We spent the week up in the mountains with Dave's family. We skied a little, ate a lot, and yammered a lot. It's an interesting thing traveling with two boys who are so different. Jake is my traveler, ready to roll and jump into everything. Atti, on the other hand, is a true homebody and becomes filled with aggeda (sp?) within 1 hour of being away from the familiar.

For those of you who knew my great grandma (and wasn't she a damn stitch?) he's sorta the embodiment of her when we travel. He walks around touching everything, checking to see if it's clean, occasionally shaking his head and clucking his tongue. He looks things over and says "Mama, who's chair is THAT? Me no sit in yucky chair!". It's somewhat amusing that my little football fanatic is also an eighty year old Jewish woman on the inside. This morning he woke up coughing cause of the dry air and said "Me sick." When "Me sick" failed to garner the desired response he followed it up with "Me sooooooo sick." Still nothing. Finally he threw his hands in the air and came in the other room (where we had all been listening via baby monitor to his plight) laid himself down at my feet and said "Me sick."

Grandma lives on!