I love love love taking pictures, and of course Camille is a favorite subject. Most of the time she’s cooperative, but occasionally the mama paparazzi is just too much.
Had to share a couple of recent shots that made me laugh. We were at a birthday party at Oatland Island a few weeks ago, and Camille and buddy Lola were hanging out by the turkeys. I had been snapping away with my camera, and then said, “Hey girls! How about you turn around and give me a smile?”
Apparently they’d had enough of this shutterbug, because this is what I got.
I’m also notorious for waiting until the worst moment to get a group photo when we’re traveling and visiting friends. I wait until it’s time to leave. I wait until they’re exhausted from staying up too late and getting up too early and totally bummed that the visit has come to an end.
Here’s a perfect example from our recent trip to see Nia and Nate. Say cheese?
They may not be my best shots, but they do capture some moments, don’t they?
Hello sweet bear and Happy 51 months! Plus a few days. This letter is a bit late, but for a good cause. I’ve been helping with the book fair at your school these past couple of weeks, and while it has been fun, it hasn’t left much extra time for anything else. I’ve enjoyed getting to know your teachers and some of the other parents, but by far my favorite book fair experience was visiting your room dressed as Clifford the Big Red Dog.
The costume was sent to the school to help with book fair promotions. You had no idea I was inside that costume, and I enjoyed the quick glimpse into your pre-k world. All your classmates took turns giving Clifford hugs, and when it was your turn I gave you an extra big squeeze. I was rewarded with the sound of a kiss on my shoulder, and tales that afternoon about how Clifford came to your classroom and how exciting it was.
We’ve also been kept busy over the last month with travel, as usual. We took not one, but two trips to the Athens area. During one of the trips we had a chance to walk around downtown a bit, and we had to get a picture of you on top of the bulldog statue near the arch. We photographed you at the same spot on your first Athens trip when you were 4 months old.
Now look how big you are!
You are so grown up that I’m beginning to wonder if we’re on the fringe of a boy crazy phase. You’ve always had good friends who are boys, but lately you seem even more interested in boys than before, and certainly more interested in boys than in your girl friends. Your best friend at school is still Billy, and outside of school you love to spend time with Will, Sam and Fletcher. I got a few bits of photographic evidence over the last month.
I have wondered many times if this boy-craziness is all in my head. Maybe you act this way with your girl friends too, it just doesn’t register as significant because they’re girls. I certainly don’t want to push you into this phase of your childhood prematurely. But I did have to laugh during a recent picnic when you ran over to your Daddy and me, and breathlessly announced, “Sam just kissed me!”
“Ewwwww!” your Daddy said. “Was it gross?”
“No.” you said. “It was PERFECT.”
Oh dear.
But there is no doubt in my mind that your favorite boy on this Earth is your Daddy. Not only is he loving, patient and kind, he also finds so many fun ways to bond with you. You’ve always enjoyed looking at and playing with his old Super Friends toys, and last month he decided you were old enough to watch the 1970s Super Friends cartoons. These were a favorite of his when he was a child, and they’ve quickly become a favorite of yours too. When he brought an old Hall of Justice playset down from the attic, it was like Christmas morning (for you both!).
You two also bond over music. You both like to race upstairs just before bath time and spend a few minutes “rocking out” in his guitar room. You like for him to play the guitar fast and loud. Sometimes you sing in the microphone, sometimes you dance, but most often you jump on the bed and play a fierce air guitar.
Because you really seemed to enjoy that type of music, your Daddy wanted to be sure you knew that girls could play guitar too, and not just kumbayah. He introduced you to the indie rock duo Tegan & Sara, and you are hooked. We had no idea how much you’d love “the girls playing guitars” as you sometimes call them. You didn’t want to just hear one song, you wanted to hear the whole album and have now memorized most of it. Thankfully there aren’t too many objectionable phrases, although some are full of an angst that seems comical coming from a four year old. I can’t help but grin every time you sing, “I deserve this anguish on my house,” and such. Thankfully you seem much more interested in playing air guitar along with the songs than asking what anguish means.
While we don’t hear you talk about anguish in daily conversation, your vocabulary has continued to grow and grow. It also includes some words that aren’t exactly right, but they’re so cute when you say them I just can’t bring myself to correct you. I wanted to remember a few:
Macaronian – your abbreviation for macaroni and cheese. Instead of shortening it to “macaroni,” you keep the “and,” which makes it sound like “macaronian.” As in, “Tonight I would like to have macaronian.”
Air conditioner – what you put in your hair after shampooing to help get out the tangles.
Creditor – your word for a predator, as in, “the stegosaurus is running away from that mean creditor!”
Falcony – instead of balcony, all the parents at gymnastics sit in the falcony. Like birds of prey.
We had our annual family photos done last month, and as always we tried to pick a place that seems unique to Sav
annah. This year we chose Riverstreet, with a backdrop of cobblestone streets and weathered brick buildings.
You were a trooper, but even a trooper gets tired of all that standing around and smiling. Thankfully, we’d made the wise decision to begin and end our session at a candy store. We let you pick out a treat (cotton candy) and said if you were cooperative, you could have it at the end of the shoot. There were a few times when you were sure you couldn’t smile one more time, but then I’d say, “Show me that cotton candy smile!” and sure enough, you were grinning again.
I cherish these photos as a way to document how we change and grow as a family each year – always a little older and a little different, but always full of love. Thank you for every smile, my love (even the cotton candy ones).
Camille’s teacher sent home a flyer last week requesting goodies for an end-of-month pumpkin party, and one of the wish list items was pumpkin cookies. A quick search of a favorite website uncovered a recipe for mini pumpkin whoopie pies. Pumpkin! With icing! Sign me up.
But I wanted to test the recipe ahead of time to be sure it was a keeper. This morning, with Alva’s help, I put together the cookie batter and loaded it into a ziploc-turned-pastry-bag. We hoped the pastry bag would help us have uniform cookie sizes for nice, symmetrical sandwiches.
Well, let’s just say the initial result was completely unappetizing. Here’s what the cookie sheet looked like before it went into the oven.
Whoopie pies? More like poopy pies.
Thankfully, the fully-baked cookie looked like an actual cookie, with a nice spongy texture and a mild but good flavor. We whipped up the filling, and although Camille was too busy playing to help me cook, she took a break to help me “clean” the beaters.
The finished whoopie pies were really good and I’m looking forward to making them for the pumpkin party.
Now if only I could get the earlier image of the poo-poo platter out of my head.
Somehow, in the humid and heated haze of September, I forgot how glorious October in Savannah can be. Skies of an impossible blue. Cardigan cool mornings that warm into short-sleeved afternoons.
This time of year it seems the city comes back to life too. After fleeing to the beach or the air conditioning all summer long, people suddenly pack the parks and playgrounds and every weekend brings another festival.
Last Saturday, the Hensleys and friend Fletcher joined us for a boat ride up the Savannah River to Riverstreet for Oktoberfest. The day was clear and bright, but the morning felt downright cold on the water. The kids huddled for warmth and ducked to stay out of the wind.
But by mid-afternoon, after bounce houses and corn dogs and ice cream and such, the air had warmed and our return boat trip was perfect.
Sunday we joined nearly every man, woman and child in this city and staked a spot in Forsyth Park for Picnic in the Park. The sun kept us warm but the breeze kept us comfortable as music floated over the crowd of 20,000. And how wonderful to be here with a child who is four, a child who doesn’t wander off but enjoys hanging out on the picnic blanket eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And playing air guitar with her buddy Sam, of course.
October, it’s good to have you back.
A month ago Lee and I decided to give public transportation a try. Rather than paying for two expensive parking spots downtown, we would pay for just one. We’d ride to work together every day, I’d use the car to get Camille from school in the early afternoon and Lee would take the bus home at 5. There is a bus stop near the office and another close to our house, so it seemed like a good idea.
I was actually pretty happy with the plan. At the risk of sounding like a hippie, I feel like we all rely too heavily on oil. That’s why our most recent car purchase was a diesel with good gas mileage. And that’s why I wanted to support public transportation – it’s like voicing my opinion with my wallet, right?
Except the bus experience was disappointing. The ride itself was fine – usually only about 15 minutes. But the bus was late more than it was on time, and quite often very late. Sometimes it would take Lee an hour to get home, even though home was only three miles away, because he spent so long waiting on the unreliable bus.
But the clincher happened last week. The bus was more than thirty minutes late. When it finally came, he boarded, paid his fare, and then two blocks later the bus driver ordered everyone off. No explanation. No refund. And then he drove away, leaving a confused crowd of would-be riders on the sidewalk.
The situation was frustrating for sure, but at least Lee was able to call me and have me come pick him up. But I have new sympathy for people who don’t have another form of transportation. What if you had to rely on the bus to get to a job on time? To get home to your kids? It’s not like they can take their business to a competitor bus company. They’re stuck.
We’re about to pony up the extra money for another parking spot because we’re the lucky ones. But you shouldn’t have to be lucky to be able to get a reliable ride home.
When it came to Trent and Michelle’s wedding, we’d have gone anywhere to celebrate with them. But we were thrilled with their choice of Athens. Every time I come back to that town, waves of fondness wash over me. If I could gather it up in my arms I’d give it a long squeeze.
Friday night there was a party at a great little restaurant called Cali and Tito’s – if you live in the Athens area and haven’t gone there yet, stop what you’re doing and go. NOW! The cute restaurant offers tons of outdoor seating, really good Mexican food and a fun play area for kids. I’m already ready to go back.
For the reception, they rented a very cool bar with lots of comfy couches and a fabulous courtyard. I had the strange experience of bellying up to the bar with Camille, who enjoyed a Shirley Temple.
Can’t we hang with our friends like this every weekend?
This weekend we made a pilgrimage to Athens to celebrate the wedding of Trent and Michelle. Trent is Lee’s best friend and we’ve known each other a long time. He’s “Uncle Trent” around our house because he might as well be a brother.
I haven’t known Michelle nearly as long, but the first time I met her I knew she was a keeper. She’s a sweet southern gem, the kind who overflows with kindness and hospitality, yet with easily enough fire to keep Trent in line. We could not be happier to now call her “Aunt Michelle.”
Finally, episode #2 for your viewing pleasure!
Happy Fifty Months big girl! I write this letter feeling much less anxious than I did one month ago, when you were on the verge of starting your elementary school career. Last month, you had your final day at the wonderful Montessori preschool where you’ve been a student for the past two years. You got a big hug from your favorite teacher, Miss Carrie, and insisted on a final swing on the monkey bars as we left the school.
Then suddenly, it was time. Time to put on a school uniform, a big girl backpack and start elementary school. I wished I felt as carefree as you looked in this photo on your first day. But I was a mess of nerves!
At school, you stopped to pose by the stone lions at the front door, then went happily into your classroom.
You drew a picture of a Totoro for me to take to work to keep me company, and I propped it up beside my laptop so I could see it all day.
I waited anxiously for the chance to pick you up and hear about your first day of school. You gave a good report, but looked utterly exhausted. Fortunately, a nearby restaurant serves up some good ice cream, so we stopped in for a scoop. We were joined by other school buddies, including sweet Lola from your pre-k class.
I knew the real test would come in the following days, and I wondered if you’d lose your enthusiasm. I’m happy to report that three weeks into the school year, you are doing SO WELL. We all are.
You occasionally tell me you don’t want to go, or that you wish school were like gymnastics class so I could stay in the balcony and watch (me too!). But thankfully, every day you are brimming with tales of your adventures and are so excited to share them with us. You no longer want to take your lunch (despite your prized Buzz Lightyear lunchbox), and love getting a school lunch, “like the big kids do.”
At first you told me you didn’t have any friends at school because you liked to play by yourself. You told me the other girls want to play kitty cats, but you don’t want to play kitties because your school mascot is a lion, and you’re a LION. But by the second week you started telling me about new buddies, and now I hear every day about how you love to play with Billy. Your teacher confirms that you two are close pals, and I’m glad you are making new friends.
Now that you’re big enough for big girl school, you’re also big enough to start a special daddy-daughter tradition. When I was in school, Granddaddy took me to breakfast one morning every week. Sometimes we’d talk, sometimes I’d read the comics while he read the rest of the paper, but it was always a special time. Now you and your Daddy have started the tradition and you both look forward to the outing all week. What a great Daddy you have, and what a fabulous pair you two make.
This last month hasn’t been only about school, although it did take up a lot of mental real estate in my head. We began last month in Oregon, where you had so many great experiences, like seeing the Pacific Ocean, learning to seesaw and admiring volcanoes. You loved looking for Mt. Hood, or “Mountain Hood” as you called it. We all enjoyed the cooler weather, although you showed your true southern roots. It was about 65 degrees with a cool breeze blowing and you told me it might snow. Then followed up with, “I wish you had brought my gloves.”
You were a super traveler on the plane, but unfortunately the final leg of our journey didn’t end well. A snack went down the wrong way and you had a coughing fit, and as we were taxiing to the terminal you threw up. You were quite a mess so we had to let you walk shirtless off the plane until we could access a change of clothes in our luggage. But you added levity to the situation as you danced down the aisle, feeling unencumbered, announcing, “People are going to be surprised because they don’t expect to see someone naked!” Indeed!
From the Pacific to the Atlantic, you were soon back in the Savannah heat and playing on the beach at Tybee Island. From the first time we ever took you into the ocean, you have not liked the waves. You can’t stand water in your face, and certainly don’t like being toppled by the surf. But this time, as I held your hand and you jumped the waves, you yelled triumphantly, “I don’t care if water gets in my face! I don’t care about the waves!”
I watched in amazement as you let yourself be tossed around in the shallow water and wondered if you’d truly overcome your fear. Then one wave
finally found its way to your face, and you ran out of the water screaming, “I CARE! I CARE!”
Silly girl. You really do keep us laughing, whether you mean to or not. I am so proud of the way you’ve handled all the big changes in your life this month, and am so happy to be along for the ride. I love you so much.
… except, this poor baby bamboo lemur was rejected by its mother. Thankfully, according to zooborns.com, a zoo employee is now caring for the lemur baby.
Is it so ugly it’s cute? Maybe. I kind of want to cuddle it.
