How To Beat the Heat
Surely, there are few childhood joys that measure up to walking in fountains under the searing summer sun.
John John got his first taste today. I think it was sweet.
His First Barbershop Visit
Growing Up (In Spite of Himself)
This weekend, we moved John John to his first non-crib, big boy bed. The first night was a bit rough, but by nap today he seemed to have gotten the hang of it. I can see, however, that he has some mixed feelings about the move. Last night he plaintively asked for his crib – it was already full of boxes of baby girl clothes…this is probably also related to his soon-to-be big brother status.
Today, he asked me if he was wearing big boy underpants. I told him yes. “Why?” he asked. “Because,” I told him, “You are a big boy now.”
He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, and then declared in one of his fullest, nuanced sentences to date:
“No, I’m still just a little baby.”
Little baby has grown up. Even if he didn’t mean to. He went to bed without any fuss tonight. A big boy.
Checking Out the Bay
While John was checking out more stuff at the Fancy Food Show, we checked out lunch, the Bay Bridge, Embarcadero trolleys, and a large seagull. John John’s big question both on the drive up and at the pier: “What’s that water doing right there?” My answers were clearly unsatisfactory, as each reply prompted his requisite follow up question, “Why?”
2015 Christmas Day At the Cement Boat
This year, we had sublime weather on Christmas Day. It was perfect for our annual trek out to greet the Pacific Ocean as a family.
On the pier, John and John-John sat on a bench and watched the waves roll in. Glad to be raising another human fascinated by the unique yet repetitive nature of crashing waves and sea foam patterns. He was mesmerized.
After, John-John ran around foot of the cliffs, picking and exploring the ice plant, cold barbeques, and picnic tables. Child paradise!
Dinner Time Stay-cation
The experience was akin to an International Cafe commercial (Anyone remember those? “Jean-Luc!”). Sitting at the dinner table with my family – imagine it:
I’m holding a bowl of soup up, inhaling the rich scent, looking through the gently curling steam at my loving husband, chef and creator of this amazing dish. The buttery-richness of homemade stock mixed with kabocha squash. Every sip brought the soft focus back to this dinner time pastoral, blurring out the loud and fussing toddler just out of frame to my left, probably throwing food on the ground and shouting no or something like that. Another sip. I look out the sliding glass door to see the fading colors of yet another beautiful sunset. The perfect end to what must have been a perfect day. “Honey,” I didn’t say because I don’t call anyone that, “this soup is perfection. Every swallow is like going on vacation.” I actually did say that second part. And it was true. So rich and sumptuous. So yummy.
That’s when I learned that, in addition to kabocha squash and chicken stock, the soup also had an entire stick of butter in it.
Whatever. I don’t care. Calgon, take me away…
First (Almost) Concert Experience
My dad was in town playing with the Cypress Quartet. John John’s first concert! We met Opapa in front of the venue. John John was excited.
We sat in the very back, knowing that at any moment during the concert we might have to bolt. John John sat on my lap barely making it through the chamber society’s lengthy announcements of their upcoming schedule, but sat up when the musicians entered and walked up to the stage. He clapped, a member of the audience.
But they didn’t sit down to play. First was the informational talk on what we were about to hear. You can imagine how high that flew for a two year old. We had to leave before the music even began. (wah-wahhh goes the sad trombone.)
Happily, John John got his own private concert the very next morning.
He liked that very much.
The Longest Ninety Minute Flight
Of Viff and Other Words That Have Gone the Way of the Dodo Bird
I wrote about Viff in the post about the aquarium. I was too late on that one, too. By the time we drove home from the aquarium, he was already saying Fish correctly.
John John pointed to my shoulder recently, and said definitively, “Butt.” I looked at my shirt; he was pointing to some decorative buttons. “Button,” I said. “Can you say, ‘button?'”
“Butt,” he told me.
I kept meaning to make a little post about this because I thought it was cute. There have been many moments of this, pointing to his pants button, and announcing, “Butt.” Or my collared shirt: “Butt.”
Today, he said, “Button,” and I knew my chance of posting in the moment had slipped by. But while the iron is still hot, I wish to strike two more times: mokosyll & keemah.
It’s great that he is developing, but I’ll be just a little sad when he finally says motorcycle and cucumber.