Time for Some Pictures

We discovered a really great playground in walking distance from our house. Aria is never super-eager to go there, but then never wants to leave. (Actually, she has a similar thing going on that I had when I was a kid: she doesn't like to change states. She doesn't like to have a bath, but once in it, doesn't want to get out. I was exactly the same way. I don't understand it, but I get it. Naming it that way helped her Mom get what's going on, too.)

This is a really great time in our lives together. Really, really great. Some of her perceptions are so much deeper than her 3 years, and then the next thing she says is the epitome of being a kid. When she's saying something, she strives so hard to be understood, and she won't rest until she is, even if that means she needs to bend our own meanings to get there.

A Vector Has Both Direction and Magnitude

We recently tried to go to Chapters, one of Aria's favourite places to be, but she was having a very whiny day, and just as we were getting there it escalated to the point where we decided (with a warning and an ultimatum) that we were not going there after all. Everyone in the parking lot (if not the city!) was made aware of her despondent disappointment.

Because we're such good parents, we recognised that part of her emotional condition was probably due to hunger, a diagnosis she didn't seem to instantly agree with. We couldn't reason with her, so we decided a new tack: give her the opportunity to express an opinion. When we asked her where she wanted to go to eat, she said in her most forlorn, chin-on-chest tone: "A coffee shop."

That kind of took me back. "A coffee shop!? What kind of coffee shop?"

She answered, still in the same woe-is-me voice: "The kind of coffee shop that has a Chapters next to it."

Well, She's Got the Principles Down

At the point of leaving, someone specifically thanked Aria for having them over. I asked Aria "What do you say?" She shyly turned her big eyes to me, obviously in over her depth, and said:

"Do I say 'congratulations'?"

Little Miss Manners

We're working on the niceties of life with our daughter. She's not even three, and she's started to ask politely for things the first time, to apologise when there's some kind of contravention, and to excuse herself about bodily functions. After supper tonight, she emitted a cute little belch, and started to laugh about it.

In my stern fatherly voice, I said: "What do you say?"

She paused, her eyes sparkled, and in a long, growlly fake-burp, she said "Exxcuuusse mmeee."

The Games We Play

I've gotten Aria to play a game with me.

I ask: "Are you my x. Are you my y." Where x and y are the most random objects I can think of at the moment. She inevitably answers no to both of those, with a growing smile.

After that I ask: "Then, what are you?"

And she answers: "I'm your special girl!"

(She pronounces it "spessle" which is just the best!)

At which point I affirm her: "You are my special girl!"

After she went to bed tonight, and was quiet for about half-an-hour, I suddenly heard her voice from the crib talking to her doll, or Etton, or an imaginary friend:

"Are you my house...? Are you my bedroom...? ...Right, you are my spessle girl!"

We did some pictures with a friend for Kiss of Light, but Aria couldn't resist being a part of the action. These are shot in our basement garage at our condo. It's the second time I've done that -- it's a great spot for this kind of thing, something that I've just gotta use more. The only drawback is that it's a little chilly (hence our little girl's parka), but it really wasn't that bad (that parka is overkill on pretty much any day here).

We got a few raised eyebrows with the whole get-up in a dusty garage, but that's part of the fun, right?

And specifically for Dad who just stated that you can't trust any picture these days, there is no post processing at all on these images. Zero.

It Snowed Today...

Aria's been in the snow today three times. I think she's getting a kick out of it -- it seems like it's the first snow she remembers. She loves this snow suit, and surprised me by being able to put it on all by herself -- well 95%. Her ability matches her determination.

Anyway, she even worked with me on these pictures, walking over to play at this entrance gate. It's been a while since she's wanted to do pictures, so I'll take what I can get. She loves that we have pictures of her on the computer, but isn't always in the mood to have the camera pointed at her.

Stages

We were sitting around the staffroom, and my colleagues were talking about their kids finding places to live, offering counsel to struggling friends and acquaintances, and other impressively mature things. I admitted that we are in different stages of life, because we're celebrating that Aria is toilet-trained.

And for us, that is big news!

We discovered it sort of by accident when we stopped putting diapers on her! She now only wears a diaper when she sleeps at night (even 3hr naps are fine!), and sometimes that's even dry the next morning. This is credit to her -- we weren't pushing, she was just ready.

Her style of warning is dramatic enough to head off accidents too. She doesn't say "I may have to pee in the near future..." or "I need to pee, right now". She says "I'm peeing!!" That doesn't mean she is, but it sure gets a reaction. :-)

Some Memorable Lines

We were among family for dinner, and Aria suggested that we listen to music, which she calls 'musit'. (The CD player was right near her chair, so it seemed natural to her). Her Mom told her that we're talking and it wasn't time to listen to music. She thought about that while conversation continued around her, and then piped up again, slightly louder:

"How about if nobody talks, then we can listen to musit."

Nanna and Opa were baby-sitting when Deb and I went out to Dinner for Schmucks (we really enjoyed it!). In order to prepare her for bed-time, they started to ask if Etton (her blue elephant buddy) was getting tired. Finally Aria told them:

"Etton's not tired but Aria is."

Listen to the Whole Thing -- There Will be a Quiz!

Just kidding. We thought we'd let you in on what turned out to be the longest conversation that Aria and I have ever had. It turned out to be pretty circular, and rambling, and a bunch of other things typical of a 2yr old whose primary fighting sleep. But it's undoubtedly cute.

Keep in mind, that this is well after our nightly routine, and Aria and I are pretty much in the total dark. She just started talking and talking, and was obviously in good spirits, so I grabbed the mp3 recorder and captured some of it. We started a good 15mins before, and ended a fair amount of time after.

Listen at will -- I expect there will be very few that put the whole ~45mins into it, but if you do, you'll be rewarded with the semi-coherent ramblings of a two-year old, and two attempts at a lullaby by her father. She is soundly asleep now, believe it or not.

Click here to download.

It's Been Too Long. Like Always...

It seems like it's always too long between picture sessions. She's really starting to exhibit her personality. Meaning that among other things, she refuses to settle down for pictures. I had one idea that she absolutely refused to cooperate with. But she has lots of moments of her own accord.

Cute Phrases

I wish I could remember what I was asking Aria to do. I think it was put on her shoes, or pick up a toy. Something trivial and within her abilities. Her response:

"Um..no-later-soon."

Deb asked for a kiss yesterday. Aria is quite often affectionate and cuddly, but she knows her own mind and will not allow it if she's not in the mood. (We've even taught her "I'm not in the mood," which is super-cute coming from her.) Anyway after being asked for a kiss, she said:

"Um...no -- too late!" and she promptly flounced away.

She's using 'um' a lot, which is just hilarious. And her use of idioms is also funny, particularly because they often come accidentally well-timed.

Catch-Up Part 2

Here are some more. Blogger was fighting me -- maybe it didn't want so many pictures in one post? Or my pictures were just too good? Or my daughter is simply too cute? Yeah, that's probably it.At a Christmas photoshoot -- Aria was clowning around, and especially loved hiding behind her sippy cup. What an expressive face!
This is her first recorded 'put on' smile. It didn't take long for it to change to a real smile as her Mom and I lost it.
With these, I set up the lights in front of a Christmas tree. But with the way I shot these, you can hardly tell that that's what it is. And now that I'm posting these at the end of March, that's a good thing! :-)

Finally, Some Catch-Up!

Some Recent Stuff

I know that I promised some catch-up, but that isn't what this is about. This is more current stuff. Aria is still learning new stuff every day, and developing her own way of expressing herself (always welcome when it's more words than whining). Some of her phrases are hilarious, some of them are remarkably insightful -- often they're both.

Aria's best friend is a little (lot!) more adventurous and daring than she is. She's really uncertain with the swing, holding on carefully and needing some reassurance. He pretty much launches himself around like Superman. Here he's giving Deb a double high-five -- look Mom no hands!

Aria during family portraits

We had a friend do family portraits for us a few months ago, and during a break I took my camera out. I particularly like this one.

We'll be doing picture catch-up soon

We've got a huge backlog of pics to post to this blog (autumn, Christmas, etc.). We're working on getting a faster computer and more hard-drive space to process all of these. In the meantime, here's some from today.

The Beginning of a Great Year

While at work, I got a call from Deb because Aria was asking for me. I could hear Aria in the background interjecting things as Deb and I talked. ("Daddy? Hi Daddy!") We had a rather extended conversation, whereupon Deb announced that they were going to have lunch ("Yeah!") and then Aria was going to have a nap ("No!"). When we were about to hang up, Deb said "Say bye-bye, Daddy." Aria tried, but stammered. It came out something like "Ba da bye da". Which prompted me to say "Bye-bye belly button." She wound up for a second go: "Bye-bye--" and then she interrupted herself laughing; it had suddenly dawned on her that what I said was silly. I think today marks the first day she's ever got a purely verbal joke. If this is an indication of where this year is going, it's going to be amazing!

Awia, Where-Go?

At our church's Christmas banquet tonight, Aria was out of my sight for a solid 20mins. Deb and I were spelling each other off throughout the evening, and because she was deep in conversation with some friends, I suddenly realised that neither of us had really been watching her for a while. I asked Deb where she'd seen her last, and she told me that she was playing the piano. That's where I found her.

She was playing the keyboard and singing all by herself, for at least 15 minutes. This despite the fact that the keyboard wasn't even switched on! She's quite the inventive musician -- I can't wait to hear like what all that music in her head actually sounds like!

When I got close, she gave me a big grin. She posed for the camera, hopped down off the bench to have me show her the pictures, and then hopped back up to play/pose some more. We're still kinda big fans of hers.

Precious Moment

Tonight we all went to the beach. It was a clear, chilly, wintry evening (which means it was probably about 3 degrees or so, but we're not rubbing that in to anyone). Aria was enjoying looking at the lights on the drive there (we didn't go a very direct route just for her sake). She used to call them "nitch" or "neech", but has graduated to calling them "nightsh". She loves them! She was excited to be seeing them up close as we got out of the car. "Nightsh? Nightsh? Nightsh!" We started off on the sidewalk, looking for a restaurant for supper -- the beach has a large selection of great ones -- when a sudden gust picked up. We all kind of gasped as it cut through our hoodies and fleeces, and even the blanket I was carrying Aria in.

When it hit its peak, pelting us with dust, dirt and very small rocks, she closed her eyes, ducked her head, and said "Bye-bye nightsh," and promptly buried her face into my shoulder, cuddling in tight. Priceless!