“A little green food coloring will be fine; the monster looks amazing!” — I wasn’t trying to belittle Mykala’s awesome work, but now that I type it out, I bet it seemed that way.
Ever inventive and vigilant, Mykala responded: “I didn’t color it with food coloring, though.”
Ess picked out these sunglasses from her diaper bag, and decided it was time to start motoring around. My favorite 7-second video I’ve ever made.
This morning I watched big big snowflakes fall down outside my office window, then float up when they came close to the building, then fall down again. I walked the skyways to the bank and stood over South 8th Street, watching the same thing, transfixed. I wasn’t fixated on avoiding any thoughts or solving any problems. I had no breakthroughs about my life. But I thought I wouldn’t mind sharing peace like this with my daughter.
Ess likes to watch a movie called Curious George Swings into Spring, but she asks for it by saying something like “watch… maow… ping… and balloons UP and UP” or some other kind of variation on her summary of the plot. To translate: her stuffed monkey’s name is Marge, nicknamed Mow, so monkeys get called Mows; there are hot air balloons in the movie in many shapes, and sometimes we have only the barest hint of a guess which movie she’s referring to. There’s also ‘Crinkas Pooh’ (Christmas Pooh), ‘Pump pump Mow’ (Curious George: A Halloween Boo Fest), and ‘Ringinal Pooh’ (The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, which we sometimes call Original Pooh).
“Help, help, Dada Owl! Help!”
Ess uses precisely the same tone of voice when peril is imagined or real. It is a perfect mimc of the higher-register you would use if you were reading a book to a two-year-old and conveying that someone is in trouble, but ultimately will be just fine. You know, low-budget playacting. Also:
Ess-to-English translator, October, 2016 edition:
pump-pump — pumpkin
keem — diaper cream
carefiff — carrot
hot-dong — carefiff dogs made by Mykala by marinating carrots, served on a bun; (they are DELICIOUS)
Nobody wanted to go to the mall yesterday (“No, tay home” said Ess), but it was one of those necessarily unpleasant trips you make to get ready to go to a wedding (this Friday, Mykala’s very good friend from Forest Lake, Jenni Kling, gets married). Anyway, whenever we’d walk into any store, Ess would immediately ask to leave to walk around one of the Mall of America’s many, gigantic concourses. Said she wanted to “see-a people.” But then, she became entranced by the escalators, a word she can kind of pronounce, such that you can understand her if you know what you’re listening for. Ess stood on the stairs for one ride, and was utterly hooked.
Mykala and I have a steadily-growing list of movies we would like to watch, but there are so many other things we’d rather do (usually, rather read) once Ess goes to bed that we watch very few movies. At this rate, I expect to miss most excellent new films and all of the new mediocre ones for years to come, because soon Ess will want to watch with us. We are prepared and excited for that.
Saturday night, Mykala and I watched the Imitation Game, which meant we were up way past our usual 11pm bedtime. Lying down to sleep afterwards, perhaps due to my brain out of practice at inhabiting the narrative structure of a life not my own, I found myself shocked to realize with crystal-clear certainty that my last bike ride with Ess on the handlebars would happen, and fairly soon. Hot tears sprang to my eyes and as I wiped them away in the dark, I told Mykala what I was thinking. Sharing it seemed to somehow make it worse, give it more power.
I finished prepping a crown for a patient of mine, one who always remembers I have a young daughter and asks how she is doing; then they surprised me: gave me a little stuffed bear wearing a t-shirt from where they work. How nice! Ess likes this little bear.
Ess showing her potholders to Mykala.
A little visit to the park before family night at Dave and Sandy’s.
“Little bit of eeeehhhhh and a little bit of eeeeehh.”
↓ More