We just got back from 8 days in Massachusetts. Some of the highlights:

Isabel and Mommy check out the waves.

Isabel, sunning herself.

Isabel figures out why they call it Rockport.

Bobby with Grammy.

Bobby with Grumpy.

Isabel despairs of ever mastering the piano.

Bobby and Mommy decide to sleep in.

Isabel plays with some other kids at the Down Syndrome Association of Northern Virginia annual picnic.

Because Irish citizenship law is pretty relaxed, I've had an Irish passport since my early 20's. It took some detective work to get all the documents I needed, but once I had them and plunked down a not inconsiderable fee, I was entitled to a nice maroon passport that allows me to freely live and work in Europe, or at least use the quick line at Schiphol passport control.

About two years ago, I submitted an application to have Isabel recognized as Irish by virtue of her birth to an Irish citizen abroad. This was a lot easier, since I already had the documents, but still hasslesome. Your identity has to be attested to by a lawyer, clergyman, magistrate, bank manager or school principal. Photos, marriage certificates, birth certificates, passports, drivers' licenses, and gas and electric bills all must be provided. And then you wait.

About six months after I made the application in person at the Embassy, it came back to me in the mail with a note saying that the application was rejected and I would have to do it all over again, because I signed the photos with a different date than the lawyer had. This was Kafkaesque and disheartening, so I procrastinated, and once we knew Bobby was coming, I figured I'd do both of them at once.

This week I finally got around to calling the Embassy and asking them to send the forms again. They came on Wednesday. I filled them out and started to get the other documentation together. Today I got another envelope from the Embassy, this time by certified mail.

With Isabel's citizenship documents in it.

?!

As an aside, here are the world's cutest passport photos, one of Isabel at five months and one of Bobby at six, both from their respective applications. I warn you, though, that they haven't been signed by a bank manager:

I hadn't realized how much alike they looked until now!

After the examination, Dr. Isabel asked the patient, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Bobby plays in his crib.

This morning as I was getting ready to go to work, Isabel peppered me with questions about where I was going. What was my work called? What would I see there? "I'm going to see [my boss] Betsy and [my coworker] Sun," I told her, using names of some people she knew. I said goodbye to her and asked her to be good for her mother.

"Bye-bye, Daddy," she told me, "be good for Betsy."

Julie reports that yesterday at the doctor’s office, Isabel pointed to a picture in a magazine and said, “that looks like Daddy.” It was a picture of Tom Cruise. Even a two year-old can see the similarities.

Bobby likes the swing. He's also reported to be a fan of the slide.