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the girl

Sunday, Southside Park

Monday 16 February 2009 | 4 Comments

We are slowly creating a late-winter, Sunday afternoon ritual that is focused on swing time for the Girl. We headed to Southside Park Sunday, and as we sat there, K and I realized it was a better choice than our usual one: less crowded and closer.

The Girl was pleased, too.

Such a change from the first time we were at Southside. Still wobbly-footed and wary of being alone, she wouldn't let us out of her sight.

And naturally, we didn't want her out of our reach. Wobbles turning to dangerous tumbles -- the nightmare I continually endured at playgrounds last year. "They're made to bounce," Nana and Papa say, but my gut isn't made to bounce: it dropped every time she fell, filling my head with visions of -- well, no need to go there.

Now, when she's playing, the Girl makes the choice whether or not to play near us, and I'm only moderately paranoid. I'm sure that moderate paranoia will continue until she's in her thirties or so.

Or maybe it is a permanent fixture.

It is the flip side of the joy of seeing her smile, of hearing her laugh. It is the worry that it won't always be so. And why worry about that? Certainly she'll have her share of bruises, emotional and physical, and it's only natural that I want to protect her from them -- at least minimize the impact. Yet we learn from the pain. In theory.

L still doesn't learn from the pain. At least, she's not convinced. She knows the cat doesn't like being tugged and violently hugged, and she knows what the cat's claws are capable of, but every few days, the Girl tests the hypothesis again.

At least now the threats are visible, and the cause and cure clear.

Indeed, this is the only time that K and I can kiss the pain away. Pain floats away, removed with a kiss that is then blown into the empty distance. "Bye bye!" L says after we blow away the kiss that took away the pain.

Broken hearts and disappointment aren't so easily mended.

But with everyone playing on a cool Sunday afternoon, these thoughts drift away.

The guns are still plastic.

Dancing

Sunday 15 February 2009 | 0 Comments

The Girl has always loved dancing. As her coordination grows, so does the intricacy of some of her moves.

Occasionally she'll get a partner.

The partner is often stiff with fear.

70-300 Zoo

Monday 09 February 2009 | 0 Comments

Why are elephants seem so wise? Because it looks as if every experience is etched on their face:

Why do giraffes seem so elegant yet goofy? Lumpy, bumpy heads.

Why do baby orangutans seems so playful?

Because they are, even with empty Folgers containers.

Why does the Girl seem more and more independent? Because she is. She gets her zipper going, hops with joy, then rips off the jacket and cries, "Try 'gain!"

She's not quite this independent, but give her some time -- she'll be there before I'm ready.

She already realizes how far away she is from baby-hood.

In the Backyard

Sunday 08 February 2009 | 0 Comments

While much of the country still seems to be under snow and ice, we've had a warm spell. Spring comes early in South Carolina, with temperatures already in the mid-60s. It's likely to cool back down, but for now, we're enjoying the warmth.

Such a change from the last group of pictures from this time of year. L requires a larger and larger arc on the swing to provide the same satisfaction. "Higher" she can now ask, and I wonder how much longer we can even use this swing. Certainly this will be the swing's last spring.

And yet there are plans for the replacement, and a tree house in the same area. "In a few years," K says, but those few years will melt faster than the single snowfall we experienced here (in January of '07).

The little girl, evident in this picture, will quickly replace the lingering lines of baby, and before we know it, she'll be talking about having a tree house.

The Girl’s Room

Monday 02 February 2009 | 1 Comment

We moved into our house eighteen months ago, with grand visions of how we were going to upgrade, remodel, and improve -- and the understanding that would take years.

Many of our accomplishments are sort of like the ASP I would write during my brief stint in IT: no one on the outside has any idea what's going on under the hood, so to speak. We're remodeled closets, replaced plumbing, added insulation, installed new windows, installed a new door, fixed every single faucet in the house, changed some of the outlets, and a handful of other projects. Except for the door and windows, the rest is invisible.

We're not even finished with the initial decoration, though we're one room closer as of today. The Girl's room is almost done: two more rugs to buy and a couple of pictures to hang.

K finished the curtains this weekend, with a little help from our friend.

The result:

Three 10mm, f/8 exposures: 1/2 sec, 1 sec, and 2 secs.

Perhaps the best part: L loves her room. She loves sitting at her table, putting together puzzles (which, at this age, means instructing one of us to put them together, or better yet, Papa), coloring, having a snack -- anything. We return home and she immediately asks me to accompany her to "pie-ku," her L-ese version of "pokoj," or "room" in Polish.

Talking to Babcia

Sunday 01 February 2009 | 3 Comments

When I was a teenager, I was infatuated with a girl who lived in Idaho; I lived in Virginia at the time. We spent a fortune on postage and the occasional phone call.

I can't help but wonder how that would have transpired in today's wired world, where L can show babcia in Poland what she's drawn.

If anything, the relationship would have burned out sooner, I'm sure.

Puzzling Papa, Puzzling L

Tuesday 27 January 2009 | 0 Comments

Nana and Papa came over, ostensibly to visit the family, but everyone knows who the main attraction is.

First, Papa had to help L with her puzzle. The Girl can't quite manage the puzzle by herself, but with some help, she can put it together in a few minutes. Then it's always the same: "Try again!"

Next, bubble time, and here's where the fun really began. As is often the case, Nana and Papa came bearing a gift: a new Tinker Bell jacket, with a flashing lights the illuminate Tink's pixie dust when pressed. We hung it in the closet so L could get to it, and every so often, she would run over and give Tink a press. Papa decided to play a little trick on the Girl. Every time she activated the lights, Papa blew some bubbles from the small buble maker.

L almost caught him in the act a few times.

Tricking her, though, is getting more and more difficult. And talking about her while she's there is impossible: she understands just about everything now, and a quiet "Should we take her for a bath now?" can elicit loud protests: "No baff! No!"

Georgia Aquarium, Redux

Monday 19 January 2009 | 2 Comments

About a year ago, when Dziadek was visiting, we went to the aquarium. The "we" consisted only of Dziadek and me, as the Girl was sick and K was exhausted.

Yesterday, we tried it again.

"Big fish! Big fish!" the Girl chanted the whole day, excited from the moment she woke up.

The drive to Atlanta was excruciating for the Girl. "Big fish! Big fish!" The time spent in Ikea was torturous -- "Big fish! Big fish!" -- until we got to the children's area. Heading out to the car was accompanied by -- well, you can probably guess.

Finally, we got to Big Fish Land:

She was initially a little nervous about the whole prospect. It was MLK Day weekend, and the crowd was stifling. Add to it the intensity of the experience and the general darkness in all the exhibits, and it's easy to see how a little girl might be a bit nervous at first.

She found her bearings soon enough, though, and was soon found everything fascinating, especially the crocs:

Finally, the croc book we read comes alive!

For some time, L was more interested in the stairs than anything else, much to the probable irritation of a number of people.

The trip home was filled with excited stories about whom we saw. "I L fish, i Mama fish, i Tata fish!"

When we got home and set up L's new easel, one might guess what she wanted to draw.

But that guess would be wrong.

More images at our Flickr Georgia Aquarium set.

Fore!

Friday 09 January 2009 | 0 Comments

The Girl is learning to golf.

School's In — 1/60, f/5, 10 mm, flash off ceiling

The crocadile sits at the end of the rug, patiently awaiting its feeding, but the Girl is more interested in directing everyone else to shoot. And of course Baby gets pointers, too.

Our Zoo

Monday 05 January 2009 | 0 Comments

I was always a pack-rat growing up. I think it's genetic, or maybe not. I do know Nana saved a lot of my toys through the year, and the Girl has finally started playing with some of them. My old animal collection.

She's excited about being able to recognize animals -- sometimes in Polish, sometimes in English -- and she enjoys telling us what various animals say.

This is also a "sometimes in Polish, sometimes in English" thing, for Polish dogs say "how how" (spelled phonetically in English) whereas American dogs say "woof-woof." Pigs here say "oink oink" whereas their Polish counterparts say "kwee kwee" (again, spelled phonetically in English). When we ask her, "Co mowi swinka?" she replies "kwee kwee!"; to "What does a pig say?" she'll respond "oink oink." That differentiation is a recent development, and it's only one of many little linguistic markers she's passing. She's connected "kupic" ("buy") and stores, so every time we pass a store, she says, in her wonderful mixed-up fashion, "Tata, mamma, kupi clementine." Now she's branching out: "Mama, kupi malinki i grapes."

In short, she's really coming to the understanding that she's learning two languages. The other day, she said to K, "Mamma, bug!" K, not making out what she said, asked, "Co?" ("What"). "Pajak," she replied, specifying not only animal but genus: spider.