summer fun, kid's books, and role-play

Every weekend in August, Lilly and I have been getting out for some summer fun. We've been to the Walker Art Center, the Como Park Zoo, the Children's Museum; to a fun day event for my job at Laura Baker, the nature center in Faribault, and more.

A couple weekend's in a row, Lilly and I stopped in at Garrison Keillor's Common Good Books to read kid's books and found a really great new picture book that I'd recommend called The Woods. Actually, Lilly and I often stop in at the Wild Rumpus children's bookstore but have just recently visited The Red Balloon Bookshop for children too. I think these stops to "read books" are more for me than her (as might be the case for all the other stops elsewhere) because Lilly really just enjoys being out and about doing new things wherever.

Here's a video of Lilly "role-playing" at the Walker Arts Center; that is, learning to wield a sword, something I was a bit hesitant to have her do. But, while she did want to "hit" things with it for about a week afterward, the fun has apparently waned.

Band-Aids

Quite a while ago we got some "Hello Kitty" Band-Aids. Lilly became a bit obsessed with these and wanted a plaster (band-aid) even if she didn't have a scrap or cut. Come to think of it, she's rarely had to use a band-aid because of a scrap or cut. Almost right away I figured this was going to be an expensive game to play, so it seemed like an opportunity to get craftsy and make our own band-aids with paper and crayons and tape...

Lilly then became obsessed with this, so we I spend a lot of time these days designing our own band-aids...

Lilly makes movies

Last Saturday, Lilly and I spent the day in the city while mama got some time to work. It was the frist Saturday of the month, which is the Walker Art Center's "Free First Saturday" with family programs geared toward kids: the theme this time happened to be "Going to the Movies." The main activity was in two parts, 1) make a clay figure and 2) have it animated in stop motion. Lilly was a bit too young to participate in this without help from papa. When asked if she'd like to make "Frosty" out of clay she said yes, so I made with a version from the materials we were given; and when after waiting for quite a long while in line it came time to animate, I tried to get her to help as much as possible by having her stick letters to the backdrop and push the car along. Unfortunately the art center didn't think of offering to send these animations via email so kids and parents could enjoy later. But I took a video with our digital camera, which I've cut and looped on iMovie!



Lilly and I will be spending more time together now that Anne is working more mornings. Today, along with other arts and crafty things, we made another movie! First we made a drawing of "Old MacDonald" and his animals, which we then took a video of while singing the song. And finally I've imported it onto iMovie to cut a few clips together, but haven't got it finished to upload onto YouTube. It's silly, really, but it was something to do.

sjokolademelk

Lilly is a big fan of chocolate milk just like me! Anne has frowned upon this, which is understandable. After all, neither of us want to raise a sweet tooth. But, really, Lilly doesn't eat many sweets. Our house is basically a sweet-free zone. No regular desserts, no candies. Only occasionally do we have ice cream, in which case we make it a family thing: Chubby Hubby for mama, Phish Food for papa, and a good vanilla for Lilly. And occasionally Lilly and I share a yummy, gooey, freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, in which case I consider it father-daughter bonding. The same goes for chocolate milk. I think Anne has come to see it this way too (the photographer's eye tells all?!). Anne took many, many photos of Lilly and I drinking chocolate milk after carving and decorating our pumpkins for Halloween. Viewing all the photos together, I could see that she had captured the joy of our father-daughter bonding (heightened, to be sure, by the festive atmosphere at the time). Here are two of my favorites.

papa?

I haven't noticed too much of a difference in Lilly with Leighton being gone, except her heightened level of independence. She does love to Skype with him, and will say "papa?" when she sees the phone or computer, especially the computer, when she'd like to see and Skype with him.

But this afternoon, before we headed out for our errands, we were having a little snack (a latte: Lilly likes the foam..., some banana and grapes), it cleared up a little outside, and I said: look, how nice! But this confused Lilly; maybe I had the same voice as when I tell her, look, papa is home. So she looked out through the porch door where we'll see Leighton return home on his bike, park it in the garage, and then come to the house. She lifted the sheers aside and asked "papa?" with anticipation in her voice. When I said no, not now, but tomorrow, her lip started shivering, she looked as if she'd cry. I explained, first we need to eat dinner, then sleep, and then papa will be here (that's not entirely true, since he returns later in the day, but I was trying to make the concept of time somewhat more tangible). She looked out again, pointed, "papa?" lip still trembling. It was so heartbreaking!

I started wondering then if maybe her wiredness has also been a result of less groundedness at home now, what with Leighton gone. That it feels different to her, unntakstilstand. Which allows for some wacko behavior. Who knows. Maybe it is also just being sick and overtired.

Leighton's flight is schedule to arrive tomorrow, Thursday, at 3:32 p.m. Which should bring us all home around 5 p.m. for dinner (I'm making Mexican, Leighton's favorite, I think).

Update: due to snow in Oslo, Leighton's flight was delayed and he's been rerouted, won't come home till very late this evening. Hopefully he can spend the night at his uncle Blake & Rick in Bloomington and then we'll come get him tomorrow (Friday) morning.

life with Lilly

I love this picture, I've set it as my desktop background. Lilly looks like a little thief: the striped shirt, the profile, the "caught with her hand in the cookie jar" look, without the telling, knowing look on her face. She wasn't doing anything, really, just playing with the cables behind the entertainment center; I was trying to get a portrait shot of her when she turned to grab the cables like the curious, wants-everything girl she is. Plus the picture shows off her beautifully-shaped head, which looked just the same the second she came out into this world; her cheeks and chin and nose, too, aren't they cute.

I love my daughter, though a times she can be trying. She has her phases. But I figure it's me that needs to shape up and be a better papa, those times I feel a twitch of grumpiness fluttering up through my chest, coming to rest in tense knots on my shoulders and neck.

Now she loves to play at this and that: so long as we play with her. It's the impression. She does play on her own quite often, runs off into the other room with her sack full of goodies and her box or whatever new toy she's found. But when she does want you to play with her you have to do it her way and be fully attentive, not off on some daydream about that book you've been meaning to write, or that thesis you better damn well get around to. If you aren't nearly 100 percent, she'll call you on it. Then she gets grumpy or looses interest in any one activity after a second or two: she wants the computer, the keys, the wallet, a pen; she wants to watch her DVD or play with the photo magnets on the fridge or dump her water on the ground so she can wipe it up dry.

Sometimes I feel like it's a lot. To be at that level for four hours, say, it's hard to keep my head in it. But I always get sentimental (after the grumpy, tense part) and think about how it's all the time I've got with her and I better make the most of it; she's going soon, or worse, she's already gone and she wants nothing to do with me. I can't get enough of her. Give me Lilly 24/7, I think, it'll be the best thing I do all day.

It's OK to be bored. It's not always meant to be fun: as I've said, it's trying, tense; it's up sometimes, and other times it's down. It's gonna be that way. It's everything I could want and more, if I just "be" there with her, be there with her and feel life chugging at its long choo-choo ride: across the plains and the mountains, the expanse bridge across the gully below; through the rundown town in the middle of nowhere, the busy city, industrial rail yard, wherever; underneath the ocean and out again on the other side, we come to this place where the sun-filled sky colors the green grass on a mound of earth, I stand there with my daughter at my side--she's always that small, always that big--just the right size so I can rest my palm on her crown of baby soft hair, as we look out together at the rest of that beautiful life in front of us, surrounding us. I'm OK with the occasional boredom. And I can order a massage. Sure I'll get gray hairs, and in fact I already have. It's all what I'm in for, and I'll take it one day at a time, at a time, for as long as I can.

Enough of that rant, you say, give us more pictures and be done with it. Granted. I leave you with this: our precious Lilly, during her favorite pre-bedtime ritual--tonight she even said it, bade, a look of pure delight--bathtime!

Something about fatherhood

Just a quick post since I should be working. Lilly is 11 months today. Almost 1 year. Which is hard to believe, time goes by so quickly. I've been thinking about fatherhood. I've been thinking back on everything. Trying to remember what it was like before Lilly, that's to say waiting for Lilly.

Recently I read a friend's blog post in which he was complaining about baby books for fathers-to-be. I recognized the picture he had posted of The Guy's Guide, which is mostly crap. In response I posted a comment:

The best advice I was given, which wasn't advice, really, but just something to turn around in my head before and especially after the birth and even now at almost one year, was from a friend: he said to me, Get ready for a whole new kind of love. And it's true. At least for me. Another thing, which I heard on NPR, and on a totally unrelated topic, was that parenting is the hardest job, and it's given to amateurs. This provided a little breathing room. And finally, in a book I received from my father about fathers and daughters, you know, one of those gift books with quotes, I read something like this: The hardest part of parenting is letting your hopes for you child outweigh your fears. There you have it.

There's no telling what advice is best for fathers (or for mothers). Really it's different for all. Of course. Some like funny, some like facts, others like tips and others timetables (please excuse the alliteration). Anyway, the point being... Is there a point to all this?

I just thought I'd share. What has been the most remarkable thing about becoming a father is that whole new kind of love: that ever-expanding love I feel for my daughter. I am forever grateful and happier for it.

Lilly and papa

Lilly and I spent our first night together without Anne! Wow! Big news!

Anne was out with a friend and then crashed on the couch. Lilly and I went for a walk, watched Drømmehagen, ate dinner, played with her toys, danced to the radio, and Lilly got a bath. Although she wasn't ready for bed at first and we had to go back out into the living room to burn off extra energy, Lilly finally fell asleep and slept until almost midnight. After that we were up, off and on: Lilly got some gas and had to poo on the potty, and she was a bit restless because we ran out of milk. But then she slept for a few hours straight, before waking up sometime between six and seven: when I woke up she was sitting on her knees, watching me, waiting to play. I was very tired but exited that we made it through the night together. So yay!

Anne and Lilly are napping now. I've been updating the photo links, so check them out: new pics on the Norway IV album; a new album from our trip to Eidfjord; and, just so you know, another new album coming soon.