Sheeeeeeeee's Up!

Our little crawler is now a stander and budding cruiser! Go, baby, go!

At the conclusion of most naps, we sneak in to see Natalie standing up in her crib, hands tightly grasping the railing. She announces her awakening with song, now accompanied by the thunderous rattle of her crib shaking exercise. She boogies and bangs!

The first pic I took with the flash:



Cute subjects, but the picture is a little cruddy. But when I tried to capture it without the flash, it ended up like this:



Curse you, little kids always moving! Blurry and all, this one's pretty cute:



And, to wrap up, a final one of the muscle-clad cutie-pie:

Vroom, Vroom!

Natalie's got a ticket to rii-ide, and she don't care!

(For a funny "misheard lyrics" version of this tune, see here.)



We brought down Leah's old car, or "bus" as she called it, and let Natalie have a go on it. She sat more evenly on it than I thought she would and enjoyed being pushed around on it by Leah. In the picture below, you can see her little tongue sticking out as she was making car noises. When we stood her up on the back end of it, she really liked that as it gave her a chance to stand and do her little boogie. She took a couple of shaky steps with it as well, so I fear it won't be too long before she'll be trading in her training wheels for a set of baldies.



For whatever reason, she looked so big riding this car. Is this the same little squirmer that I woke up with at odd hours in the night?

Suddenly the gravity hits the girls too. Whoa.

Y!IMBY!

That stands for: Yes! In My Back Yard! And by "back yard" I mean about two miles from my front door. I am stupefied by the fact that I have never before last week seen this part of Madison.



I had been to the UW-Arboretum three and a half years ago when Leah fit facing me in the Bjorn, and we walked the prairie bit close to the noisy beltline in chilly September. It was grassy, wide open, and everything was calling it quits for the season. I was nonplussed.

I had visited the Arb again about a year ago, grabbing a fast food lunch with Leah when Matthew was out of town, and eating it in the van in the parking lot of visitors' center. (That's how the old folks do it in England.)

Then, last week, after an appointment on the east side of the Arboretum, I took the scenic route through the park and slowed waaaay down to take in the roadside beauty. It was so woodsy! I spied a parking lot and bookmarked it in my brain for later that week.

Later turned into now and the girls and I packed up, drove up, and dove in. On the way to the parking lot we saw three big turkeys ambling by the road, and as soon as I turned off the car, we were surrounded by bird song. I put Nad-O in the backpack, slid the camera into my pocket, and grabbed Leah's hand, ready for our adventure.



Ten yards in, I was near breathless. I'm not that out of shape even with a baby on my back. No, I was just jointly floored by how beautiful it was and by how stupid I've been for never having seen this part of it before. I told Leah to keep her talking to a minimum and then to speak in a soft voice so that we could enjoy the sounds of the woods. She did better than me as I was soon pointing out various tree saplings, lichens, moss, deer tracks, a sapsucker's rattle, and how squishy a rotten log was. We approached a pair of mallards who patiently watched us pass by. We braved a wobbly boardwalk to reach a bog overlook filled with everything green, muddy, and froggy. We hiked up little hills, Leah explaining to me how her energy works. And we rested on a large, flat overlook that I later learned was positioned to view several burial mounds. It was all so lovely!

Those of you Madisonians reading this are probably yawning by now. "Yeah, yeah," you're saying. "The Arb is cool and you're a fool for not having seen it before. Get with the times, already."



I'm sorry. It was such a perfect moment for me and the girls. It was the perfect day, the perfect place, and had Matthew been there too, it would have been perfect, perfect, perfect. We're going back tomorrow. ;)

Photo Art by Miss L.B.

Point and Click cameras rock my socks, even more so since they are easy-sneezy enough for a three year old to operate. ("eazy-sneezy" you like that? I just made it up.) Whenever I bust out the camera, Leah asks to snap a few pics herself. Most often, she is not allowed to touch the machine, but every so often, I let her have at it.



Her ratio of good to completely obscure photos is close to 1:20, but that's not bad considering she has a hard time depressing the shutter button and stands only just over three feet tall. I took the first photo here, but these two are hers.

I like knowing she can make Natalie smile like this:



And I love the simple and almost monochromatic feel of this one:



Leah's work behind the camera reminds me of the time when Matthew's young cousin nabbed one of the disposable cameras at our wedding reception. One roll of film was filled with more smiling portraits than anyone else's. When I finally noticed that everyone in the pictures was looking downward, I realized that the photos had been taken by someone short - most likely a kid. Then, I got found the "Rosetta Stone" photos: a pair of photos from two different rolls, each of the photographer photographing the other. So in Rebecca's roll, there was a picture of little Hannah taking a picture of Rebecca, and vice versa. Ta-da. I love it.

I am thankful for the delete button and the fact that we have almost limitless card space on the camera. Leah's eye for details is uniquely hers and her photos help me to understand her world at least a little bit better. Say, "Cheese!"

Maybe I'll Stick to Paper

Leah's latest fascination is big cats: lions, tigers, cheetahs, leopards, etc. She's crazy about Disney's "The Lion King" having seen the dvd three or four times and having pored over a junior graphic novel summarizing the story. She updates us with a running list of big cat-related items she wants for her birthday. And she likes to pretend she's a semi-ferocious feline as she prowls the floor, growling and sneaking nibbles on your pant legs.

So, it wasn't surprising when she quickly spotted a tiger-stripe print fabric at Ben Franklin's last week. Being the Crafterall that I am, I made designs to make my sweetheart her very own stuffed tiger. How hard can it be?

I snagged this tutorial for a cat, printed the pattern, expertly cut the fabric, and began sewing, all under the watchful and approving eye of Miss L.B. A couple of hours later, Leah happily holds her new tiger, and I try in vain to stifle my laughter.

In this pic, the finished object looks cute enough:



And even here, it looks fairly passable as a legitimate plaything:



But upon a more intimate look, you can plainly see how awful this thing really looks (Insert "Psycho" theme here):



This tiger was obviously affected by some greenhouse gases or some such tragedy. Poor thing.



Leah, ever-patient and appreciative, and still in love with cats, took the lil' fella in her arms with promises of unconditional love. She even gave him the gift of "life" for any toy by naming him. Her choice is more than appropriate and continues to crack me up when I think of it.

She named him Floppy.