I’m not particularly invested in teaching Lucy to act “ladylike.” I think it’s much more important for her to learn to act “kind” and “polite” and “respectful.” But on a warm evening walk, she pulls a move like this…and I have to bite back my “little girls don’t sit like that!” words. What, Ma? It’s hot. Don’t want my legs to stick together.
When Lucy was born, she looked like me. The midwife traced her tiny newborn brow with her forefinger and said, “Yeah, I think she looks like you. Your eyes, nose, brow…” When she smiled her first smile, there was no doubt she was MY KID. Poor Nate couldn’t find any resemblance to himself. These days, as Lucy starts to make more expressions, and as her face becomes more a kid face and less a baby face, she favors her daddy more and more.
This is a good thing. After all, Daddy is pretty much Lucy’s fav these days. She asks about him all day long, from the moment she gets up (pointing, from her changing table, towards our bedroom: “Daddy?”), through every meal (pointing at the door: “Daddy?”), all day long until Nate calls to let us know he’s headed home from work. She knows when the phone rings between 5 and 5:30 pm that it’s Daddy coming home!
You couldn’t ask for a bester set of buds than Lucy and her Daddy.
When wakeup calls are at 5:03 am,
and someone small doesn’t understand that 5:03 am wakeups mean a SEVEN-HOUR stretch until afternoon naptime,
sometimes, all you can do, short of grumbling back at the toddler (though, trust me, that doesn’t work, and never will), is bake and eat chocolate chip cookies.
I use America’s Test Kitchen’s Thick and Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies recipe. I’ll NEVER need another one, never not ever. (It alone is probably worth subscribing to their site, or buying the America’s Test Kitchen Family Baking book.) I eat one, freeze the rest, and then eat the rest of them all straight out of the freezer. The only acceptable chip is Ghirardelli 60%. Please, do yourself, your spouse, and your toddler a big favor and eat yourself a batch today.
Nate isn’t much for making a big deal out of…ANYTHING. Father’s Day is pretty much a bother for him. I could make a big deal out of any made-up ridiculous holiday, i.e., “the sixth anniversary of the night you came to my dorm room because you forgot your mug and I had it in my purse and I thought OMG you might like me.” Not Nate. Nope. So, I’ve learned to ask him what he’d like to do to celebrate his occasions. Often the answer is, “Pie.” More often, the answer is “Nothing.”
For Father’s Day 2012, the answer was, “Hiking.” We bought a Trustees of the Reservations sticker this year, and have been exploring the reservations near us. Today we checked out Old Town Hill in Newbury, and it was amazing. Didn’t hurt that the temperature was about 60 degrees while we hiked. Plenty of woods, plenty of low land marshy flats, and a view of the ocean, too. Happy Father’s Day to my wonderful husband who always carries the baby backpack. (And who doesn’t mind when the baby pokes at the back of his head during the hike.)
is that now she can wear dresses gracefully. No more looking ridiculous. No more anger or crab-crawling when she can’t get around because of her cursed skirt.
Or is it that she’s finally developing a sense of humor? You’ve never seen a kid who loves Chicken Butt like she loves Chicken Butt. Dogs? Swings? HILARIOUS. And the facial expressions that are coming with her budding personality crack me up.
In all seriousness, my number one favorite thing about my new toddler is that she is so independent, all day long, but when she feels like she needs some love, or has some to give, she simply swings by me on her path through the apartment (gotta do those laps), wraps her little skinny arms around my legs, and buries her face in my knees. Baby hugs! The best. Of course, I swoop down and grab her and probably hug her too hard, and kiss and smell that little place on the back of her neck that smells like soap and, because it’s summer, sunscreen, and spicy-warm baby smell.
Says Nate, “Well, you CAN’T eat her.” Oh, yeah? 🙂
After running all over town all week long, Lucy and I (well, especially I) are glad to spend a Friday at home.
There are crappy flash-auto indoor shots in our apartment’s low morning light. OR, *ahem*, toddling around with blocks making weird eyebrow-raising faces? This eyebrow thing is Lucy’s new aren’t-I-just-ridiculous-with-cuteness look. She loves to stand in front of the mirror and do it. Funny because she doesn’t really have eyebrows, amirite?
There are bowls of yeasty bubbly pizza dough wonderfulness. You don’t think that photo is appetizing? No? I think to love this stuff you gotta smell it all in its warm boozy glory. It’s Jim Lahey’s no-knead pizza dough, and it is for serious pizza lovers, and for winners. We don’t have many family traditions but Pizza Friday is serious and sacred, and it is brought to you by Jim Lahey and his miraculous pizza dough. Thank you.
And dining room tables COVERED in quilt mess. I’m making slow progress on the She Only Smiles quilt. It’ll be a signature quilt, and I whipped out the name blocks in about 30 minutes while Lucy slept too long the other afternoon. I really need this thing to turn out nice, and I’m having minor-to-moderate doubts. We’ll see. Back to my quilt pile before Lucy gets up for her second outdoor jaunt of our lazy Friday!
Girl, you better work.
Because it’s Tuesday-impromptu-beach-day. Where else can you live that you can do the park in the morning, the beach in the afternoon, and it’s not 107 degrees and a million bazillion people? Lucy loves the beach. She loves the (frigid, oh my gosh) water, she loves the waves, she loves the sand. She also loves to people-watch and seagull-chase. She’d stay all day. Or, until she gets so tired and hungry that she ends up face-down on the beach blanket tantruming, NOT that we know anything about tantrums.
When he looked at the pictures, Nate said, “Were you the only people there?” Pretty much, yes. There were enough people that we didn’t feel weird. But we had a plenty big patch of sand and shore all to ourselves. This beach sticker is going to be the best $60 we ever. spent. No lie.
Has it been a week already?
We’ve been away down South at a wedding. Lucy had her first flower girl gig, and she also had a blast walking laps around and around the wedding venue in her little white linen pants. Mostly she was a blur.
As has been this week, friends. Life didn’t stop for us to leave, and we arrived home to a flurry of everyday life, a pile of laundry (those little white linen pants got awful dirty), and a spate of minor disasters that has left us a little drained. Suffice it to say, I’m glad we’re all safe and alive and fairly healthy.
I’ve been away from both books and sewing machine, and my encounters with the kitchen have been limited to cheese toast, macaroni, zucchini (that kid), and the cake I baked for book club and then dumped on the counter.
I have, however, managed to get this small lovely finished.
Oh, but it looks good in my chair. Sad. Because it’s not staying there. I’m shipping it off to a friend in Pennsylvania whose birthday is today. And that’s what friendship is about: understanding when those who love you send late gifts because of ridiculous flat tire-ER visit-flower girl-airplane flying weeks. (And it’s also about not keeping gifts you made just because they are just real cute in your own house, drat.)
Some photos from our Memorial Day, which was pretty low-key. We had one of Nathan’s work friends over for hot dogs, cowboy beans, banana pudding ice cream pie, and beer, and watched the Sox on TV. Lucy has a dress for any and every occasion, though, so we set up the tripod and made a family picture. No idea where she got those eyes.