Thanksgiving at Home

Let me start by saying... I AM SO BUMMED THAT I DIDN'T GET A GROUP PICTURE!

Ok, now here are the ones that I did get. We hosted this year (a home with love has elastic walls!), and it was really, really fun.

The single shot I have of my beautiful daughters in their TG outfits:


Violet and Claire at the kids' table. Daphne will join them next year and Claire's little brother will take over the highchair.

Family and friends at the table, working on their Thanksgiving trivia. Each person had two trivia questions, and two trivia answers. They didn't match. Begin!

Baby's First Thanksgiving (Hi Daphne!):

Cousins with an impromptu crown craft:

The spread that spread across our whole apartment:

Wow. That's a lot to be thankful for.

Gum and Generosity

Violet had one piece of gum left. One, precious piece of Trident gum from Mimi. And without a word, of her own volition, she split it into three even parts so she could share it with Rushika and me instead of enjoying it all to herself. She was so happy to give it to us. So happy to see our reactions. So proud of her decision. Such a small item, such a big deal.

When we were in Hawaii, we went to a fair with children's game booths. Violet did the "fishing" booth and got two bracelets. But what she really wanted was to win a game and choose a prize from the prize box. The games were just too hard for her. She used all the tickets we had, but couldn't win a prize from the box. It was a heartbreaking lesson for a little girl who really wanted a prize, and a heartbreaking lesson for her parents who couldn't change the results. After just a few disappointed tears, Violet accepted that she wasn't going to win another prize. And then she slipped one of her bracelets around Daphne's ankle, dangling from the carrier, and marched off to dance to the band and ride a pony. Because if Violet was too small to win a prize, certainly Daphne was, too.

I read somewhere that you should never stifle a generous impulse in your child. Never say, "Oh no thank you honey, keep it for yourself," or "Are you sure you want to give that away?" Just sit back and let your child experience the feeling you get from giving something away.

Violet, child, you are special.

Daphne, 8 Months

8 Months Old? What? Oh, you little honey. You're so big. But you're still pretty little.


This one really looks like "Daphne" to me:

Mommy's 6:30AM workout buddy... a couple of days ago we walked 3.5 mi. to the Santa Monica Pier where we had breakfast and played at the beach playground, then rode the bus home.

Violet's First Day of Preschool

Violet Jean started preschool today, one day shy of her 3 1/2 birthday. I read a glowing review of the little preschool at our local park, so I told Violet we'd go check it out. She was thrilled. I was worried. I have been so tired. Our house has been so messy. Violet has been so restless. We needed something to change around here, but it's still so very hard to let go. Even for three hours.

We got there early, and I found the teacher in the office making copies for the day. She explained the program, talked to Violet, and invited us to come check it out. We signed up. It's on a week-to-week basis, so why not? I took Violet to the room, and she was in love. I mean really, she's been wanting this for so long. She's so articulate, she's so social. She wanted a chance to be Violet... without mommy. To "do it herself" and make her own little way in her own little world. She went to the seat that the teacher showed her, and started working on a puzzle with the assistant.

"Has she ever been away from you?" the teacher asked me.
"No," I admitted. "But I think she'll be fine."
"Ok, I just like to know what to expect. If you don't draw out your goodbye, it will probably be easier."
"Ok." I took a deep breath. "Violet, it's time for you to have a fun day at preschool! I'll be back at the end of the day to pick you up. I love you. Goodbye."
"Mommy! Wait!"
Oh no. I knew I wouldn't be able to stand tears.
"Where's my lunch?"

And that was it. She was ready. Of course that made me feel better about leaving her. Better than the poor parent who has to leave a child in hysterics. But still, I spent three hours wondering if she was ok, or if she was confused or acting out because she felt abandoned.
Three hours later I came to pick her up. She ran to greet me with a big hug and kiss, and said she had a wonderful day. The teacher said it was like she had always been there. That she only asked about me right after I left, then accepted that I would be back and went on about her day. She participated and followed directions. She even went to the bathroom by herself when she needed to. For three hours a day, four days a week, she's free to be Violet. And me? I'm free to check my email and clean the kitchen. Aaaaahhhhh.

I love you Violet. I am so proud of you and the incredible little social (and academic!) being that you are.

Happy Sixth Anniversary

From my Facebook post this year:

Happy 6th anniversary to Erik Lima: diaper-changer, trash-emptier, early-riser, baby-rocker, story-reader, bath-giver, fort-builder, bacon-bringer, dish-washer, joke-teller, long-distance-driver, and all around wonderful husband and father. I love you. You make my life fun. I wouldn't want to be struggling to raise children with anyone but you. ♥

11/6/2005
(Maybe. We can never remember our anniversary.)

I love you, Erik Lima. We (still) make a good team.