look what i made

weekly guy

when ava was but a young lass, i refused her sugar like any self respecting, over-protective, mother-of-one would do. and she didn't have any until she was about a year-and-a-half. then i had seth. and i tried again. and i was doing pretty good, too. until one day i saw ava offer her popsicle to her younger sibling. he took a lick and you could see the exclamation point form over his head.

"WHAT IS THAT? WHERE DID YOU GET IT? WHERE'S MINE? CAN I HAVE ONE? GIVE ME ANOTHER LICK!!!" and then he was jumping and clawing and attacking ava ferociously and then she was screaming.

"MOM!! SETH'S BUGGING ME!!!" but i can't say that i responded quickly because she's always saying that. always.

now boy child is getting his own popsicles these days. granted, i break off a major portion of it, but still, he's holding it all by himself and this pleases him.
>

weekly mouse

ava's first birthday party for someone else was this last weekend. it was little greer's princess party, where ava was allowed to attend in her princess garb. obviously she was so excited she over accessorized.

it was a good party, with princess crown making and princess necklace making, both of which ava took very seriously. very seriously. but the best part about this party is that greer is a hambly offspring. and hamblys are many things that i really love, but the best part about hamblys is this: their food. when you are born a hambly you are born with many gifts. you are funny. you enjoy good music. but best of all, you can make good food. and i think it transfers over when you marry a hambly, because jenn is a hambly by name and she's got it. oh boy, does she got it.

so i ate. and ate and ate and ate. and then i had a cupcake which was so good i had to close my eyes while i ate it. . .

ava doesn't really know about all of that. she mostly just concentrated on making a necklace and eating the frosting off of her cupcake. and i know that this "weekly mouse" post has deviated from the usual ava talk and has landed somewhere in the midst of praising to high heaven some people you don't even know, but she looked really cute, don't you think?

the labor day wherein i did not labor

this is going to be a long one. i just wanted you to recognize that before you committed to reading this post that really only serves as a journal entry and is neither interesting or funny. consider yourself warned.

it has been SO LONG since we all piled into the car (the four of us) and did something fun. it seems like for the last few months we've had things going on, or we've had errands to run, or SOMETHING has kept us from just letting our hair down and having a good time. ryan was the genius who proposed venice beach and for that i will be eternally grateful to him.

the weather was amazing. the beach was beautiful. the children were happy. there was a little girl selling lemonade with her parents for fifty cents. it was lovely. plus, ryan managed to squeeze my car into the smallest parking spot ever. which turned out interesting. as the parking was so intense (for example, the parking lot where you paid to park was $25), there were lots of people lined up and waiting for our spot when we came back. this girl had her boyfriend swing their car out in front of everyone who had been waiting and snag our spot. this meant that as i stood outside the car and helped ryan pull out in a way that meant we didn't have to contact our insurance company, she and five other drivers all yelled at each other. then she tried to get me to agree with her that her large suv would totally fit into the spot my tiny nissan was just in. i refused to agree. i also did not disagree. this is a lesson my grandmother taught me. i use it often.

so hooray for labor day, for summer, for the amazing state of california and for the habit which, and i know this is going to be considered "stirring the pot", but i'll say it anyway: is WAY BETTER THAN IN N OUT. want to know why? REAL BACON. AND AVOCADO. and those just could be my two favorite food items. and also, ryan really likes their shakes.

102

happy birthday to my dad

that strapping young man is none other than my father, carlisle, the man seth (carlisle) is named after. and today is his birthday. which means that i will share a story that will be potentially embarassing to him. . .let me think. . .

got one!

i know my mother must have put me to sleep at night, but i really only remember my dad doing it. this meant that he sang me a few songs, told me a few stories and tried to stay my many attempts at postponing bedtime. one time i whined for a drink of water. my father replied:

"open your mouth and pretend that it's raining and the rain is pouring into your mouth and you're drinking it up and now you're not thirsty anymore."

do you know what i did? I TRIED HIS RIDICULOUS IDEA!! and guess what? it didn't work. i tried to inform him of this, but i'm pretty sure he did what i do to ava almost every night, which is this: the moment i offer my final idea and am finally completely deflated from the day's events and my child is of course not, she starts her rebuttal and i hop up suddenly and high tail i for the door, offering all of my best and most loving fareweel's for the day.

"good night! see you in the morning! i love you!"

before ava can protest, the door is shut and i am in the living room, panting and ready for a mug of ice cream. i can only imagine my father and i shared the same experience.

so dad, happy birthday!

ah-ah-alimony

ava is three now. and i have to admit, that i am greatly surprised to see the amount of change that has occurred in the little bit overnight. one might say that her flair for the dramatic has, uh, increased. suddenly, ava will straighten in her chair as though possessed and exclaim with great feeling, "I will NEVER see her again! NEVER!" and then dramatically stomp out of the room, flinging herself through the doorway. it is impressive.

and odd.

it seems to me that these changes should occur more gradually, that i should be noticing her flair for eloquent paragraphs emerge. instead it seems as though she goes to bed stating simply what she needs at that moment, or what she observes and waking with a story or two to tell, a request to make and a plea for a kitten (included in this plea was a "please, daddy? pleeaaassseee?" so sweet it nearly broke our hearts to hear it. somehow, SOMEHOW ryan's spine was intact at the end of this and he managed a, "we'll talk about this later". to him i say, well done. and also, can we, ryan? can we have a kitten? oh please?)

it is odd having a daughter who isn't a baby, or a budding toddler. i feel like, with all of this communicating going on, that i have a real child. and, with the start of preschool, i have a real child that needs to be hurried along for a class where she comes home repeating, "ah-ah-apple," and, "ah-ah-airplane" (sort of) and, "ah-ah-ava," (okay, not at all, but at least she's got some of the concept down, right?) and a carefully drawn letter A that made my heart swell with pride and i just had to show someone, i had to tell someone MY DAUGHTER CAN WRITE THE LETTER A. and then i would shake them and shout, ISN'T SHE THE MOST AMAZING 3-YEAR-OLD YOU'VE EVER HEARD OF? and they'd have to agree. not out of fear, but because just one glance at that letter would prove me right. SHE IS AMAZING.

i told ryan. i told him and i was excited and i ran out to the car to fetch the paper that clearly had her carefully written letter A on it and i brought it to ryan and then. . .i couldn't find the letter A. because guess what? she's 3. and it was her first written anything. and it didn't look all that much like an A unless some crazy super-proud mother told you it was an A.

regardless, it's on the fridge. and it's still awesome.