Who knew you could cancel Halloween? Not Cecilia and her buddy Jackson. They braved snow, ice and town decrees to wait till Friday in order to swagger up to stranger’s homes and demand candy. This year we didn’t make a lot of progress in the costume department (you won’t see Tinker Bell’s wings or wand or any photo), but she did enjoy the freedom of exploring stranger’s yards and peeking in their front doors, especially if there was a dog in costume. The candy was just a nice bonus for the free home tours. Tip for grandparents and aunts and uncles: you’ll make a friend for life if you give Cecilia a glow stick.
In a strange turn of recent events, Cecilia was a model toddler this week. It was as if a Disney character invaded her body and only allowed her to speak in rays of sunshine and behave like an angel of God. It was quite refreshing from the more recent behavior perhaps best described as delusional and schizophrenic: happy and giggling one minute, squirming on the floor, peeling the paint from the walls the next. But let’s not dwell on that. Here is some Friday cuteness in an ode to a great Cece week.
Getting any sort of formal photo of a toddler isn’t easy. Add in a dog and some only passable familiarity with off camera lighting and you have the recipe for a long afternoon. Or three. It took multiple shoots, multiple days and multiple treats (for both Lola and Cece), but after a couple hundred shots we managed to get three photos for the holiday card. We have a long blooper reel. Here are a couple of my favorites. I argued long and hard for some of these to get the official endorsement, but Chelle insisted we try to remain classy. Good thing she had no veto power on the potty seat post!
A part of parenting that is much more evident once you’re on this side of the fence is how much of it is learning to let go bit by bit and let the world at large in sliver by sliver. Sometimes it’s big things like dropping them off at daycare for the first time or watching them wave goodbye from the school bus window (or so I imagine) and sometimes it’s little things like their first juice box.
Chelle and I aren’t big juice or soda drinkers. At home, it’s pretty much water or things of things derived from water: tea, coffee, cold water, whiskey, beer. And so far for Cece it’s been milk or water until at a recent friend’s birthday party someone let slip that there was more to life’s taste buds than just the bare survival essentials. There was juice! Apple juice! And it was wonderful. Like warm sunshine. Like the Rapture. Like Elmo whispering secrets in your ear.
Now on sunny days we don’t have to watch Ce’s taped caged fights for entertainment we just punch through the foil top, give her a sip and watch her ricochet around the yard like a flea on speed.
Here’s a quick video that show’s Cece in all her egg-y glory. Not sure she really understood the concept of dying eggs, but she did like rolling in the grass (and occasionally rolling over one) and finding some plastic eggs loaded with Cheerios. My one regret is missing out on getting some footage of her trying to tear the eggs apart. I was distracted playing referee between Cece and Lola. But by the grimace on her face you’d think she was trying to wrench time itself in half. Like everything she does it was very cute. At least to her parents. Just like it’s supposed to be.