Friday, May 29, 2009
You mean like the cow?
You see, after Elsie was born two weeks early and we called and surprised my parents with the news of her birth, we also caught my mother off guard with her name. Granted, we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl and so my mom had no heads up. But when we told her that her name was "Elizabeth Locksley Thompson" and we would call her Elsie, she responded with "You mean like the cow?" She was thinking of the Borden cow, an icon of her era, and since this occasion, we have teased my mom mercilessly as we are wont to do about her poor handling of surprises and her general uncoolness. This kind of teasing, of course, has a long history beginning in approximately 1974 when I learned to talk. The teasing happens when I remember being mortified by my clothes and thus my mother on various holidays as a young child, when I remember desiring invisibility when my mother alerted anyone to her existence when I was a teenager, and when I remember pouting on family vacations when my mother made me pose for pictures to remember the moment.
What made me think of these memories is, of course, this picture of Elsie pouting under a picture of the Borden cow that I made her pose for. I am certain this means that one day when Elsie calls me to say that she has given birth to a girl named "Paris" that I will very uncoolly reply "You mean like the Hilton sister?" an icon of my era. Let the teasing commence.
You see, after Elsie was born two weeks early and we called and surprised my parents with the news of her birth, we also caught my mother off guard with her name. Granted, we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl and so my mom had no heads up. But when we told her that her name was "Elizabeth Locksley Thompson" and we would call her Elsie, she responded with "You mean like the cow?" She was thinking of the Borden cow, an icon of her era, and since this occasion, we have teased my mom mercilessly as we are wont to do about her poor handling of surprises and her general uncoolness. This kind of teasing, of course, has a long history beginning in approximately 1974 when I learned to talk. The teasing happens when I remember being mortified by my clothes and thus my mother on various holidays as a young child, when I remember desiring invisibility when my mother alerted anyone to her existence when I was a teenager, and when I remember pouting on family vacations when my mother made me pose for pictures to remember the moment.What made me think of these memories is, of course, this picture of Elsie pouting under a picture of the Borden cow that I made her pose for. I am certain this means that one day when Elsie calls me to say that she has given birth to a girl named "Paris" that I will very uncoolly reply "You mean like the Hilton sister?" an icon of my era. Let the teasing commence.
A Big Time in the Big City
We had a really wonderful trip to Atlanta for Memorial Day--we met baby Tad, we did big city kid
stuff, we did big city grown up stuff, we saw family and fri
ends. Here are some shots of us at the Botanical Gardens. We also hit the zoo. Big city dining is always a treat and this time we ate like kings at Flip and Horseradish Grill--thanks Mom and Dad! As 
always, it was packed full and rushed and made us sad to leave and eager to return.
One of the phenomena of parenthood we've discovered is that the thing that you think will be so difficult and so hard never is--something else that you never expected is always harder. We thought driving a 5 month old four hours in the car on a holiday weekend into major traffic with a detour on I16 would be a pain in the rear, but really, driving Kit in such conditions was delightful. It gave me four hours to look at my peaceful baby adoringly. It was the 2 1/2 year old that we were minutes away from dropping off at the Dublin rest stop. The problem was that we made certain rules and then we were stuck and backed into a corner with no DVD player, pabby, or snacks. And it was this moment wherein we had a moment of clarity: we have no idea what we are doing and we just know Elsie will have a lifetime of eating disorders and therapy because of us. That said, we made it to Atlanta with only one lap full of vomit and everything else except our minds and souls fairly in tact. Luckily, they serve cocktails at 665.
We had a really wonderful trip to Atlanta for Memorial Day--we met baby Tad, we did big city kid
stuff, we did big city grown up stuff, we saw family and fri
ends. Here are some shots of us at the Botanical Gardens. We also hit the zoo. Big city dining is always a treat and this time we ate like kings at Flip and Horseradish Grill--thanks Mom and Dad! As 
always, it was packed full and rushed and made us sad to leave and eager to return.One of the phenomena of parenthood we've discovered is that the thing that you think will be so difficult and so hard never is--something else that you never expected is always harder. We thought driving a 5 month old four hours in the car on a holiday weekend into major traffic with a detour on I16 would be a pain in the rear, but really, driving Kit in such conditions was delightful. It gave me four hours to look at my peaceful baby adoringly. It was the 2 1/2 year old that we were minutes away from dropping off at the Dublin rest stop. The problem was that we made certain rules and then we were stuck and backed into a corner with no DVD player, pabby, or snacks. And it was this moment wherein we had a moment of clarity: we have no idea what we are doing and we just know Elsie will have a lifetime of eating disorders and therapy because of us. That said, we made it to Atlanta with only one lap full of vomit and everything else except our minds and souls fairly in tact. Luckily, they serve cocktails at 665.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Cousins
With the arrival of Tad last week and our visit to Atlanta last weekend, we are especially excited about cousins of late. I'm new to the world of cousins--I only had one growing up. David has long been a fan of cousins. Elsie has easily embraced cousinhood as these pictures indicate. Cousins are good for hugging, clearly, and good for duets. Perhaps this posse of cousins can cook up a band. I imagine cousins to be a good respite from siblings at times. I'm anxious to explore what cousins are all about.
How to get to Sesame Street...
So, Elsie got to check out Sesame Street Live with her buddy Camille about 10 days ago. It was her second Civic Center extravaganza--remember the Wiggles a while back. This production was more earnest than ironic, but E loved seeing Elmo live. Unfortunately, she came home with a big of a bug that our house has been battling ever since. Hopefully, we'll be rid of it just in time to head to the beach Saturday for two weeks of vacation fun!
So, Elsie got to check out Sesame Street Live with her buddy Camille about 10 days ago. It was her second Civic Center extravaganza--remember the Wiggles a while back. This production was more earnest than ironic, but E loved seeing Elmo live. Unfortunately, she came home with a big of a bug that our house has been battling ever since. Hopefully, we'll be rid of it just in time to head to the beach Saturday for two weeks of vacation fun!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
For Kate and Johnny: Our Wishes for You
We have been thinking of you so much lately as we wait for our new niece or nephew to arrive. Any day now... any minute now... We can't wait to hear when and to find out who we will welcome with so much love. And as we wait, we thought we'd send out some wishes to you. Daily, David and I are floored by the paradoxical nature of parenthood, its wonders and its frustrations, both--sometimes at the same time.
Ultimately, parenthood is really boring. How many times can you read Dora goes to the Dentist (an inane book); or play at making soup in the backyard with a hose, dirt, bucket, a old croquet stick for stirring, with a sprinkling of grass on top; or sing the "Baa baa black sheep" over and over; or answer the same questions ad nauseum? I mean this is really boring stuff. But you can't get enough of it. I'm sometimes desperate to get away from it, but when you aren't there, you want to be there. I rush home and find myself staring at Kit spitting at me for a good twenty minutes straight communicating with her in that baby way as if our conversation is scintillating. We wish you all the boring fascination in the world.
And we find that parenthood is maddening. Elsie spends a lot of time not listening to us which is a nice way of saying deliberately disobeying us. You can't believe you have to tell her repeatedly to stop sucking on the straw of the broom and not to brush her sister's hair with a broom and to put the broom down, damnit. You can't believe someone can move as slow as she does when you are trying to get in the car for Sesame Street Live with her rainboots, raincoat, Dora umbrella, Salty Dog Hat, and purse with Elmo spinner. You can't believe that she will question the whereabouts of the box turtle that stopped by our yard a year ago every hour of every day. But then, you can't get enough of it. You find that your heart will skip with joy without warning--just at a glimpse of her in your rear view mirror, singing quietly in her carseat. You find yourself naming an imaginary dog "Skillet" just to trick her into saying words that highlight her misprononciation: "skiwet." You find yourself desperate for her to fall asleep and find yourself hungry for her to wake back up. It awakens such an intense passionate love. We wish you all the maddening love in the world.
We find that parenthood is exhausting. Our friend described it as relentless and it is--the sleeplessness, the sheer boredom, the monotony, the impossibility of even using the bathroom without hindrances. But then there is the exhilaration of the firsts--the food, the smiles, the steps. We wish you all the exhausting exhiliration in the world.
We find that as parents we mourn those people we were and those freedoms we had. Parenthood ties you up in so many ways. An upcoming holiday isn't really a break from anything and doesn't necessarily mean more relaxation. It just means that every moment is that much more rich, more intense, the cooped up ones and those where you are free to lay in the grass and dance on the rug, to run in the rain and splash in the sea... to notice the world and all it has to offer and to experience it doubly in the exuberance of your child. We mourn with you what you will lose and are confident you will be consoled by how much more you will gain.
We have been thinking of you so much lately as we wait for our new niece or nephew to arrive. Any day now... any minute now... We can't wait to hear when and to find out who we will welcome with so much love. And as we wait, we thought we'd send out some wishes to you. Daily, David and I are floored by the paradoxical nature of parenthood, its wonders and its frustrations, both--sometimes at the same time.
Ultimately, parenthood is really boring. How many times can you read Dora goes to the Dentist (an inane book); or play at making soup in the backyard with a hose, dirt, bucket, a old croquet stick for stirring, with a sprinkling of grass on top; or sing the "Baa baa black sheep" over and over; or answer the same questions ad nauseum? I mean this is really boring stuff. But you can't get enough of it. I'm sometimes desperate to get away from it, but when you aren't there, you want to be there. I rush home and find myself staring at Kit spitting at me for a good twenty minutes straight communicating with her in that baby way as if our conversation is scintillating. We wish you all the boring fascination in the world.
And we find that parenthood is maddening. Elsie spends a lot of time not listening to us which is a nice way of saying deliberately disobeying us. You can't believe you have to tell her repeatedly to stop sucking on the straw of the broom and not to brush her sister's hair with a broom and to put the broom down, damnit. You can't believe someone can move as slow as she does when you are trying to get in the car for Sesame Street Live with her rainboots, raincoat, Dora umbrella, Salty Dog Hat, and purse with Elmo spinner. You can't believe that she will question the whereabouts of the box turtle that stopped by our yard a year ago every hour of every day. But then, you can't get enough of it. You find that your heart will skip with joy without warning--just at a glimpse of her in your rear view mirror, singing quietly in her carseat. You find yourself naming an imaginary dog "Skillet" just to trick her into saying words that highlight her misprononciation: "skiwet." You find yourself desperate for her to fall asleep and find yourself hungry for her to wake back up. It awakens such an intense passionate love. We wish you all the maddening love in the world.
We find that parenthood is exhausting. Our friend described it as relentless and it is--the sleeplessness, the sheer boredom, the monotony, the impossibility of even using the bathroom without hindrances. But then there is the exhilaration of the firsts--the food, the smiles, the steps. We wish you all the exhausting exhiliration in the world.
We find that as parents we mourn those people we were and those freedoms we had. Parenthood ties you up in so many ways. An upcoming holiday isn't really a break from anything and doesn't necessarily mean more relaxation. It just means that every moment is that much more rich, more intense, the cooped up ones and those where you are free to lay in the grass and dance on the rug, to run in the rain and splash in the sea... to notice the world and all it has to offer and to experience it doubly in the exuberance of your child. We mourn with you what you will lose and are confident you will be consoled by how much more you will gain.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Potty Humor
So, we seemed to have turned a corner with potty training and after various false starts and backslides, false alarms and curse words, Elsie has been in real underwear for a few weeks now. She wakes up and requests her big girl panties first thing. She definitely has got #2 down and will run in from outside and wake up from slumber to get to the potty. And she has had a surprisingly few accidents with tinkling (just 2 or 3), and we have lots of good excuses for those. She even keeps her pull up dry during nap time. Baby diapers have nothing on two year old diapers and we'll gladly relinquish the latter. A few funny potty-related Elsie stories:
1. Her favorite phrase is "let me show you something..." It's a euphemism she uses often for anything and sometimes to get to do something we've outlawed or get at something we don't want her to have. "Hey Daddy let me show you something..." as she attempts to climb on the counter to get at the stashed Easter candy/potty incentives. "Hey Mommy let me show you something..." as she tries to go outside and play in the "soup" she made in a flower pot in the backyard yesterday while I am trying to get her out of the door for school in presentable manner this morning. She also uses it innocently to get our attention. For example, last week, as David was performing his post-work ablutions, Elsie called out, "Hey Daddy, let me show you something..." She pulled down her pants, "Hey Daddy, where are my tinkle parts?" Daddy assured her that her tinkle parts were girl parts like Mommy's and just where they were supposed to be.
2. So, we are in Target yesterday and Elsie is getting to pick out some new big girl panties. I let her choose and she demanded "Hannah Ontana." She then insisted on putting them on immediately upon arriving at home and wearing them to school today. Come on--"Hannah Ontana" at age 2?! What will those preschool teachers think of me? Let me be clear--she has never seen "Hannah Ontana." In fact, when she got home and was ripping into the packaging, she asked me, "What Hannah Ontana do, Mommy?" I told her that she was a singer and she then quizzed David on what she sang. We, of course, haven't a clue. Elsie's only encounter with the teen phenom was a sticker she got at the doctor and some party favor she got at the park. Now, that is all it takes?! They are filming a Hannah Montana movie this summer on Tybee--if Elsie's ardor was flamed from such minor encounters, we fear we'll be stalking Tybee with the screaming hoards before too long. Just look out for the two year old with the "Hannah Ontana" panties.
So, we seemed to have turned a corner with potty training and after various false starts and backslides, false alarms and curse words, Elsie has been in real underwear for a few weeks now. She wakes up and requests her big girl panties first thing. She definitely has got #2 down and will run in from outside and wake up from slumber to get to the potty. And she has had a surprisingly few accidents with tinkling (just 2 or 3), and we have lots of good excuses for those. She even keeps her pull up dry during nap time. Baby diapers have nothing on two year old diapers and we'll gladly relinquish the latter. A few funny potty-related Elsie stories:
1. Her favorite phrase is "let me show you something..." It's a euphemism she uses often for anything and sometimes to get to do something we've outlawed or get at something we don't want her to have. "Hey Daddy let me show you something..." as she attempts to climb on the counter to get at the stashed Easter candy/potty incentives. "Hey Mommy let me show you something..." as she tries to go outside and play in the "soup" she made in a flower pot in the backyard yesterday while I am trying to get her out of the door for school in presentable manner this morning. She also uses it innocently to get our attention. For example, last week, as David was performing his post-work ablutions, Elsie called out, "Hey Daddy, let me show you something..." She pulled down her pants, "Hey Daddy, where are my tinkle parts?" Daddy assured her that her tinkle parts were girl parts like Mommy's and just where they were supposed to be.
2. So, we are in Target yesterday and Elsie is getting to pick out some new big girl panties. I let her choose and she demanded "Hannah Ontana." She then insisted on putting them on immediately upon arriving at home and wearing them to school today. Come on--"Hannah Ontana" at age 2?! What will those preschool teachers think of me? Let me be clear--she has never seen "Hannah Ontana." In fact, when she got home and was ripping into the packaging, she asked me, "What Hannah Ontana do, Mommy?" I told her that she was a singer and she then quizzed David on what she sang. We, of course, haven't a clue. Elsie's only encounter with the teen phenom was a sticker she got at the doctor and some party favor she got at the park. Now, that is all it takes?! They are filming a Hannah Montana movie this summer on Tybee--if Elsie's ardor was flamed from such minor encounters, we fear we'll be stalking Tybee with the screaming hoards before too long. Just look out for the two year old with the "Hannah Ontana" panties.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
happy mother's day!
well it was mommy x2 this year, so double the celebration. e and daddy were up and running (literally) at 7am planning the days festivities. e worked best on the sofa watching the little einsteins with a bowl of grapes and watermelon we found. she did find her way into the kitchen in time to help dad add blueberries to the special mommy's day super waffles. mommy walked in at just the right moment with k in hand. super waffles and fresh picked flowers by e were waiting at the table. next came a handcrafted card by e and dad, and a little token of our appreciation (pictured tunic) for being the most amazing mommy. we love you mommy and are so lucky to have you. d, e, & k
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