I Am Three | Mid-Month

Dear Little Miss, 

You are my best teacher. I am not always a very good student. I love you. - Mama


Monthly Stills | July 2014

July was full of many things -- vacation, fallen trees, a third birthday. 

I could write out our trip to Colorado or the tree that fell over in our front yard while we were gone, but instead, let's talk about frosting and balloons, and bounce houses, and friends.

On July 12, we celebrated Lucinda's 3rd birthday at The Vintage House. It was the perfect spot last year, so we decided to do a repeat! Dinner included bbq sandwiches, a variety of chilled salads, and an amazing cake by Angie Wong. She created a multi-layered pink ombre cake that I then attached rice paper butterflies to. Lauren Bradshaw was there to capture images from the party for us! And, the kids loved the balloons created by Kelly Potter.

We thank all our friends and family who could join us for Lu's 3rd. It was a fun, if sweaty, afternoon!

Lucinda collected over 160 new children's books to donate to Reach Out and Read Kansas City!

See all the photos here.

Lu with her many books! Yep, they're all there.

Photos by Lauren Bradshaw

Photos by Debi & Jen

Photos by Lauren Bradshaw

Photo by Aivy Malik.  Lu and Bets must have called each other and planned matching dresses!

Photos by Lauren Bradshaw.  Party favor take out boxes filled with pink & purple M&Ms; All the kids, slightly confused?

I Am Three | A Birthday Letter from Dad

Dear Lucinda,

Last year, I contemplated the “Tremendous Threes” and, as your mother mentioned elsewhere, it is clear we are well on our way. With increasing frequency we come to loggerheads about some thing or other. For whatever reason, eating dinner seems to be where we clash with the most frequency. I have no idea why; nor do I know why it is that I must always feel like the “mean” parent. Your mother tells me that at varying points (though for some reason it is only when I’m not around) she too is the mean parent. I am skeptical, but in fairness to everyone you spent a good amount of time in the not too distant past crossing your arms, huffing, and announcing to both of us that we were “being mean.”

Thankfully we appear to have nipped that off, though the huffing, which is a nicker-like raspberry, remains the clearest way you continue to demonstrate your complete distain for anything we appear to be doing.

I nevebelieved my parents when they explained to me that my punishments “hurt them more than it hurt me.” I still don’t believe it, frankly. But let me tell you, when I choose to send you to time out, it really does hurt me. It breaks my heart just a little every time. Not because you’ve done anything to hurt me, but because I feel that somehow I have failed you. Me sending you to your time out chair represents a complete collapse of creativity on my part. I have let you down because either I am too tired, or lazy, or incompetent, or dull to figure out how to advert your march to “thinking time.”

Last week several times, when I’d run out of ideas and sent you off, you decided to use the nuclear options: “I don’t care!” and “Never!” My heart almost stopped. How could I respond to that? I felt forced to resort to a Cold-War style tactic of announcing, “I don’t care that you don’t care.” However, at the last second, I choose to execute this with a goofy affectation, a silly voice. This de-escalated the standoff into a barely suppressed giggle from you. “Whew!” Who needs a Cuban Missile-like confrontation with a toddler? And lately, after you’ve “gotten yourself together,” I give you a hug and a kiss, which is a thinly veiled request on my part for your forgiveness. Thankfully, you’ve always accepted my apologies.

It used to be that I thought we were born and created in the world; I now see it differently. I remember the first time I looked at you and said your name. It was like magic. You started to crystalize, your name the final touch required to anchor to the now a soul that always has been and always will be. To me it now appears that every day is a revealing process; light added to darkness,uncovering what was already there, unknowing transforming into the possibility that we could not yet see. Each day you emerge a little more from the gloaming and show yourself to us, and we emerge from our own obscurity to see who we can become. The process is not an easy one, but as always, it is an interesting one.

Thank you and I love you.  ~ Dad

On your birthday, breakfast yogurt deserves sprinkles!

Monthly Stills | June 2014

Balmy (read: Humid and Hot) summer days are here. The month of June was filled with swim lessons, trips to the ice cream shop, celebrating Father's Day at Boulevardia, and al fresco dining in the back yard with friends. Lucinda is our big little girl and in June she seemed to be both a baby and so grown up. When we are driving somewhere, she asks from the backseat if one of us will hold her hand. Yes! Even though we have to twist our arm painfully to do so. Because what happens when she stops asking? We don't think about that now, instead we say Yes as much as we can. Yes to swimming and ice cream and tickles and painted nails and wearing mama's necklaces and daddy's shoes. Yes to painted faces, ferris wheels, and fruit like rubies on your fingers.

Summertime = Ice Cream

Kiki + Lucinda = summer love

Ferris Wheel + Daddy = nothing to fear

Boulevardia + Facepainter = making princess dreams come true

Lalo's Salon + trim + glitter spritz = a well-behaved little girl

Farmer's Market + raspberries = finger 'marshmallows'

Farmer's Market + raspberries = finger 'marshmallows'

My baby likes to swim.

My baby likes to swim.

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don’t paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I’m telling you is
Yes Yes Yes
— Kaylin Haught, God Says Yes to Me