Happy July 2nd!

This is the day that Americans of all races and ages come together to celebrate the birth of a great big baby. It was on this day in 2005 that I came on the scene and the world -- at least for some -- has never been the same since. Picnics, parades and fireworks are the traditional way to celebrate and this year was a particularly big milestone: I finally hit the double digits, Roman Numerically speaking. The big eye-eye.


People celebrate the occasion in different ways. For example, here in Dakar we chose to commemorate the day with homemade cupcakes for my colleagues in the Mommy and Me play group. There were bubbles, games, and gifts. We also had balloons, but I think this was the last year for them because balloons are the paranoid schizophrenics of the toy world. They act all bucolic and floaty one minute and then BANG!!! blow up in your face the next.

Some observers will tell you that the ado this time of year is more for the 4th of July, American Independence Day. To these hair-splitters I say the distinction is negligible and in fact, the two days have really begun to coalesce into one great celebration of all good things born. Same thing happened to President's Day. If you doubt my claims, then perhaps you can explain to me why our nation's First Lady flew all the way to Senegal just to celebrate with me?

It was a thrill to meet Laura Bush even though my protocol office had requested top Democratic leadership. But not wanting to miss a photo-op with an adorable baby in the run-up to elections, the White House nixed the request and sent Mrs. Bush instead. I cannot complain, though. She was charming and gracious and actually quite human for a Republican.

I hope you all enjoyed your 2nd as much as I did! Until next time, peace to all.

Omi, Baby Adventure Traveler