked up tickets to the Children's Museum in Boston and we all rode into the city together. I taught my class and the kids played around the museum. There was sand to be molded and trucks to be driven around and groceries to be purchased and giant bubbles to be blown and so on and so forth for almost three hours. We all met back at the Alewife station of the Red Line and drove home together along route 2 and 62. The rains continued. On Friday I went to Maxim's pre-school class at the Community School and taught the pre-schoolers some science concepts through story and song. One of the stories I told began, "Once upon a time in the great kingdom of Maynardia there was a very spoiled little princess..." "Hey!" Maxim shouted. I usually tell the story I told with Maxim as the main character, "Not you, honey," I assured her. It kept raining, water gathered in small but growing puddles in our basement. Bones couldn't get to his litter box. On Saturday I drove to Sandwich for a workshop. It poured. Marcela took the kids under umbrella through the rain downtown to Diana's Dance Zone. Maxim is learning dance steps for the Christmas show they will do at the Middle School auditorium. She likes to practice. Noah is fascinated with trains. He likes us to wait in South Acton for Marcela's train to leave on the mornings that we drop her off. He holds his hand out the window and waves. "Bye train!" He shouts, "Bye train!" He usually gets a wave from one of the conductors. He always asks if we are going to the train when we get in the car. He has a small plastic train set that he plays with in the living room and a conductor's hat that he got from his Grammy. Saturday afternoon, it poured some more. At the end of the day, just as the sun was going down, the clouds broke at the western horizon. Sun light is like a breath of pure oxygen after ten days of cloud-diffused light. And then, just as quickly, the sun set and the winds came. 45-50 MPH winds all day Sunday. The leaves that had turned by then were all blown from their trees. Sunday night Marcela and I dropped Maxim and Noah at Griffin's house with his parents John and Lisa (bless their hearts) and went out for a Mother's Day (Argentina) dinner. Marcela is a wonderful mother to our children, and we celebrated that fact and talked about the kids and laughed at the joy they bring us every day. We have the mother to thank. Gracias a la mama mas mejor, gracias Marcela, por todo. Te amamos mucho mucho!