Noah Cardiel Holt | My life according to other people

This year, for the first time, it was Christmas in Brooklyn. Luckily my parents and Aunt Mindy were able to make it down to spend it with us.

Noah was excited.

They came bearing gifts.

Our tree struggled to cover them all.

At the very same time, one of Noah’s teeth decided it wanted out of his face.

Kate and Noah wanted (reluctantly) to try the ole’ string on the doorknob trick.

Reluctantly.

Many knots tried.

Finally Noah asked me to just pull it out.

Crazy face.

A quick story before bed. Excited to see what both Santa and the Tooth Fairy would bring.

Like a winter sun struggling to climb into the sky, young Noah and I struggle to get dressed so we can get him to school on time.

Later that night we had a conference with his teacher about how he’s doing, and what we can work on with him.

As we walked home Noah and I played “tag”. At one point while we were running around Noah hid behind Kate and when he did he put his two front teeth (which were loose) on her bag. When he moved, his two front teeth came out. There was a little shock after he quickly picked the teeth up…

But he was tough.

We got him some water.

He took a minute to get used to his new mouth.

The next morning at school he was king of the yard.

At the end of July, Honey, our downstairs neighbor, and sometime babysitter, was offered a job at the Boston Children’s Hospital. It’s a great opportunity for her, but meant she would be moving… We tried to milk our time together with dinner, and constant door knockings.

She had one last gift for Noah before she left, and was a good one…

It was all of the animals she would bring up to play with Noah’s animal collection. Amazing.

On Honey’s moving day, Noah’s face lost something too.

Guy (Honey’s brother) came from Texas to help. That’s love.

We’ll miss having you a floor away Honey!

Last week Victoria graduated high school! We went up to the Bronx this weekend to have lunch with her and celebrate.

Bronx tour with Opa for the boys.

Photobombed.

The end of productive Saturday.