Stuff from May, 2016
This is the archive of tumbledry happenings that occurred on May, 2016.
At a Stoplight
This is the archive of tumbledry happenings that occurred on May, 2016.
Breakfast at Oasis Café this morning, the first time we have ever been there, and what looks like the beginning of a fine tradition. I’m always so proud when Ess colors with her crayons, eats our food, and enjoys herself when we eat out. I look ahead to summer vacations and little weekend jaunts during the school year with great excitement. I love to get a glimpse of the world through her eyes, to see the world again through that lens.
“Crouching Tigga, Hidden Deek: A Memoir of My First Two Years of Life”
by Esmé Micek
A Tall Tree’s Tale; the beginning and end of Encino California’s 1,000 year-old oak.
Heartsick, I myself took nothing more than a single, small leaf that I still have. It was enough.
“Mahn-ee Dada. Mahn-ee!” Ess says as she grabs my finger and pulls. That’s how she says “come on over here.” How could you say no?
Mother’s Day: today, the last thing Ess did before we took her upstairs for bed was carefully remove each Winnie the Pooh character from her wooden puzzle and tuck them in under the couch pillow. Pooh, Piglet, Kanga, Roo, Tigger, Rabbit, Owl.
They’re re-roofing the house today. Ess was transfixed by the trucks coming and going and cranes lifting. She stood at the window and watched, the stillest I’ve seen her be while awake and healthy. “Beep beep” went the truck, “bach-up, bach-up” went Ess, shuffling backwards away from the window.
BAH buh dee means back and forth.
“Can you hold this up, Essie?”
I love this little outfit for Ess.
Ess calls the book The Best Nest “not” because it is not the best nest. Mykala figured that one out.
Mykala found ladybug-shaped rocks and painted them red. Here, Esmé is painting the black spots on them. They were Mother’s Day presents.
Ess doesn’t have her T sounds yet, so when she says “pink water bottle” it comes out “pink wahgle boggle.” She loves that water bottle, so we get to hear this a lot.
Ess spends her last ten minutes with us precisely the same every night, and the last thing I get to do is carry her to her room, lie her down in her crib, and say “I love you. Goodnight.” Most times she waves and says “buh bye” to mama on her way to her room, sometimes she’s a little weepy, sometimes she’s so tired I hold her head up with my shoulder as I carry her. But the other night, we had changed one little thing to make way for the roofers: we removed a glass-covered picture from the wall so it wouldn’t break during roofing. When I put Ess down, she immediately said “moon moon” and pointed to the empty spot on the wall. Her attention to detail is remarkable. I have no idea if all toddlers are like this, but Ess likes things to happen a certain way and lets us know. I scampered to the desk in the hall, got her moon picture, and hung it back up.
Ever since seeing (and maybe slightly before this) hours-old Canadian geese goslings on a walk, Ess has associated walking with bird watching. She calls all birds “ducks” which we’re working on, but in the meantime, there’s no surer way to settle her down than to talk about a walk in her near future, and seeing ducks. When we’re walking out to the pond, there’s a certain point, about a quarter mile away, that Ess gets really excited anticipating ducks. The other day she goes DUCKS! YAHHHH-DUCKS while sticking her little fists straight out from herself in rigid-body excitement. On the way home, we always make sure to stop and see a stone lawn-decoration duck family Ess calls the tone ducks.
Eating at my birthday picnic. I’ll be 31 tomorrow. Mykala made delicious sandwiches with fixins from the Herbivorous Butcher. An utterly perfect day: in the 80s, sunny, not too much wind.
We were out on a family bike ride, and I was explaining to Ess that when the three of us are together, no matter where that is, that is home. Ess listened closely, and now whenever she sees the bikes in the garage, she says “home.” I didn’t mean to teach her the wrong word for going on a bike ride, but it is too sweet for me to correct.
“Dohn-dut.”
“Yep, and what’s that on top of it?”
“PINCKLE!”