Monday, October 31, 2011

. . . the pumpkin patch

Every year since her birth, we-the-parents have taken Miss Adorable to a pumpkin patch.  The first year, she just sat in her stroller, covered in a warm blanket and stared.  The second year, she wandered around looking at the tiniest ones, but not really understanding the concept of fall.  The third and fourth years, she remembered, actually remembered, that fall was coming and fall meant pumpkins.  And this year, our four-year-old reminded us as soon as the first hint of orange arrived at our favorite patch that it was time to round up her baby and head out to find some harvest fruit.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

. . . le ballet

Finally, she's a ballerina. More on the wonder of this new adventure later.
 For now, here's adorable-in-pink ...

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

... words, words and more words

Today, the original baby-adorable will speak for herself.

On proper nouns:
The name of her black bear is Adeline Jewel.

The name of her boy baby is Errol Ridley*.

The name of her first baby is Crawlia. The name of her second baby is Shyla. Both are girls.

The name of her favorite place for french fries and horse-watching: Five Man Burgers.

On her baby sister:
I eat meat. But Iwah doesn't eat meat. She's not a carnivore yet.

Iwah is tired of being wakened, Mama. she wants to be asleep.

No, no, Isla. You can't be in that room unless a grown-up or a big sissy is in there. Because you know what's in there? A whole bunch of choking hazards. And you know what you'll do? (Picking her baby sister up and half-carrying, half-dragging her back into the 'safe-zone') You'll go in there and you'll pick up those choking hazards and you'll put them in your mouth and then you'll choke. So you just have to stay out here.

Iwah, grab the leash. Come on, Iwah, grab the leash. There you go. Ok, come on pup. Hold on, Iwah.

On fashion:
But I don't wear jammie bottoms , Mama. I only wear dresses and skirts and gowns.

On Architecture:
Mama, I'm trying to build grandpa. I'm building him out of a cheerio and another cheerio. It's hard to build grandpa because he's very very big. Boys are big and girls are little. Mama? is Dadoo big? Mama? Is mama little?

On picking up her toys by herself while Dadoo rubs Mama's back:
But I'm so sick and my back is weak.

On kindergarten:
Oh Yay! It's kindergarten day!

On counting using the counting blocks:
Woo-hoo, mama! This is so cool!

On affection:
I love you, too, Mama. But you know who I love best of all? Dadoo. Yeah. And you know who else I love? Poosie-pants. She's so cute, isn't she mama? And she does funny things.

Random quotes:

Mama, we have tiny wittle necks. Mama, we can't see very far because we are not giraffes. Giraffes and brachyosaurus-es have verwee wong necks, so they can see far.

Mama, I need a band aid on my lip. I bit my lip and I need a band aid on it. And on here and here, too.

Mama? I'm wetting it catch on my tongue so it doesn't get on my band aid. Because it always gets wet and it can't go. I'm so glad I have a band aid. But, one day it will be all healed.

Watch this, Mama. I'm gonna suck it all up.

Tell me a story, Mama. Tell me about Jesus.


**We-the-parents reserve the right to utilize the name Errol Ridley in any form for any potential future offspring. We think this is a pretty cool name and are super impressed that the baby-adorable chose it for her baby.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Saturday, July 9, 2011

... sweet nothings

As our adorable grows, we-the-parents hear more and more and more words coming from her still small lips. The past tense almost always has the '-ed' suffix attached these days, and a majority of the time, she gets the application right: "colored" for what she did to the page in that book, for example. Sometimes she still says things like, "when I was a baby, Mama, and I swim-ded in your tummy, did you hear me?", and those times are such sweet reminders of the baby-ness that is all but gone.

Every time someone tries to correct her "Dungo" for "Dumbo", Mama secretly (well, not so secretly now, but you get the point) wants to slug them for nearly erasing the last bit of itsy from her four-and-one-third-year-old's vocabulary. We hold on to and deliberately mispronounce words like "post-guard" because we know that soon all that pronunciation will be correct. It's not like journalism and english have anything against correct, but rather that our hearts weren't prepared-ed for how much we would love the soft sounds of almost-got-it-right.

Along with the sweet sounds of this growing grammar, our ears of late have been pleasantly pummeled with sweet words. They come out of the blue, and in a manner that implies she must've been thinking about them, even though we-the-parents are caught unawares. Take two nights ago when the family was driving home after a big lake-walk and our big-girl-Bee spotted what she now calls "an aircraft!!!!" flying against the sunset.

"It's an aircraft!!!! Look, Mama! Look, Dadoo! Can you see it? It's a Chinook!", and then, "Dadoo, you and I are really good spy-ers ... (brief pause as she loads a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, processes the cold on her tongue and swallows, meanwhile, Dadoo in the driver's seat seems ready to protest the description when he's interrupted by the completion of the tiny one's thought) ... of aircraft. Good job, Dadoo!" (Dadoo says, "Thank you, Averie!")*

Or, take for an additional theorem proof, her remarks to Mama even earlier that same evening: "Mama," she said, thoughtfully spearing a strawberry with her fork, "I love your pretty hair, and I love the color of your eyes."

And every night, after reading time with Mama, she lies in her bed, snuggled in with at least seven of her 'darlings' who, along with her are all wrapped up in her favorite afghan, and says with the most serious of faces, "Mama, remember this, ok? Remember this: tell Dadoo, and tell him woudwy, Mama, because he can't hear good, tell Dadoo, the he has to come IN to check on me, and he has to come all the way into my room, and when he asks me if I am asleep, and if I say 'yes' or 'no' then he will lay by me. Ok, Mama? Tell Dadoo. Tell him to remember this, ok?" She follows it with a soft "I wuv you, Mama" and that Mama's heart is fully melted. Every single time.

These little murmurings aren't confined to the ears of the household grownups. She also wraps them around her baby with whispers of, "Oh, Iwah, I'm so glad you were borned out of Mama's tummy!" and "I kiss your wittle baby wips, Iwah!" and "I wuv you, Iwah! You're such a big girl, wittle naughty-pants!"

It's not the only kind of speech we hear, of course. But this kind of language makes up the majority of our conversations with our girl, and for this we are so thankful. It makes the times when we hear the less-than-sweet easier to bear and easier to chasten.

Sweetness pictured below, if you're wondering what kind of sugar has wrapped up our hearts.

*Nevermind that this short sweetness was followed with "But remember, Dadoo. I am better at seeing far than you are, because you can't see very far, but I can. Remember this, Dadoo."

Saturday, June 4, 2011

. . . the return of the glamorous, pool edition

Our girl-adorable is still glamorous. This year, she picked out her own bathing suit. Usually, Mama picks them out and goes for something cute, covering, and UVA/B protective. Sophisticated is not usually part of the mix, because, well, Mama's first baby is only four.

But this year, as her mama was browsing suits online at our favorite swim shop, Bee was browsing right beside her on the couch. And suddenly, she knew the one she wanted. Mama liked it, too, but thought it was strange that her baby-girl said she wanted that particular one, and so she asked her baby repeatedly, 'Are you sure?' and 'What about this one?'. Bee emphatically, decisively replied that she wanted 'That one, Mama. I want that one. With the white roses on it.'

'Ok,' said Mama as she clicked on it to make the purchase. And then, unbelievably, it was gone! Some of you may have heard how Mama emailed customer service and then called multiple stores in the city searching for the suit, which had apparently sold out online right as we were shopping. Customer service located it for us at a store in New York City, but the one we finally purchased came from a search on good ol' ebay.

It arrived, and Bee could hardly wait to get it washed before wearing it. Thankfully, her Dadoo managed to get her pool set up right about the time it came out of the dryer and the glamorous girl was able to enjoy the first splash of the season in style. Here she is catching some ripples in her new suit.

Could she be the cutest thing you've seen yet???

Monday, May 16, 2011

. . . the interrogative


Mama: 'Averie, please don't ask Mama "why" about everything.'

Averie: 'Why, Mama? Why can I not ask "why" about everything?'

Saturday, April 16, 2011

. . . four, and then some.

This is a three-year-old girl.

This is what a three-year-old girl looks like on her last day as a three-year-old girl. And now, she's four.

Her less-than-fabulous mama didn't throw her a big party, but her so-awesome-he-rocks-too-Dadoo planned the perfect surprises for her and invited her Mimi and Grampy to come all the way from North Carolina and her Auntie and Uncle to come all the way from Mississippi (Eagles are FIERCE) to help celebrate.

Our sweet girl spent her last days as a three-year-old playing all her favorite games, eating all her favorite foods, and visiting all her favorite parks with her mama, dadoo, her baby sis, NC-grandparents, and her Auntie & Uncle. It was two weeks of cake, cupcakes, ice cream, multi-colored sprinkles and more cake: sweet on so very many levels.

The sweetest of all was our precious four-year-old. Here she is on the 4th anniversary of her birth. Oh how we all love her.

Friday, January 14, 2011

. . . her first hair cut

Nearly four years after her birth, the baby-adorable got a haircut. Mama nearly fainted, but managed to persevere through to the end. Averie was ecstatic, even though her mother would not cut off as much as she requested. Dadoo, ever the photog for these family events, captured the before and after. Mama's thinking it may need a little evening up after her next hair-wash.


Surveying her new do:

The After: