there's fishing, and then there's fishing

In recent days, my dad has been taking me to the lake to fish. (Please do not tell my PETA friends.) I am a very compassionate fisherman though. Since time is precious in this process, I quickly cuddle the fish, kiss them, and tell them "it's alright little fishy" before tossing them back into the lake to be free and happy.

My dad marvels at the quantity of fish we catch. I might be good luck. And, since he has never done any real fishing, he thinks these little runts are something to brag about.

My mom laughs at us. It's not real fishing unless what you catch is bigger than a toddler. This is Scott, my mom, and Heather in the early 1970s. Now that is a fish worth catching.

sneak peek

This photo is from the series taken at my school this fall. Somehow the photographer managed to get me to sit still and smile. Unfortunately, my barber was on vacation the week before and week of school photos. We briefly considered seeing someone else just that one time but barber loyalty is highly important. My mom was trying to keep these photos secret (not even my dad has seen how cute they are) but this one is too perfect not to share right away. 

My mom wrote extensive Christmas card procedures for my dad. Now we just wait for him to compile his part of the list (deadline is Saturday) and, from there, we will print photos and get cards ready. Check your mailboxes after December 10.

Once we get Thanksgiving out of the way, we will turn our attention to my whirlwind month of December. I have tickets for the Polar Express train ride. Countless birthday parties to attend. Cocktail parties. A luncheon and skating party at the country club. What else?

Since Trinity and Hector are enjoying Thanksgiving in the northwest, we will have a quiet Thanksgiving. My mom even suggested to my dad that he bbq his meat of choice. She presented this as something that would greatly benefit him but, really, she didn't want to make a four-course meal for just us when none of us really like Thanksgiving food anyhow. My mom is making quiche for me; earlier in the week I opened the fridge and had a bit of a tantrum since we had no leftover quiche. WHAT??? No quiche in the fridge!??? What is this world coming to?

Our menu includes roasted garlic on ciabatta, salad, quiche, mashed potatoes, cranberries, bbq chicken for my dad / bbq veggie hotdogs for me and my mom (what's more American than that?), and chocolate pecan pie for dessert. best pie ever. We started the pie already since my mom saw no point in not having some for dessert last night.

Capitol

After almost two months of courtship, my mom was convinced to work for the legislature during the upcoming session. We are not really sure why any of us thought this was a good idea. But the work has started.

My mom is forbidden from talking about the specific details of her work but did you know that legislators do not write their own bills? Ask my mom anything you want about issues such as surface mining, anthropogenic carbon dioxide storage trust funds, or the rate at which fireworks are taxed. Her brain is now littered with information that must have mattered to someone at some time for some reason.

Instead of our afternoons being filled with reading and playing and napping like before, we are juggling our schedules and trying in vain to make it all fit together. I have joined Casita and now stay at school until 5:30. My transition (and only mine) has gone smoothly; I started napping on the very first day - much to everyone's surprise. (And my mom is really suffering without her afternoon nap. No number of iced lattes can replace sleep.) Even though I tell my mom I cry about her when I am at Casita, the truth is that I love it. I enjoy having lunch with my friends, followed by a nap, and then two hours of outdoor play. Six of the ten children in my class now go to Casita. And my regular teacher is the nap helper so she rubs my back while I nod off. Then she sings to me when I wake up. Casita has helped to regulate my sleep schedule. I am ready for bed by 8:00 and this is a huge improvement for a night owl like me.

The worst part though is the commute. Rush hour has become considerably more intense than what you see in the photo below.

garden day

Garden day was originally scheduled for a Saturday back in early October but in typical alarmist Austin style, it was cancelled due to an expected heavy rain that never happened. Finally, today, the most ambitious of children in my class convened to perfect our outdoor environment. My good friend Samuel and I started the day by building a raised bed (with just a bit of help from his dad). Later in the day, we shoveled 220 pounds of soil into it and then planted jasmine, tri-color sage, day lilies, Mexican petunias etc. Notice my fancy new shovel! At the very beginning of the day, there was much negotiation over who would wear which gloves and use which garden tools. My shovel was popular but I had to part with it for a short time to wear Isabella's lovely pink gloves.

In the front of the cottage, we let the parents do some of the work. To make room for lavender, lantana, columbine, and other flowering plants that will grow huge come spring, my dad removed a towering cypress tree (which we brought home and planted in the very center of the front yard and now we have to wonder how that will factor into our baseball, soccer, and football games). We also had dozens of bulbs from the prized collection of a famous iris breeder that we planted all around. After everything was planted, Pragya and I watered. And watered. We are all hoping for a good soaking rain.

I am excited for the rest of my friends to come back to school on Monday to see all of the good work we did. While I don't want to wish the school year away, it will be interesting to see how everything grows and blooms in the spring.

Speaking of school, this is what my classroom looks like, sans the ten toddlers who normally occupy it. I so love the orderly nature of the Montessori classroom.

After hauling away all of the compost, recycling, and trash, I stole a few minutes to turn myself upside down on the monkey bars.

14-12

Many thanks to my good wishes, the Seahawks won what is being touted as the weirdest ending in NFL history. (No, I did not violate the media policy to watch football.) And even more thanks to my good wishes and the fact that I wore my special shirt on my evening walk, my mom won her first and only bet thus far of the season.

And the play on the field stands as called.

I just hope Mike didn't give up on our beloved Seahawks and leave the game early!



Note: I had to crop my dad out of this photo because he was saying thumbs down to my team. Censorship at its finest.

lazy Sunday

We are excited that fall is here. And the mornings have finally felt like fall. We are getting back to being able to spend our weekends how we best like them: my dad and I take a long walk in the morning while my mom makes something hearty and warm for our breakfast. Then it is nap time. 

My dad and I pretty much wanted to sleep the entire afternoon away. My mom tried for hours and hours and even more hours to wake us up. My dad was only interested in getting out of bed if my mom made cookies for us. We didn't have all of the ingredients for our favorite (peanut butter chocolate chip) so I whipped up a batch of banana bread instead. another perfect loaf.

Since I have displayed my culinary expertise, my mom has already had the talk with me about when I will start making dinners. Trinity, who began subscribing to Martha Stewart Living when she was quite young, was a masterful chef and baker at an early age. (What couldn't she do?) I guess the same is expected of me. We do love to bake. Not only do I enjoy my treats, but baking also serves as a good math lesson (for my mom) . . . especially when we have to calculate half of 1 3/4 cups when making a smaller batch of bran muffins.

After nap and baking and snacking, my dad and I went to the lake. My mom had a pot of potato cheddar soup waiting for us when we got home.

The best part is that I seem to be in the midst of another growth spurt so I can eat 50 servings of yummy food each meal. The downside is that I cannot wake up.

visitors

My guests, Grandma Betty and Papa Geary, were just arriving from California this time last week. They drove all the way here just to see how cute I am. It was a short but busy visit. We ate. (It turns out that they also love pecan pie and ice cream.) We played. (Building, I am always building.) We swam. (Brrrrr. It was a chilly 92 degrees. But I would gladly swim in the Arctic Ocean.) We played a bit of golf. (Mini golf at Barton Creek Resort.) And then they departed just as suddenly as they arrived. This is a photo of me saying goodbye to Grandma Betty.

I am still adjusting to my school schedule and, most days, I am sleepier than anything. Like clockwork, I have gone back to crying upon arrival in the morning. They warned us that I would have three joyous weeks of school and then the tears would start again. Well, I am delighted to be there; I just don't like getting there in the morning.

My dad has taken me to school a few times lately because my mom has had one appointment after another. But he sticks closely to our routine. Arrive at 8:09. Turn the car off. Read to me while we wait for Mary to come out promptly at 8:15 to escort me into school. I was a bit disappointed one day this week when my mom came to pick me up instead of my dad. My dad can very easily be talked into a trip to Central Market for snacks after school. My mom will sometimes surprise me with a bagel from Central Market but mostly she takes me directly home to make lunch and so I can sleep all afternoon.