Fern Elena

Dear Fern, part 48

2010-02-03T23:23:00.001-08:00

Dear Fern,

Today, you are 4.

Ready to be 4.

What with the renovation and move out and then back into the house, your busy sister getting into everything and your social calendar becoming more and more demanding, it's just about all we can do to take a few pictures now and then.

So though those monthly missives got harder and harder to put together, at least we can put together the photos from the last six months -- well, some of them, anyway.

Happy Birthday.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern (part XL)

2009-06-07T14:28:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

We mostly use Roman numerals for these letters; that makes you XL months old. Extra large, indeed: every day you seem taller and bigger, more solid little girl than any kind of baby. You're more lucid and funny and stubborn and just plain more grown up than ever. Even the baby clothes you insist on wearing every few days are getting larger -- you squeeze into the 18-month clothes instead of raiding Claudia's newborn outfits.

40 Months

Monsters have become rather an obsession for you. The giants of preschool literature -- Sesame Street and Frances -- make monsters seem fun and lovable, and so you're totally unclear about why anyone would be scared of them. Scooby Doo is your special bedtime treat, which explains that whenever we play "monsters" you finish up by pulling off your mask and saying "Guess who I really am?" (It's usually the creepy caretaker from the first scene. Who knew?)
As before, you have some pretty testy moments, and they're still nearly always down to a lack of food. The very idea of sitting through an entire meal when it's so much more fun to imagine a napkin ring into life as a guy named Diver Dave who just has to sing one more song before taking a bite -- well, you get the picture. The conventional wisdom is that we should simply make food available at mealtimes and figure you'll eat it when you're hungry. That's great, but any subsequent physical exertion turns you into a starving, seething wreck if we try that, so we have reverted to a little mild cajoling.

So, now, what else happened this month. Oh, right: you started school.

You started SCHOOL!

Your first day, you were a little tentative, probably because we made the logistical error of taking you in at the same moment that every other kid arrived. You were bombarded with well-meaning but overwhelming suggestions of what to do next. At the beginning, you would have been pretty happy just poking through the dollhouse, but one parent would come over and say, "Here, try this!" and another would say, "No, play with my kid!" and on and on until your eyes were spinning. Once the hordes departed, though, you were more or less happy for a couple of hours.

Day two, though, you met a boy who shares your love of Scooby Doo and fast cars. And then a couple of girls who love to bake. And then there were fish to paint and octopuses to stich up and stories to hear, and you sent daddy off for coffee for two hours without even a second look.

So all told, it took you about an hour to warm up to school. It's taking your parents a lot longer to get used to it. We love watching your successes, of course, but all the same it's a little jarring that a whole gaggle of new people are getting to know you, and at first, they don't know you that well.

Your teacher asks if you need the potty a couple of times a day. You've never had trouble with functions: if you need to go, you say so, and if not, you say you don't. Since you didn't use the potty for three hours, teacher seems to worry that you're rejecting the bathroom completely, which, to be fair, is probably a reasonable fear for a preschool teacher. But that's just not you: you go when you need to, and you have for over a year. It's a minor thing to be sure, but it's the beginning of many years of interactions with teachers who will misunderstand you in ways large and small, and we need to accept that as part of your enlarging world.

And that's it, isn't it? For the first time, you'll have direct relationships, unmediated by us, with someone other than your family and a close circle of friends. You'll come home some day soon and tell us all about Susie or Danny or Wilhemina -- and we, your parents, won't have been the ones who introduced you. Which is exactly how it's supposed to work, of course, but you'll forgive us, I hope, for coming along slowly.

Not you, of course: you're still charging forward with all your imaginary and real friends (and crime-fighting Great Danes).

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXIX

2009-05-03T22:35:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

"Boots beets bats beets toots.
Beets abby do ba dee do
It's very clear to see
Bob the Builder we can do it
Bob the Builder yes we can!"

Jump.

You turn three and a quarter today, and during the the three months it's taken us to finally write one of these "monthly" letters, you've occupied yourself mostly by composing songs (like that one), adoring your sister, and engaging in a little multiple personality hijinks.

Joey and Dodo, your two most common imaginary visitors, come less frequently these days. In their stead you take on the personalities of "Mimi" or "Petey" (who appear to be the same person). Mimi-Petey, amazingly, is a lot like you, although she's always on her best behavior -- she acts exactly like you do with your grandparents, aunts, and uncles when we're not around.

Notification that you've transformed into Mimi usually comes when you ask something along the lines of "Is Fern coming with us today?" or "Where will Fern sleep?" It doesn't faze us anymore, but it's a little amusing to see people who don't know this game try to come up with a response.

You're terrific with your sister, though you do get frustrated sometimes when Claudia steals the attention that is, after all, rightfully yours. Most of the time, however, you offer hugs and kisses when she's crying and ply her with toys when she's not. We're a little jealous, in fact, at how quickly you can console her -- you're fairly clearly her favorite form of entertainment.

We are constantly amazed with how big you're getting. You're really tall. Your hands are real kid's hands. You've lost all trace of baby fat and straightened out into a big girl. It's jarring sometimes to see you jump easily off a ledge that would have stymied you (or meant a skinned knee) even three months ago.

We recently accomplished a major milestone: the elimination of all tangles from your hair. Despite the professional advice of a purported children's hair specialist, we managed -- through multiple viewings of Mary Poppins as we laboriously picked out every knot -- to return your hair to its original, waist-length, dreadlock-free splendor.

In other news, you've started the next level of tumbling class, the one where you no longer have a parent accompany you. We watch from the bleachers as a coach directs you on the trapeze and trampoline -- your first experience as an independent student. You took to it amazingly well, and that's just one good sign that you'll adapt well to nursery school. That starts in June -- less than a month away! -- and you're apparently pretty ready. Already, you've asked for a computer ("for school!") and a desk ("for school!") and you've taken to washing your face in a novel and particular way ("for school!").

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXVI

2009-02-03T17:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Fern,

Unbelievably, you turn three years old today. What's most astounding about your birthday is that you've seemed three (or sometimes four, or twelve, or twenty-two) for quite a while already. At least a couple of times a week, a stranger asks you something along the lines of "Are you four and a half yet?" And although it was oh-so-fun to reply smugly "No, she's still two," we're glad that we can say "three" now. The number suits you better.

Looking Up

As Claudia responds more, she's becoming ever more fun for you. You especially love to take care of her, which is gratifying to watch -- and hear, as you repeat oddly modified versions of our own words of comfort. (A recent example was "That's okay, that's okay big sister, honey honey!" Note that you call Claudia your 'big sister' these days, apparently in full awareness of the irony of that.) You do have an uncanny ability to calm her from one of her few crying jags: a certain way with the rattle.

At the same time, you're acting out a fair bit of sibling jealousy. It's not that you're ever mean to your sister -- at worst, you'll occasionally ask us to "put the baby down" when you want to play. Since she was born, though, you've frequently insisted on wearing "baby clothes," which means digging out some infant outfits and squeezing into them. Given a lot of elastic, some nice baby sweatpants have turned into very tight shorts on you, and we're sure you've startled many playground parents with your midriff-baring outfits.

In another unpleasant twist, you've lately begun to insist that you want to throw up -- just like Claudia spits up. You got a book meant to demystify medical problems -- lots of illustrations of happy children having their broken arms set in plaster -- and that got you started. No actual vomit yet, and for a while there you seemed pretty ticked off that we weren't letting you hurl.

You're still somewhat eccentric, even for a three-year old. Much to the consternation of your more compulsive friends, you always put marker caps back on the wrong color marker -- intentionally. (You'll go through a new pack switching them up and cackling.) We even noticed that you'd swapped the kid toothpaste cap with our grown-up toothpaste cap the other day (who even would have thought they'd be compatible?). We're unclear about where this impulse comes from: your daddy, at least, didn't regularly replace the toothpaste top at all until his middle teens.

Since Christmas, your favorite hobby has been wrapping presents. You can now accomplish the entire process -- get toy from room, fold toy in paper, wrap in thirteen yards of Scotch tape, place in gift bag -- with our help only in cutting the paper to size. Once you get that down, I expect that we'll need to order wrapping paper by the case; we already use a roll as a special reward for good cooperation. Everyone needs an artistic outlet, it seems.

In other big news, we applied to nursery school this month. Sometime by September, if all goes well, you'll be doing two half-days a week at a local co-op. We have no worries about you -- you're incredibly independent and verbal. A couple of weeks ago when we asked if you needed any help with your Play-Doh cookery, you told us, "You just concentrate on your thing. I got it." It's as if Fern the teenager traveled back in time to take over your body.

So it's been a busy month and year, full of challenges, but also loads of fun every day. You're starting your fourth year now and we couldn't be more proud of how far you've come -- or more excited to see how you handle your further adventures in big-girldom.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXV

2009-01-03T01:22:00.001-08:00

Dear Fern,

Sister.

You turn 35 months old today, ostensibly entering the last month of your terrible twos. For most of this year you haven't shown much tendency to the "terrible," though the last few weeks, we'll admit, have brought some challenges.

Not that we're surprised. After all, we've taken a rainy month, added a new baby, filled the days with fun but routine-bending visits by out-of-town relatives and, of course, suffered a seasonal end to most organized activities and play dates. Of course you get confused and cranky; heck, we do too.

And, you know, regression can be cute, within limits. It's charming when you squeeze into pants designed for a 3-month old -- that is, unless we need to get out of the house quickly, or we're going somewhere (like a chilly playground) where that kind of outfit won't work. Then you channel your inner terrible two, and though we're both pretty good at handling a Fern-tantrum, it's not very fun.

You're handling sibling envy pretty well. Claudia has been a decent plaything and you're especially excited at how much she responds to your voice these days. When she's crying or cuddling, though, you are occasionally overcome by a need to cry or cuddle immediately as well. Then again, though Claudia steals your parents' attention, she also attracts a pile of new toys into the house. (You get first playing rights, of course.) Overall, you seem to consider sisterhood a positive thing.

We succumb to that common tendency of parents to worry most about what least needs it. In the case of your third December, it turns out we needn't have been too anxious about the effects of Christmas bloat. You had four Christmas celebrations, all told, and got some pretty darn impressive presents from all corners. And you were almost always gracious and passionately excited about every gift. For a not-quite-three year old: well done.

Despite all the confusion (or maybe because of it?) you've matured quite a bit this month. We've noted before that grandparent visits seem to inspire developmental advances, so maybe that explains why you fairly suddenly shed most of your sleep issues. Most nights now, you fall asleep on your own in your bed like you used to. Daddy comes back every five minutes, but by the first or second return visit, you're asleep. About half the time, you sleep through the night, though you do still ask for midnight help on the potty from time to time. It's maybe only once a week that you have extended wakeful periods at night, which is a great comfort.

Your age acrobatics continue: a couple of days ago, you were playing with a six-year old up at the tire swing playground for something like an hour before she asked how old you are. When she found out you're only two, she told her four-year old sister that she thought you were at least five. Even adults generally guess at least a year or two above your actual age. It's hard to describe why you come across older than you are: you're tall, of course, and pretty verbal, but not like a kindergartner. Put it down to confidence, an inner font of gritty determination that's unusual in the two-year old set.

Yet you are decidedly ambivalent about being a big girl. So we keep your booster seat installed but have an old car seat around for you, too. We shop in the much-anticipated Girls section of Target, but we still stop by Toddlers every once in a while. Because while the world seems intent on thrusting you into big girlhood, it's just fine for you to hold on to "baby" from time to time. Let it go when you're ready, but no sooner, OK?

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slide show. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXIV

2008-12-03T10:35:00.001-08:00

Dear Fern,

You turn 34 months old today. Something really big happened to you this month, but we can't quite remember what it is.

Oh, yeah, that was it.

Yes, you became a big sister this month, and if there's sibling jealousy in you then it's waiting for a different month to manifest. You've adapted to the presence of a baby admirably, mostly by becoming more flexible in your inflexible demands.

Last month, if you wanted attention and both of us were home, you'd usually pick one or the other. "Mommy, come play basketball!" would be the call, or "Daddy, I want to take a bath." Now, peppered by frequent helpful visits from friends and grandparents, your key expression has become "I want to play with one of the grownups." The implication is clear -- any grownup will do, whichever one is not changing or nursing or soothing the baby.

Sometimes you get involved in baby care yourself. Since you can pretty much reach the sink now (we'll discuss your pro-basketball future soon) you moved your bathroom stool next to the changing table and helpfully provide wipes on demand, all the while telling poor discommoded Claudia, "It's OK. It's OK."

Dolls have reaped the benefit of your sisterhood, as well: you've become incredibly attentive to their needs, diapering them and putting them down for naps. Your mom bequeathed to you her own childhood Sasha doll, and it's rare that you don't install her in the high chair at the dinner table in front of a tray of wooden vegetables, feeding her very small bites and blowing on the fork when her "food" is too hot.

You're not all about babies, of course. For one thing, you've become an unrepentant clothing kleptomaniac. First you were squeezing into your sister's baby clothes. Now it's come to the point where we're keeping little bags of clothes to be returned to your friends, since you can't go on a visit without pawing through closets and drawers for choice footie pajamas.

Friends have gained in importance, though of course we've had a hard time seeing them enough. A couple of weeks ago, we saw Erwan, your bestie from the old neighborhood, and for a while there it seemed like you might smother him with the hugging and all. We've joked in the past, the way all parents do, about "planning the wedding." Now we think you might be thinking along the same lines, as well, and no joke.

So one of the most revolutionary months of your short life, a month of changes that could have confused or annoyed or even frightened you, has instead boosted you squarely into the ranks of the confident, communicative, compassionate big girls. Well done.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXIII

2008-11-03T22:54:00.001-08:00

Dear Fern,

Shady.

You turn two and three quarters today, and there are two drawbacks to this milestone.

For one thing, we just taught you to say "two and two thirds" and that was kind of impressive.

Secondly and more importantly, this is your final mensiversary as an only child. Rare will be the days to come when you'll have both your parents' undivided attention. One friend, another parent of two, described the sensation as going from double-teaming to a one-on-one defense -- and it seems that you don't completely approve of the change.

Don't get me wrong: most of the time you continue to be your blissfully satisfied, cooperative self. You're also more likely these days to go off to play some game of your own invention -- by yourself. It's as if you're already preparing for how distracted we, your parents, are going to be in a few short days.

But you're also backsliding, too. No textbook regression for you: you're still pooping in the potty and dressing yourself. But if we indulge you, and sometimes even over our objections, you'll try to squeeze into some of the baby clothes we've been getting ready for your sister. You've also taken to making us feed you sometimes. Although we're loathe to do that for an almost three-year old, we know that if allowed, you will go without a bite of anything (except toothpaste, which you covet). And then you won't sleep. And then we won't sleep. So if feed you we must, then feed you we will.

Your ambivalence about sisterhood has a positive pole, too: you spend much of your time practicing baby care. One of your favorite games is "put the baby to bed" in which you arrange pillow, blankets, and stuffed animals for your current sister proxy -- the favorite doll you've oddly taken to calling "medium-sized dolly." (At least it's not "venti dolly.") So at the same time that you're looking slightly tarty in your 6-month-sized T-shirts you're also asking for a doll-sized Baby Bjorn. You make us feed you, then in the same beat turn to feed your doll or teach mommy's belly to sing "This Old Man."

It's obvious why the family enlargement confuses you: it's doing the same to us. Every symptom -- from your stubbornly regressive moments to the periods of unbridled saintliness -- is completely normal for a now two-and-three-quarter year old about to get a baby in the family. You've really enjoyed self-identifying as a "big girl" -- doing things like having entire telephone conversations and writing letters to your friends -- but you're not sure that you like the idea of losing your recourse to babyhood. Just today you rejoiced over upgrading from car seat to booster but at the same time you wanted to ride in the Ergo carrier like a baby -- something you haven't done for over a year.

Your upcoming thirty-fourth month promises to be life-changing for all of us. We know -- well, hope -- that you'll feel as we do that the titles you're losing -- "only child," "baby of the family" -- will be more than compensated for by the ones you're gaining -- "big sister," "sensible caregiver." And, the most exciting label that you'll be surely taking on in a couple of years -- that might last the rest of your life -- is, of course, "best friend."

So if you have a few moments of receding into infantile behavior for a little while -- it's not a problem. You've got a lot on your plate just now.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXII

2008-10-03T17:21:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Communing with a baby ladybug.

You turn two and two-thirds today and as you careen toward three, you seem to be daily more intent on controlling the world around you.

It started months ago with clothes -- you've always wanted to pick your own, but more and more, your need to create an outfit that's "just so" borders on obsessive. Pink, of course, is still in vogue, although you like to mix things up, too: just today you chose dark striped tights instead of pink pants. And some days nothing but a dress will do.

Your experiments with the world are not limited to the sartorial, though: you want to actively participate in nearly every aspect of daily life. We love that about you, of course, and sometimes it's even useful, like when you help load the dryer or whisk your own eggs for breakfast.

At other times, your independence can be challenging. When you make up your mind that you will be doing something by yourself, it's nearly impossible to offer you any help. Stuck inside a sweater with a sleeve the wrong way in, you still want to get it on by yourself and reject any obvious assistance. (We're getting pretty subtle about helping hands, though; as long as you don't notice us tug or pull, you can't object.)

Your self-reliance has made you a problem solver. We've struggled for months with washing your hair -- you don't like to be reclined into the tub, we don't have a sprayer, and when we use our special hair-washing rinse cup, you won't tilt your head back. So mom asked you a few times how you'd solve the problem of needing to look up at the ceiling during rinsing. "I can look up at a duck!" was your decision, and -- since you'd come up with it yourself -- it worked! One or two rubber duckies later and your hair was clean.

Not surprisingly, you like to control us, too. Dad told you the other day about how Mommy was coming home soon and you immediately responded, "Is her hair up?" If mom's hair is down, you're sure to demand that be fixed, and the same goes for ordering dad to "Put your hat on!"

We're really proud, though, of how you're convinced that pretty much everything in the world can be brought under your control, once you learn the trick. At the zoo one day this month, two goats were friskier than usual in their attempts to steal every bit of kibble we'd bought. The two started butting at each other fairly violently, like something out of a nature video. Adults were running off, but you grabbed one by the neck and whispered something (probably a threat) into its ear. Over and over, you pushed the brawling goats aside and insisted that they play nice. And amazingly they did, and what's most impressive, they stopped treating you like a lunch ticket and instead showed you the same deference a farm hand would deserve.

If you can master zoo goats, we guess you can accomplish just about anything. At least, that's what you seem to think, and if this month is any guide, you're probably right.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXXI

2008-09-03T23:47:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

"Thank you for a nice day, daddy."

Sweet girls.

Today, the day you turn 31 months old, that's what you said in lieu of "Good night." Mommy and daddy looked incredulously at one another. We didn't tell you to say that -- we've never told you to say anything remotely like that. Earlier in the day, unprompted, you came out with "Thank you for dinner, mommy!" It warmed our hearts, it was a nice sentiment, but where did you learn it?

The answer is obvious, of course: you heard someone use the expression, you understood and liked it, so you adopted it as your own. But not so long ago at least one of your parents was present and usually responsible for every one of your "learning moments." Now, it seems, you're teaching yourself.

The other day you wanted to show off your sunglasses to your cousin. You just whipped them out, unfolded the earpieces, and put them on in the fluid gesture of an L.A. driver. A few months ago trying the same action you would have nearly punctured an eardrum or else ended up with the glasses upside down. But we never taught you the skill -- we couldn't say for sure that you learned it this month, even. But you learned it, and you learned it somewhere on your own.

Have you been practicing these things during nap time?

You count now -- not just numbers, which you've done in a rote way for a long time, but you now enumerate things with numbers. You climb up on the big toilet and take care of business alone -- usually with the door closed, "for privacy," as you say. And you learned to turn the deadbolt and let yourself out of the house, a skill we'd just as soon you'd left for a couple more years.

You're learning to be a compassionate little thing, too. We get lots of spontaneous and apparently heartfelt thank yous, hugs, kisses, and knuckle bumps. You like nothing more than to care for babies by putting your face directly into theirs and saying "It's OK, little buddy." Apparently, you think that infant care is a Gilligan's Island rerun, but oddly, it seems to work: babies love you.

Stuffed and imaginary pals aren't forgotten, either. You spent a few memorable nights with your mom making beds for a monkey and a frog out of a fruit roll-up box and bits of felt using rolled adhesive tape for the pillows, and you're ever holding Joey's hand when we cross the street, the better to keep her invisible little self safe from cars.

There are still challenges, of course. Your nighttime sleep is still fantastic, but naps can be a struggle. You are sometimes bossy with kids your own age and slightly older (like your parents). But those rough edges only appear when you're sleepy or hungry -- on whole, you're a charming, personable little kid, and every day you master new skills and words and grownup emotions, whether we see how you're doing it or not -- usually not.

Well done.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXX

2008-08-03T23:53:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Big. Girl. Bed.

You are two and a half years old today. Happy Half Birthday!

After weeks -- months -- of struggling with you to fall asleep alone, we finally discovered the solution: bribes.

Well, OK, let's call them "rewards." You've got a rewards chart -- every day you put yourself to sleep, you get a sticker on it, and three days of stickers mean a prize picked from a bag of covet-worthy treats: nail polish, paint sets, Swiss army knives -- heck, we were desperate enough to put anything in that bag.

What's funny, though, is that once mom set up the chart and the prize bag, it took you maybe two days to become a champion self-sleeper: you caught right on. The crucial breakthrough was comprehension: if we explain what we need from you, you get it. And, if the reward is great enough, you even want it.

Potty training took an imperceptibly short time once we established the one-jelly-bean-per-successful-pee rule. Nearly constant diapers and the potty chair as a novelty is so last week: now it's diapers-only-while-sleeping and we're looking into getting one of those workplace "Days Without An Accident" signs.

Of all the rewards, the grand prize of them all, the trophy that really turned your sleeping around was this:

The Big Girl Bed.

Yes, the very idea of a twin bed that was all your own -- a bed you could get in and out of at will, a bed that you could pile high with your stuffed animals and books -- that drove you to change your sleeping habits nearly instantly. For a few days, you would cry when left in bed, but for no more than five minutes or so. (By comparison, when we tried to do this in April, you screamed for 20 minutes and seemed ready to keep it up for hours except that we, your pathetic parents, couldn't take it.)

You told your friends, your relations, even your acrobatics teacher about your big girl bed; soon you'd repeated the phrase so incessantly that it came out more like "BIGurlbbed." You wanted to look through every furniture catalog that came to the house to pick out just the right one. And, night after night, you put yourself to sleep with little or no complaint.

And finally, yesterday, the Ikea man came by so that you could spend the night before your half birthday, for the first time, in your big girl bed. And you fell asleep on your own, and slept through the night. (To be perfectly honest, you did wake up an hour earlier than normal when you managed to squeeze past the safety bar and fell on the floor, but that's to be expected once or twice, right?)

In just a couple of weeks you turned sleeping from one of your hugest challenges to an enormous success. Sure, the reward had something to do with it, but we tell ourselves firstly, "So what?", and secondly, that you accomplished something hard by deciding you really wanted it -- and that's something for you (and us) to be proud of.

Nice job. We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXIX

2008-07-03T02:02:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Fern, getting ready to say something really goofy.

You're 29 months old today. In our family, five-twelfths-birthdays are a time of reflection, even more than half birthdays or the lunar new year. Thus, we decided this month to simply jot down everything fascinating and bizarre you say. Sadly, you say incredible stuff about thirty times a day, so we were desperately understaffed for the task. Suffice it to call these few quotes your highlight reel. (Or, in some cases, your bloopers...)

It's a parenting truism is that the astounding things that kids say get flattened in the retelling, so we'll report these with little exposition and rely on your imagination to fill in the flavor of your monologues, conversations and general observations on various subjects. To wit:

On health:

June 17th:

"Bird seed is the best medicine."

I'm not sure if it clarifies anything that "bird seed" is your term for cashews or peanuts.

On technology:

June 20th, on a fake cell phone:

"Papa? Papa? Where are you? Here, I'll put you on speakerphone."

On matters veterinary (and exculpatory):

June 7th, after chasing our cat out of your room and receiving a mild rebuke:

"I kicked Carson to make her feel better. Maybe she likes to be kicked!"

On your role in the universe:

June 20th, speaking to the refrigerator door after having just pulled out a yogurt:

"I'm going to hold you to keep you stable."

On seasoning:

June 21st, after playing in the backyard with the neighbor kids:

"Mommy, I ate some rosemary in the backyard. It's totally edible!"

On San Francisco:

June 21st, some little time later, out of the blue:

"I love our neighborhood!"

On hygiene:

June 17th:

"You can kiss me if you wipe it off."

On laundry:

June 23rd, while "helping" fold clean clothes:

"I'm a pile of underwear!"

On exceptions:

June 10th, after hitting mom and getting a stern talking-to, in a bewildered voice:

"But we can hit butt cracks!"

On food:

June 23rd, finding a leaf on the kitchen floor and showing it to dad:

"Can I suck on this?"

On implications:

June 22nd, getting ready to go:

Mom: "Do you remember what we're doing this morning? We're going to Deb & Erica's baby shower."

Fern: "Are we washing the baby's hair?"

On neonatal care:

June 25th:

"Don't touch my nose right now, because I've got a baby!"

On nature:

June 26th, swinging at the playground:

"I smell the wind."

On gifts:

July 1st, using the pretend cell phone attached to the kitchen from Grandma Ocean:

"Hey, papa! Thanks for taking pictures! Do you got a kitchen? I don't remember. Do you got a kitchen?"

On dumb jokes:

You learned a dumb joke from an Elmo doll ("Why shouldn't a pizza tell jokes? Because they're really cheesy!"). One morning, mom was making cheesy eggs, so dad gave you the prompt -- "Why shouldn't a pizza..." -- and you impishly answered,

"Because they're really eggy!"

On fashion (or a legal career):

June 25th, getting dressed in the morning:

Fern: "I want to wear my flower pants."

Dad: "Oh, they're a little bit dirty, though."

Fern: "Oh, but they're a little bit clean, though."

On love:

June 25th, as you were falling asleep:

Mom: "I love you very, very much."

Fern: "I love Darryl very much. I really really love Darryl. I love Darryl. I love Darryl very very much. Darryl's my driver."

Darryl is one of the drivers on the bus line that takes you down to your favorite playground.

I know you'll believe that these are all real quotations, direct from your funny little brain, because I suspect that we couldn't invent anything nearly as interesting. Making them up couldn't possibly be half as fun as listening to you come up with them yourself, anyway: these days, every conversation we have with you means a trip through your oddball imagination.

It's tons of fun: more so every day.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXVIII

2008-06-03T21:39:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Fern shows Joey how to handle a goat.

You're two and a third today, which is one-third of the way to seven, though sometimes it feels like you're already there. This installment of our monthly letter to your future self will be about one of your best friends, lest you forget about her in the years between now and whenever you're reading this.

Her name is Joey. When we describe her to our adult friends, we call her "imaginary," but that's just shorthand for "so real that you can't quite see her." Joey appeared (so to speak) just before we found out that you're going to have a baby brother or sister, so it's possible that she's your stand-in sibling during the long wait for the real one. Your mom's childhood invisible friend was a scapegoat she used to explain her own misdeeds to herself, but you don't seem to blame anything on Joey -- she simply comes along for the ride, the game, or the story.

Joey is your all-but-constant companion. She's had dinner with us and she frequently rides in the car. You push her in the playground swings and she was at the zoo the other day. (Sadly, she's afraid of goats. But you showed her that they're safe.) She's the perfect companion in that she can go off and play by herself when you're engrossed in activity, but when you're lonely or bored, she'll trot back over in her imaginary way and enliven the day.

You like to introduce Joey to your family. We've had two sets of grandparents visit this month, so you got several chances to describe her. The first time Joey's hair came up, it was pink. (Later in the month it turned "dark" -- your word for black, we think -- so she's either going natural or goth.) It's really neat that you introduce Joey to your grandpeople and other relations as it underscores your connection to all of them -- separately, as individual people that you can tell apart and appreciate for their differences. Even your out-of-town uncles, aunts, and cousins feature regularly in your life, thanks partly at least to regular Skype sessions. There seems to be a part of your mind reserved for family: you'll ask to call a certain grandpa or pretend to visit a particular grandma at least a couple of times a day.

Our first misunderstanding about Joey came from the name: your dad understandably asked you about "him." You quickly corrected Joey's gender: she's a she, the name notwithstanding, which begs the question of how you figured out that Joey could even be a girl's name. (Short for Josephine, presumably?) Did you see it on a Sesame Street podcast? Did we read you a book with a Joey heroine and forget about it? Are you studying the French revolution when we're not looking? We have no idea.

Joey was around your age once, then she was a little older, and just today she was 8 -- as ever, you tend to play with older kids. On the other hand, this month you've started to see younger babies in a novel way, perhaps best summed up as "animate playthings." You like to help them walk, push them on swings, and the other day you told a five-month old to cover her mouth when she sneezes. You've loved dolls for a while now, but where once they were more independent friends (like your Frida doll), now your Dolly relies on you to carry her across the street, give her a bottle, and tuck her in at night. You’re becoming a big sister, and big-sisterhood becomes you.

They say that imaginary friends are projections of a child's own personality. You have such an immense personality that it's completely plausible that it would erupt out of your head as Joey the Wonder Girl. Wherever she comes from, it's always a merry day when Joey appears. (Of course, with you around, every day is already fun anyway!)

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXVII

2008-05-03T23:08:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Fern and Erwan, expecting

Now you are 2 and a quarter. It seems that you look around daily and say, "Hey, check out all these people!" More and more often, when we take you to the playground or on an outing or when a visitor comes calling, you'll leave us behind and run off with playmates of your own choosing.

This month, you had what we're calling your "first conversation." You'd been following a trio of four-year old girls around the playground. You love four-year old girls, although (or perhaps because) they treat you a little like a pet, their most compliant friend. Paige, one of the girls, pulled you aside to invite you to a cookie party for her Cinderella doll over at the bench. You, Paige, and Cinderella sat there enjoying Fig Newtons, lost in chat about various important topics. Paige showed you a ballet step that you tried to copy. Best of all, no parents were present, encouraging you the way we sometimes do to "Show little Paige the way you like to dance!" No, you undertook the entire interaction all on your own, with us just eavesdropping.

It's not just girls who interest you, of course. You got to spend a few days with Erwan this month during his school's spring break, and you two are still best of friends. (One day, you practiced being pregnant together. You're having a duck, and Erwan's expecting a panda.) And you like younger kids, too. When we got to brunch and hike with our friends Kelley and Phil and nearly one-year old Elias a couple of weeks ago, you wanted to show the baby everything you know about being a big kid: your room, your toys, and your music.

And then there was Joey. It occurred to you a couple of weeks ago that people in your life don't have to be manifest, so you started talking about friends that your mom and dad had never met, and, in fact, don't exist in any physical form. Joey was the most common imaginary visitor, and boy oh boy is she a scream. Joey dresses really well, favoring flower shirts and hair bands -- just like you! She likes to eat breakfast with you, but frequently goads you into jumping up and playing before mealtime is through. And, best of all, Joey likes to take you on those long airplane trips to visit your grandparents.

Even characters in books deserve your attention. In a photo from one of your favorites (Sea Lion Roars, of course), a baby sea lion appears to be crying. Reading the book with your mom last week, you handed your bottle over to the book and said, "There you go, little buddy!" The sea lion didn't visibly react, but he was surely grateful. You do similar things for your dolly, with whom you have regular conversations when more animated company isn't available.

So you're well on your way to compassion, a journey we witness almost every day through your fascination with other people and creatures. It's inspiring to behold, really: empathy in its rawest infancy.

Keep it up! We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXVI

2008-04-03T18:17:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Listening for an easter egg

You're twenty-six months old today. Thirteen-sixths of a year!

We still call you "baby" sometimes, but every day that nickname is less accurate. Your attitudes, your interests, and your capabilities are quickly becoming those of a little girl. The real line to kidhood was crossed when you widened your eyes to perceive the greater world around you -- no, not just your eyes; you're tuning every sense you've got to your surroundings. So for this month's retrospective, let's go on a tour of your senses and how they've expanded of late.

Taste. You've got a New Yorker's palate: you love pastrami, grilled onions, and pickles, not to mention mushrooms and gourmet olives. Clearly, you inherited this eclecticism from your mother, who also loved a good ethnic nosh as a toddler, and not your father, who wouldn't even touch a mushroom until his 20s. Which isn't to say that you're a fantastic eater; some days you won't eat much more than a few Goldfish no matter how hard we try, but then the next day you'll wolf down an entire slice of pizza. Or four.

Touch. One of your favorite backyard activities is burying your feet in the birdseed bucket. (Let this serve as a reminder to all of you not to eat our birdseed.) Interestingly, after you've done that, you obsessively remove every grain of millet from between your toes. You also insist on stripping off all your clothes should three drops of water sully your sleeve, although that may just mean that you like being naked.

Hearing. "What's that noise?" comes up so often that we as parents find ourselves listening to our surroundings a lot more, too. You'll point out a distant lawnmower, or the sound of a hammer next door, or odd new bird sounds. (We're jealous of the fact that you can already tell a chickadee from a hummingbird by their songs.) Music, as always, is one of your greatest joys. Listening to the Nutcracker Suite a couple of weeks ago, you said, completely unprompted, "I hear butterflies singing." Oddly, you repeated the comment when Ray Charles played "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," which I guess shows you've got some good taste in music, too.

Sight. You're always looking around these days. When we are driving in an unfamiliar place, you ask "What's happening here?" or "Where are we?" You also want to know who lives in every house we pass. More than ever, you're sensitive to things that you see that have changed: if a doll is not where you left it, you'll notice. Your eyes are sharp, too: you can point out the last tiny ripe blackberry on the vine or the cat in a distant window down the street.

Smell. Spring means heaps of blooming flowers in the neighborhood. Smelling flowers is a favorite pastime, although one of them turned on you a couple of weeks ago. That's when you discovered a marigold: when you sniffed it, you recoiled from the stink almost like you were personally offended. Ever since then, you've been checking out different flowers somewhat… suspiciously. Still, you'll go out of your way to smell a rosemary bush (and taste it too, more often than not).

You're developing other senses, too: your sense of humor has been bolstered recently by the riddles printed on your string cheese wrappers that you love to repeat, although you sometimes mix up the punch lines. ("What kind of room has no windows and no doors? A necklace!") And your sense of mischief is ever-present and ever-growing: at the playground the other day, you purloined your friend's hat and hid it in the merry-go-round, and you're forever sneaking into the closet so we'll hunt for you. (Just now, writing this, daddy found a change-of-address sticker on his back. I wonder how that got there?) And, as we've written before, your sense of style is emphatic and pronounced. You've got firm ideas about what goes together in an outfit -- stripes, flowers, and butterflies are big at the moment.

The changes are coming blisteringly fast now, although amazingly, you're still that same big baby we met in person over two years ago -- that, and yet so much more that it's hard to put every transformation into words.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXV

2008-03-03T17:10:00.001-08:00

Dear Fern,

Playing "chase around the pillar" with Emmeline

Twenty-five months! That's a quarter of a hectamonth old! One thing that stands out this month is how you've worked on your relationship skills. You've always enjoyed other kids, but when it came to serious "play" you once typically looked to an adult, or else played by yourself.

Lately, though, you've done a great job inventing games with playmates. You don't need much adult encouragement to engage another kid in playing (or hugging or singing). Around mid-month, you met a 4-year old girl at an unfamiliar playground, and before long the two of you were happily spinning on the merry-go-round. You'd somehow gotten her to sing "Ring Around the Rosey" with you and she was playing with your hair bows. She had to leave soon after, but before she was whisked off for her nap, she asked daddy, "Can she be my friend?" To be honest, you looked nonplussed, but at least you nodded in a sort of accommodating way as she hugged you.

Your joint-play repertoire has also grown. Thanks to Erwan, you've enjoyed a good game of crash for months, but now you also like walking hand-in-hand, climbing, see-sawing, chasing, and, of course, dancing with other kids. At a sandbox equipped with a fountain, you and two older boys started a busy car wash business, first rinsing off all the toy tractors and shovels and then getting them sandy again. (You were best at the second part.)

You also reached a huge milestone by weaning this month. It was sudden, forced on you by mommy's appendectomy, and you've done pretty well. Although you don't ask to nurse any more, you haven't been sleeping quite as well, and it seems that you are feeling the loss. On the upside, you've become a lot more willing to hug and snuggle -- something you didn't used to put up with for too long.

So, all in all, another great month, the first of your third year. Spring is here and the weather is gorgeous in San Francisco (when we left the house today you commented "It's a beautiful day!"). We're looking forward to many outdoor adventures with you in the month to come!

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. Sorry there are so many pictures -- we couldn't decide! If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern, part XXIV

2008-02-03T06:40:00.000-08:00

Dear Fern,

Our proud 2-year old

Today you are two!

If the "terrible twos" are starting, we haven't had much sign of it yet. Sure, you're a little stubborn about sitting at the dinner table if there's something more interesting to do, but for the most part you are engaged, excited, and filled with just as much zest for life as you always have been.

We could probably write pages filled with stories about what you're "into" as you turn two, but to make things easier, we'll just jot down a list of your five favorite things in life.

Fern's Top Five Thrills At Two

People. You are devoted to members of your family, even those you don't get to see very often. Some days you'll randomly pipe up with the name of a grandparent or cousin or uncle or aunt, run over to your photo album, and show us the picture of the chosen relation. You love talking to your far-off relatives on the phone (and the computer!) and you enjoy their visits even more. More and more, you seem to like to orchestrate these connections -- "you sit here," "grandma play dolls," "call uncle," that sort of thing.

You're quite fond of your friends, too, not to mention their parents. A couple of months ago, you started requesting playdates, and now not a day goes by but that you inquire after the whereabouts of Erwan, Emmeline, Emma, or Galicia.
Animals. A couple of days ago, you found two crickets under a paving stone. Crickets are hard to hold and easy to hurt, but you picked them up ever-so-gently and cupped them in your hands so you could peer at their funny "eyes" (which is what you call antennae). Then, and this makes us really proud, you put them right back where you found them -- "home," as you said. Scale is no matter to you: you gently stroke our cat Carson, but you can also push around the ornery petting zoo goats like a dyed-in-the-wool farmgirl.
Pretending. Every day, you discover ways that your newfound "pretending" skill can serve you. You're an old hand at tea parties, and you still travel by the "airplane" behind the armchair. You've added to your repertoire, though: you drive, cook, eat, and dig in your pretend world. You can be a butterfly, a worm, or a lion. You've probably changed as many diapers as we have, but your diaper changes are a lot more interesting: you've swathed a duck, Elmo, and, of course, Frida Kahlo. You're especially fond of pretend presents: gift bags you fill with various toys (or imaginary treats) and then give to us, or just open yourself. You also pretend to swim in the bathtub, although you've only been in a pool once.
Music. You've come to prefer songs with a "fill-in" component, something that can change each time you sing them. Just yesterday you were singing to "Mary Wore a Red Dress," but you substituted "Fern" for "Mary" and various parts of your outfit for the dress: "Fern wore new shoes!" and "Fern wore orange tights!" A couple of days ago you also sang about how "Frida wore her red dress." (You love that doll!)

Lyrics. Rhythm. Humming. Experimenting with instruments. You love it all. Every morning when you come downstairs, or when we get into the the car, you request the kind of music you want that day. Sometimes you really want to hear your Music Together songs, or the addictive Boynton albums you got for Christmas. For that matter, you're still asking for Christmas music long after the season ended. And nothing delights you more than when you know the words to a song.
Dancing and Moving. Few things make you more ecstatically enthusiastic than dancing. You've got favorite music, of course, but you don't really need any music to dance; a little clapping is plenty of impetus for you to get on your feet. You saw a Sesame Street video about ballet and now you love to twirl and tiptoe and pretend you're flying around like a butterfly. You're a wonder in your acrobatics class, swinging giddily from a trapeze and bouncing on a trampoline. And it's no secret that any adult willing to swing you around wins major points -- as long as they'll do it "again!" and "again!" and "again!", that is.

We could go on … you love to wash dishes, you love to fix things with screwdrivers and tape, you positively lust after any water voluminous enough to splash. But for now, we'll just leave it here: you are growing and learning so much every day that we'd hardly be able to write it all down.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures below, click this link.

Dear Fern (Part XXIII)

2008-01-03T23:19:00.001-08:00

Dear Fern,

As usual for this time of year (and isn't it amazing that you are starting to have "usual" things!), you've been traveling a lot. It's exciting to see how connected you are to your far-flung family -- you're really starting to seek out relationships with your grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. At least once or twice a week, you'll ask, unprompted, that we call (or Skype!) a specific relation. You've video-chatted more in the last month than we ever had before and are mastering the cross-country rendition of "Itsy Bitsy Spider."

You in the garden of your new house

Your pretending continues apace. You invented a game with mommy last night where you gathered a "suitcase," kissed every living and stuffed inhabitant of the living room with a "bye-bye," and then crawled behind the armchair to be on your "airplane." Then you would arrive and repeat the process, over and over.

The gap behind the armchair has become a favorite pretending spot. It can be your "house" or "airplane," or just a cozy hideout -- or a hundred other things to come, probably.

Even after just a few weeks, you are thriving in the new house. You love the garden where we've found bugs and worms, dig holes, and picked flowers and even a couple of January blackberries. (Imagine that, you Midwestern relations!) You're also sleeping through the night pretty consistently, and although that started before the move, the new place seems to be contributing. It's certainly quieter up here on our little street, and the air is probably cleaner, too.

We've talked about the language thing before, but your vocabulary becomes more and more uncanny. At least a few times a week you come out with a new word -- often in a long sentence -- and we just don't know where the heck you got it. Of course, you've got favorite words, too. "Boys" comes to mind (also one of your mom's faves at that age, interestingly), and now "marching" (from your new favorite song), "pretty dress," "bless you mommy," and "there ya go daddy."

And soon -- in just a month -- you will be two years old. Enjoy this last month of your oneness! We know we will.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures down there, click this link.

Baby with a cellphone

2007-12-17T16:59:00.001-08:00

Fern has figured out how to take a picture with Graham's phone, turn it around, and squeal at the results. Her latest photoessay follows.

Dear Fern (Part XXII)

2007-12-03T06:25:00.000-08:00

Dear Fern,

New adjectives flooded into your vocabulary this month. You asked for the first time to wear a "pretty dress," and you describe things with words we're sure we never taught you on purpose: "fuzzy," "heavy," "cozy," "chilly," and countless others. Whenever you hit on an invented phrase that makes sense, you get really excited. "Cheese sandwich bacon" came to you one day: you know about cheese, you know about sandwiches, you love bacon, so putting them together gives you the ideal food!

Sentences are also interesting you. "I-want" is an easy construction, but you're also trying out some more complicated turns of phrase, like "I-no-like-it" and "Push-you-on-belly-swing." The record long sentence so far is "Let-me-I-want-touch-water-please." You tell jokes, too, usually about farting.

You picked the outfit yourself!

We're not sure when, exactly, but you have started to "pretend." It began with flying like a bird by flapping your arms -- that may be from your music class -- and has progressed to full-blown tea parties with tiny Play-Doh cups, saucers, and petit fours.

As always, you're really active, quite the dancer. The guitar player who sits and entertains outside our playground didn't used to excite you all that much, but now as long as he's playing something with a beat you're happy. And your acrobatics are progressing apace -- you can hardly see a horizontal bar without wanting to hang from it.

Group activities are starting to interest you more and more. The other day, you led a gaggle of toddlers in a mad game of Ring-Around-The-Rosey that left your dad with torn jeans and bruises. And you like leading: you love to encourage other kids to follow you places, although you usually move on once they're there. (You're a little disappointed, we think, if they don't show up!) The pursuit, it seems, is more important than the destination.

You still love bugs and worms, but lately you've insisted on showing all your discoveries to other people. Your preference is "kids" -- you must think that adults don't need to see another caterpillar -- and especially older boys. Maybe we're projecting, but we think you're proud that you can gently hold (and pet and caress and kiss) a worm that even the big, weapon-wielding boys are a little leery of.

We're moving this month -- today, in fact -- to a neighborhood closer to hiking trails and into a house with a backyard, but a bit farther away from the friends you've made down here. The loss of that community is sad, in a way, but we'll hold on to many of the friends we've made here, and we see a lot of good coming out of the challenge to take on a new playground and make new friends. Given how engaged, how verbal, how active you've been this month, we can only assume that you'll be hit the new neighborhood like a freight train!

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures down there, click this link.

Dear Fern (part XXI)

2007-11-03T18:00:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

Stomping Puddles

You turn 21 months old today, and like anyone turning 21, you are torn between two of life's great stages. Sometimes you'll eat an entire bowl of cereal with a spoon and cut up food with the side of a fork, and the same day you'll ask for your string cheese to be broken into pieces for you. You can count to twenty on a good day, but if you're not in the mood we can't entice you even to say "two."

So -- baby or little girl? You be the judge.

Last week, you were playing catch with your mom, rolling a ball back and forth across the floor. The next day, you grabbed her hand and told her to "Sit!" Then you went and got the ball, sat down across from her, and resumed your game. Sounds like little girl to me!

Three seems to be your favorite age in a playmate. If you find a willing kid in the three- to four-year old set, you'll disappear with her to collect rocks, dance ring-around-the-rosey, or draw with sidewalk chalk. You prefer that us parents keep our distance when you sequester one of these older buddies, so you'll run off with your buddy where you think we can't see you. Then again, if you're playing with someone your own age, you seem to like a parent or two around to perform our necessary swing-pushing or bug-finding roles.

You're still full of baby joy, too: a good tickle-fest or tumble can make your day, and you love to cuddle. On the other hand, you seem to be developing a fakey posed smile that you whip out whenever we say "cheese" with camera in hand.

Winter seems to be bringing out the little girl in you, too. On our first rainy day, you insisted that we go get you rain boots and a jacket and, after months of hearing about it from your friends, you finally stomped in a puddle for the first time.

Words keep coming, and you're starting to put them together into sentences. Some of your new phrases we'd sort of rather you didn't shout about, too -- it's great that you correctly identify "Arf-Arf Poop," but do you have to do it so often? Deep down, I think you know you're being a little mischievous.

Maybe baby, maybe little girl. A lot of both, probably, and we're hardly the ones to say. We'll just close with this exhortation, and it's probably not the last time you'll hear this: we sure hope you don't rush to grow up. Getting older is empowering, but being a baby is pretty fun, too!

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures down there, click this link.

Breakfast with the Family

2007-10-29T16:21:00.001-07:00

We made Fern a calendar (her first Day Planner!) with little stickers letting her know who she's seeing and what she's doing each week. She seems to like it, but especially the stickers part. Today, for example, she wanted to have breakfast with the entire family and quite a few friends.

Guests For Breakfast

(Ken, Jewel, Ali, Luke, Mark, and quite a few more of you are hidden only because you're on a sleeve or right on the high chair. Trust me, you're all there!)

Dear Fern (part XX)

2007-10-03T23:31:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

I Can Figure It Out!

You turn twenty months old today. To celebrate, you called your mom on her way home from work and talked to her for ten solid minutes, mostly without repeating yourself. You sang her some songs, recited your ABCs and counted to ten; you told her "I love you" and mentioned that there was a ball and there was a bird. And, whenever your dad asked if he could have the phone back, you said simply "No," and chatted with your mom some more.

This month again has been all about language. You are starting to put words together in surprising ways, and you're always trotting out new vocabulary we never taught you: "mushroom," for example, came tonight, and "office" yesterday. We had started a list of the words you know, but we gave up quickly; it's just too hard to track. Your pronunciation is improving in leaps and bounds, too. Until this month, we were the only ones who could understand most of your words. Now, more often than not, Fern-language resembles English closely enough for strangers to understand.

You've started singing on your own without prompting -- "just for fun," it seems. You have some favorites: "Eensy Weensy Spider," naturally, and a chant from your music class, "Hey Ya Na." Once, you obligingly sang the theme from Love Boat to show off to your dad's stay-at-home dad friend. Like any campfire singer, though, you don't need to know many of the words before you're ready to hum along to almost anything.

Your First Best Friend

Your best friend Erwan started school this month, and although you suffered his absence well, you still ask for him several times a day. Once, thinking you saw him at the park, a giant smile spread across your face as you nodded and shouted his name. Having had a friend like him, it seems to be easier for you to make new friends; you're learning the names of your regular park playmates and even seem to know how best to play with each one.

As always, you love figuring things out and have an amazing ability to focus. You managed to untie the farm gate at the zoo last week as a bemused zookeeper looked on. You clip your stroller belts, climb up the kitchen stool, unscrew container tops (which can be dramatic and wet) and dig up roly-polies. Driven to discover, you're also prone to frustration more than ever. You seem to have realized that you will someday be able to do everything we adults can, and when that day isn't today, you can get frustrated. You don't have frequent tantrums, exactly: it's more like you're upset that the world isn't quite under your control. (Yet.)

You're obsessed with water, tunnels, stickers, animals, bugs, and shoes.

Your mom started taking you to a circus arts class where you love swinging on the trapeze ("peez") and running on the trampoline, crashing into a pile of mats at the end. Before starting this class, you learned to climb ladders on your own. And, for some time now, your favorite trick at the park has been to hang from the bar at the top of the slide, raise your feet up, and swing back and forth. Willa, your new friend, learned to do the same after watching you, and her grandma claims that she is now more daring on the play structure because of you! You're one tough kid.

You're living a mile a minute these days; it's as much as we can do just to keep up!

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures down there, click this link.

Reunited Video

2007-09-21T15:59:00.001-07:00

Hey, all! As you may know, Fern's best friend Erwan started a full-time pre-school this month, so we don't get to see as much of them as we used to. After a week apart, we finally got them together for an after-school treat at Peet's the other day and the kids were, to put it mildly, overjoyed. So much so that we let them roll around in a spot we probably otherwise would have avoided rolling around in. (You'll notice E's mom removing a cigarette butt mid-way through!)

If you can't see the video below, or if you want to see it bigger, click here for the full-sized page.

Reunited!

Dear Fern (part XIX)

2007-09-03T16:28:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

You're a summer girl.

Sunset Girl

As grown-ups -- and even more, as San Franciscans -- we've forgotten, a little, what summer is for. Thanks to you, we're starting to rediscover that...

Summer is for the Sun

You love getting outside to "piay!" every day. We've been discovering and rediscovering outdoor adventures spots: the beach, the Discovery Museum, and new playgrounds. We're out for a good part of almost every day of this unusually fog-free summer. The bright sun has finally taught you to love hats and sunglasses -- two items you formerly saw mostly as peek-a-boo toys, or earlier than that, things to chew briefly and then ignore.

Summer is for Ice Cream

Another newfound love. Your mom took you for your first honest-to-goodness full-on ice cream cone this month, and it's a full-body experience: you lick the cream from the cone, stick your fingers into it, lick them a bit, bite the cream, and then crunch the cone. For future reference: you far prefer the cone to the cup, the cake cone to the sugar cone, and your favorite flavor is coffee. (Yeah, great.)

Summer is for Acrobatics

Swingin' Girl

Just when we thought you could have some independent playground time, you started climbing ladders. Big ladders, too, the ones the four-year olds have trouble with. You've always liked hanging from the monkey bars, and now you swing from the bar at the top of the slide, giggling at the panicked looks on our faces. And you love tumbling. Somersaults are an old favorite, and just the other day, you put your head on the ground, locked your knees, and just stood there, like an ostrich about to do a headstand. Your buddy Erwan thought it looked cool, so he tried it right away, and suddenly there you were, two baby butts in the air, like a miniature yoga class.

Summer is for Junk Food

Your food tastes have swung toward carbohydrates, so we have to work a little harder to keep you eating enough fruits and vegetables. Luckily, you're still a nut for avocados, and you love to eat berries off the vine. (I even pretended to pick store-bought berries from a tree, and you loved that, except that then I had to pretend to pick avocado, cantaloupe, pears, and rice cake from that same tree. Hm.)

Summer is for Goofiness

Goofy Girl

Your mom and I are curious about the nature and nurture debate as it applies to goofiness. Because boy, are you evah. Your mom had you at the market the other day and you repeated "Loodleoodleoodleoodleoodleloo" for 25 solid minutes, apparently just because you like the way it makes your tongue feel. You also tackle us out of nowhere (I think maybe Erwan taught you that one), smoosh your face up against the French doors, and make silly faces just to prove you can.

But summer is coming to an end and so, alas, is your 19th month. Erwan is going to school full time soon, so we won't have as many outings with our buddy. You are starting to draw quite a lot and getting excited about longer books with fewer pictures, so we can spend more time on (for lack of a better word) "intellectual" pursuits.

As we speed along the last half of your second year, you're establishing and communicating your personality more loudly every day. Sometimes that fills the days with challenges, but more often your burgeoning individuality is just fun, fun, fun to watch.

We love you very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Here's this month's slideshow. If you can't see the pictures down there, click this link.

Dear Fern (part XVIII)

2007-08-03T23:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Fern,

bunny ear baby

Buttons!

You're a year and a half old today, and we're going to call this one "manipulation month." I mean that in every sense: you're making connections between cause and effect at an increasingly sophisticated level, but that also means you're learning that you can make us react when you make demands of us.

You've had your first real tantrums this month. Nothing major -- a few minutes here or there when you didn't get your way -- but we're trying our best to teach you that tantrums are not a tool. You got a timeout this week, a minute by yourself in your high chair in the kitchen, and, astoundingly, it worked. Your mom and I are also practicing our toddler communication skills: we acknowledge that you WANT something at your level and at your volume, even as we let you know you can't have it. To our surprise again, that also seems to work.

Those challenges are still few and far between, though, punctuation marks to huge stretches of development that amaze your mom and me daily.

You love to put things away in their proper place. For what I'm sure is the last time in a decade or more, we can come into a room where you've been playing and find it neater than it was before.
While rocking you to sleep, your mommy asked you to close your eyes, so you reached up and closed them with your finger.
You've begun noticing when Carson the cat's food or water bowl is empty and ask to help fill it. You squat next to her bowl, scoop up some kibble, dump (most of) it into the bowl, pick up the pieces that scatter on the ground, and hand feed them to her, all the while scrunching your face up in great concentration. We're not quite ready to let you loose with the water pitcher!
You've quickly become an expert "babysittee." You lead your babysitter around the playground, telling her it's time to play on the swings now, but now it's time to look for bugs... she reports that you don't give her a minute's rest!
You really recognize your friends now, too, like your park buddy Erwan. You can say his name, and you know how to entice him into a game of "crash" or buddy-sliding.
What began as a few scribbles has turned into a real passion for any kind of marking device on any markable surface. (Thank goodness for washable crayons.)

And so at eighteen months we find you a confident, excited, personable baby, turning quickly into a little girl who makes new discoveries and embarks on fresh adventures with each passing day.

Keep it up!

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

Dear Fern (part XVII)

2007-07-03T13:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Fern,

In your seventeenth month, you decided to trust the members of your extended village.

One afternoon you went to the playground with your Aunt Morgan and Uncle Luke. You see them in pictures all the time, but they live in Chicago so you haven't gotten to enjoy them since Christmas. No matter, though -- you pulled them into the swings and up the slide without a thought to how far away your mom and dad were. After all, aunties and uncas are just as good at playing Up! Whee! Watwa! as your more familiar relations! You got cozy like that with a lot of folks lately... our old friend Angie, your Uncle Greg, and dozens of others in our extended circle.

This month, you invented a somewhat credible "run." From your bouncy toddle you roll up onto the balls of your feet -- cue parent anxiety here --, throw all your weight to one side -- we swallow hard --, catch yourself with a toe, overbalance and nearly topple before you land the other foot -- that pounding noise is just our hearts --, and thus canter on in a barely controlled careen, as if you're sliding down a hill that's just a little too steep to walk.

Sometimes -- OK, a lot of times -- you take a tumble. Mostly, you aren't bothered a bit, and we're pretty proud of your solidness. Maybe because we always roughhoused with you, you seem to regard upside down and sideways as perfectly legitimate attitudes. When a random playground mom fusses over you after a fall, you usually give her a sort of pitying look, as if to say "Get over it!"

You concentrate really intensely. On a plane this month, you spent twenty minutes opening and shutting the window shades. The first day you figured out that you could autonomously climb the stairs, sit, and go down the slide, you repeated it about thirty times. Unfortunately, this focus comes out best with novel experiences: anything you've already accomplished (like, say, eating) tends to take a back seat to your thirst to explore more.

Oh, one last thing: you learned to brush stray strands of hair from your face this month. We expect you'll perfect this gesture over the next few years while we have control over your hair, until that sad future day when you'll crop it short as a rebellious teenager.

So your seventeenth month ends today, and as we enter the last month of your first sesquiannum, it's getting harder to call you "the baby." You talk and act more like a little girl, and although we miss your infant helplessness, we're excited by each new accomplishment, which these days come pretty much daily.

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy

If you can't see the slide show, click here.

Happy Father's Day!

2007-06-20T00:22:00.001-07:00

Another post from Kristin...

As you’ve probably figured out, blogging has become more and more difficult as Fern has gotten older—for one, she’s become more attuned to the camera, often wanting to use it herself in the same way that she wants to use our cell phones (not advised, by the way, as I recently discovered when my cell phone crashed to the floor as she dropped it from her high chair—thank goodness for cell phone insurance!).

For another, if she spies a computer in use, she also wants that for her own purposes of tickling Elmo, making it difficult for us to complete our own tasks.

Her technophilia is only one of many ways in which she’s following in daddy’s footsteps … she also loves digging in the sand for crabs and dipping her toes in the ocean. Next thing we know, she’ll be saving seals and blogging on her own. What will she write?!

Dear Fern (part XVI)

2007-06-03T23:41:00.001-07:00

Dear Fern,

We're going to call this the "month of parlor tricks."

There's probably a more technically precise term from the field of child development for the astounding leaps you're making, but since we don't know the correct nomenclature, we're sticking with "parlor tricks." Or maybe "baby vaudeville" because it's so fun to have you perform in front of our friends and playmates. Here's what you can do, mostly new this month:

The Animal Sounds Game. Impress your friends by giving correctly and in succession the correct sounds for cat, dog, sheep, owl, donkey, elephant, snake, and lion!
Do You Wanna Rock?! When we say this, you throw up your arms and we all say "Let's Rock!" Even better is when we start out like we're with Metallica: "Hey, Cleveland! DO! YOU! WANNA! ROCK?!"
Find the Body Part. You successfully locate your head, eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, ears, shoulders, belly button, hands, knees, feet, and toes.
POILs (Phrases of Impressive Length). You say "olive oil" and "belly button" (in addition to some 45 other fairly typical words). We're working on "meritocracy," "ambulate," and "self-immolation."
Clap Your Hands, Stomp Your Feet. Thanks to Music Together classes, you clap, stomp, drum, strum, and hum on command.
Please and Thank You. We've got you using the signs for "please" and "thank you" and you're picking up the spoken word "pweez" -- often even on your own. We're not positive you really know what "please" means, but then again, does anyone really know what "please" means?
Playground Tricks. Since you're an old hand at the playground, you've picked up a few stunts that seem impressive for a 16-month old but are simply habit: hanging and dropping from the monkey bars, doing somersaults, belly-swinging by yourself, and digging for bugs.

So it's been a banner month for your development. We'd be guilty of evasion if we didn't mention the downside to that: we've just come off a week where you had a few horrible sleep nights -- up every other hour, sometimes not falling asleep until the double-digit PMs, and getting only 10 hours of shuteye some days, when 13 or more was your average. Such sleep disturbance, some of the "experts" say, can be a sign of a growth spurt of mind or body.

Thankfully, though, the brief sleepless phase seems to have passed, and you're back to your previous pattern, which was becoming more and more regular. We're going to chalk up the anomaly to a surge of growth and learning.

So here you are, one-and-a-third years old. It seems like it won't be too much longer before you'll be writing these blog entries on your own. Your mom and I are just starting to get the first "gee-you're-not-a-tiny-baby-anymore" pangs, but nevertheless: We can hardly wait for what's to come!

We love you very, very much,

Mommy & Daddy.

Looky what we learned today

2007-05-23T19:58:00.001-07:00

looky what we learned today

Our former roommate Laurel took this on her phone last night. The tongue thing was unplanned. I guess Fern & I are sort of similar!

A Sinister Look

2007-05-19T11:37:00.001-07:00

Hey, everybody! I couldn't resist posting this cute little photo of Fern looking a little sinister. In the picture, she's chewing on a pencil topper that a grandfather (who shall remain nameless, but it's the one who's a priest) got for her. Let's just say... she's a lot of fun with everything she does these days!

First Art!

There are a couple milestones to report, too.

Fern set pen to paper for the first time and entered the "Craft Age": the picture at right was her first creation! Now we just have to make sure that the crafts remain on paper, and not the newly-painted walls!

To complete the dental saga, I should let you know that Fern's final first molar came in with hardly a complaint. She's now got 12 teeth, and although it's hard to predict, her canines will probably come in about four to six months, then the final set of molars in about a year.

Finally, Fern is very excited about the birth last month of her new Minneapolis cousin, Tanner!

Sorry I've been so lax about posting lately -- I'll do my best to fill in the gaps this month!

Dear Fern (Part XV)

2007-05-03T16:00:00.000-07:00

Our Easter Trip

Dear Fern,

You're fifteen months old today. Fifteen. A teen-month-ager. And you're not unlike a teenager in a lot of ways: you're newly capable, excited by life, and immersed in daily discoveries.

You're turning into a little linguist. You enjoy knowing the names of things, whether in English or sign language. You can name things as diverse as your belly button ("bewi-buh"), oatmeal ("ohmaol"), and your pet Roomba ("Wilbur"). You've also moved on from nouns and verbs to feelings: you can tell me you're tired now, and your mom has taught you "I love you" in sign, and "please" and "thank you," too.

You're so clued in that we're discovering that we have to be very careful what we talk about. Both of us have become adept at s-p-e-l-l-i-n-g things out. We read in our Karp that we can use this to our advantage, by "gossiping": praising positive behaviors to another adult rather than directly to you. Apparently, there's research to show that you pay more attention to what I'm saying when I'm talking to mommy than when I'm talking directly to you. In fact, Karp suggests that I can gossip with the cat or even some handy inanimate object.

"Hey, stove, don't you like it when Fern tells me what she needs so nicely?"

"Why, yes, Graham, the microwave and I agree!"

At least it gives me someone else to talk to.

We got to see a lot of family this month both here and in our Easter trip to Virginia. You're very engaged, and seem perfectly willing to play with anyone who wants to play, including your grandparents but also, amazingly, your rather physical older cousins. Since your best friend is 2½, I suppose you're getting used to a little rough-and-tumble, but I was amazed at how you thrived on the onslaught of holding, running, walking, picture-taking, singing, tumbling, and dancing the older kids brought on.

We've gotten you out to restaurants a few times, including your Uncle Steve & Aunt Julie's place in Virginia Beach. Eating is a lustily physical experience for you now. You don't want to be fed anymore -- you want to feed yourself and you love new textures between your fingers: rice cakes, mushrooms, smoked salmon, or, as was the case at Ribley's, a nice barbecue pork sandwich!

You've also expanded your animal experience. We got to meet lambs ("baaaas"), sheep, guineas, horses, and, as always, many new bugs this month, and you seemed to enjoy them all. It's not so easy to get a city girl like you out to see nature, but you enjoy every minute! The zoo is a pretty intense experience: you've got just enough language to express yourself in a really beautiful way. When your mom took you there last weekend, you were fascinated by an anteater: your joint spoken-signed word for it was "nose-cat," which I thought was pretty apt. At the same enclosure, you impressed a peacock sufficiently with your cries of delight that he displayed his feathers for you. (I realize that it's not entirely complimentary to say that you sound like a peacock, but there you go. Let's just say that your enthusiasm is... magnificent. And voluminous.)

You're doing a lot of learning these days, Miss Fern, and we feel honored to be along for the ride!

As always,

Much love,

Mommy & Daddy

Dear Fern (Part XIV)

2007-03-31T20:38:00.001-07:00

Our little girl

In the meerkat den

Asleep in the car

First Strawberries

Images of Month 14

Dear Fern,

Sometime this month, you made the transition into "little girl." We can't put our finger on exactly what we mean by that, but we know it's true.

You're talking a lot more. You pick up words with ease, although you don't always remember them for very long. We'd think you were just mimicking us if not for the fact that pretty frequently, you'll bring the word back a few days later, unprompted.

While it's fun hearing you say all these new words, our enjoyment pales in comparison with your excitement at being able to communicate what you want. It's a little like being in a foreign country: you use a combination of pointing, the few words you know in English or sign, and some very focused grunting to get your meaning across.

Here's an actual conversation you had with your mom the other day:

"I'd like some food," you said.
"Oh?" answered mommy. "What would you like?"
"Cereal, please."
"Ah, I'll get the cereal out, then."
"With milk," you added, politely.

Maybe you think I'm exaggerating your lucidity. It's true we translate a little bit for you, but not that much. You're very well spoken.

A beautiful spring has hit San Francisco, which means we're doing big outings at least once a week. You love the beach and the zoo, and we spent a memorable day in the park with some new friends. I'm learning that you resemble us when it comes to travel: you like going to beautiful and interesting places, but once you're there, you have no need to sight-see. You don't need to experience every animal at the zoo, and a pigeon is just as good as an eagle. And one good lawn at the botanical garden is enough for an afternoon's experience... no need to see everything.

Thanks in part to these long morning outings, you're down to a single nap per day. You'll stay up for about five or six hours after you get up in the morning, then go to sleep for up to two hours. This has been a fantastic thing for us... we can really get out there and experience life when you're able to go that long. Your napping has been incredibly easy, too: once, after a particularly exhausting day when we visited mommy at work, you actually fell asleep in the car! (I know, to other parents this doesn't seem like a big thing, but it's a rarity for you.) Even more amazing, you stayed asleep as I parked the car, transferred you to the stroller, rolled you a block to our house (crossing a busy intersection as we did it), decanted you from the stroller, carried you upstairs, changed your diaper, and put you in your crib. Good nap!

You are having a little bit of trouble at night, waking for sometimes an hour or even more at 3 or 4 a.m. We're not sure why, although we suspect that your erupting molars are one possibility. We've also had luck feeding you extra right before bedtime, so it's possible you're just waking up a little hungry sometimes. Still, it's a big improvement over the multiple awakenings that were happening even just a few weeks ago, and we're hopeful that once those teeth come in we'll be able to get back to sleeping through the night.

Walking, which you've been doing for over two months now, has finally entered the realm of "second nature." I no longer have to worry when you're in head-banging range of something, which is a relief. I think it's done wonders for your self-confidence, too, to realize that you can get somewhere, experience the new place, and then get up and come back to us, all without any particular help.

So I guess what we mean by "little girl" is that your gifts for interacting with the world have developed to the point where you're asserting your own being more often than not. Honestly, it's just a little bit frightening to contemplate the entirety of the path that you've started out on, but at the same time we're jazzed to see you taking it!

We love you very, very much.

Mommy & Daddy

Weathering the weather

2007-03-12T14:51:00.001-07:00

San Fran Spring

San Francisco has gotten warm and wonderful this week, so we decided to go out and enjoy our lunch alfresco in the playground. Fern had no trouble adapting to a summery lifestyle: kick your feet up, eat a strawberry, and watch the birds do all the work!

Two and a half feet!

2007-03-09T11:24:00.001-08:00

our big baby!

Just a quick note to report on this week's one-year physical checkup. Fern passed with flying colors and all her stats are in pretty much the same deciles as before: 75th percentile height, 90th percentile weight, and somewhere just over the chart lines for head size. So, at 30.5 inches, Fern has crossed the two-and-a-half foot mark for good!

Many of you will remember the friend in the photo as our former roommate (and wedding cake designer) Laurel, who still comes over to hang with the family every week or so and also blogs all about her gourmet lifestyle, here.

Dear Fern (part XIII)

2007-03-03T18:41:00.001-08:00

Images of the 13th month

Dear Fern,

I have really enjoyed using the nice round term "a year" when people ask how old you are. You're doing everything a good one-year old should: your walking is coming along really well, you pick up new words (in English and sign language) nearly daily, and you're discovering new skills (like dumping things out of other things).

This month, though, I am paying special attention to your emotional development. It's been a challenging month for us, with difficulties facing many in our family and loved ones. So maybe I'm projecting, but I imagine that your sentiments about and toward others are starting to emerge.

One day this month, at the playground, you encountered a ball-stealer. (These are fairly common in the one-year old set, and you, in fact, play the role pretty frequently yourself!) In this instance, you didn't cry out or lunge after your stolen property, but you didn't disconnect and move on, either. You just looked at the other baby with an impenetrable expression. You showed that you were annoyed, certainly, but it was mixed with a question, almost a sense of wonder about this other being and his actions. It seemed as if you were trying to figure out why anyone would snatch a ball like that.

Do one-year olds ask these kinds of "Why" questions? I have no idea. I expect I'm grownupopomorphizing. But there was definitely something there. Other examples float up in my memory, too… You've started hugging both me and your mom a lot more without being prompted, often when you don't seem to be either seeking comfort or hiding. You’ll be playing in the living room when suddenly you turn, hug your mom or me, and then go on with what you were doing. It’s pretty charming.

At the playground, you're over your stranger anxiety. You approach other parents, climb on them, even hug them... not quite as often as some of the other kids do, but a couple of times a day. At home, you're suddenly very attentive to dolls (and stuffed animals, to some degree). You have two baby bottles that you feed them with, and if a doll isn't handy, you feed me or your mom. Or the cat.

It's hard to predict your adult personality from what we see now, but one thing seems clear: you're going to be cheerful. Thoughtful too, I'll bet. And pretty curious. Not without tearful episodes, unfortunately, but always consolable. (You’ve started complaining and even crying a lot more this month when you don’t get what you want.)

After that, though, the signs of your future persona become hazier. Will you like animals, sports, dolls, or trucks? (All of the above, at the moment.) It seems equally likely from this distant vista that you’ll be a novelist, a sorghum farmer, or a professional roller derby skater.

Whatever will be, will be. We’re sure having a great time watching as you figure it out, though.

Much love,

Mommy & Daddy

Fort California

2007-03-01T14:33:00.001-08:00

California living

Fern and I got to play "fort" the other day. She's still a little unsure about it: she seems to like the idea of being inside the cavern we constructed, but pretty quickly scoots out. Good thing she did, too, because as you can see, our building collapsed immediately afterward. Living in earthquake-prone California, I guess we'd probably better teach Fern a very important new phrase: unreinforced masonry building!

Peet's grants me (a little more than) 15 minutes of (not very much) fame

2007-02-28T17:06:00.001-08:00

Over the years, I've stayed loyal to Peet's Coffee*, never straying to that "other" place (the one with the name from Moby Dick, you know) unless I had absolutely no choice. (At the Bakersfield airport, for example. Then again, I was stuck in Bakersfield, so I had bigger problems. But I digress...)

These days, I take Fern to our newly-opened Peet's down the street at least two or three times a week. (She doesn't get coffee until she's four, we've agreed. But she likes people-watching.)

Imagine my pride, then, when after all these years, I've been recognized as a dyed-in-the-wool Peet's fanatic. I am proud to announce that Fern and I are this week's... Customers of the Week!

How, you ask, could this have possibly happened? How did they pick me from among all the Peet's regulars who buy expensive coffee mixtures instead of cheap black coffee like I do? Here's what happened, recalled in this snippet from my forthcoming off-Broadway play about the incident:

SCENE: A San Francisco Peet's store. Enter from stage left GRAHAM, an unshaven but otherwise clean guy pushing one-year old FERN in a stroller. Thunder peals offstage. GRAHAM approaches the counter behind which MICHELLE and ETHAN loll, looking bored but alert. Both have tattoos and look like they might have some hidden piercings and attend art college at night.

GRAHAM: Hey, there. How do you get to be customer of the week?

MICHELLE: Oh, I just take a picture of you. Let me get the Polaroid.

GRAHAM: That's it?

MICHELLE: Well, we already have one for this week, so you have to wait until next week. But I'll take your picture and leave it here.

GRAHAM: Great!

FERN: Hah! Mahmahmahmahmah. Psfffft!

And that's all it took!

*Even those of you from elsewhere have probably heard of Peet's Coffee, the local coffee roaster and chain that started in Berkeley a few years before I went to school there. My coffee addiction came of age drinking Peet's. When I first went to a local cafe for "coffee," I was actually drinking the least coffee-like of espresso drinks: mochas heavy on the chocolate and cream, lattes with almond shots, and similar monstrosities. I was a theater major and did overnight shifts on the college radio station, though, so soon, as I began to spend ever less time sleeping, I dropped the adjectives from my coffee order one by one. No more "decaf," ever. No more "single-shot" or "lowfat" or anything with "-ccino" or "frap-" involved. No, I was down to just one-word orders:

"Coffee." (Okay, I probably said "Please," too... at least, after the first cup.)

By this point, I wasn't even suggesting the size I wanted because I would simply hand over one of my capacious travel mugs. Peet's is pretty strong coffee, and drinking 32 ounces at a go gives one quite a rush. I don't remember too many specifics about college, but in the few memories that come back to me, I'm moving really, really fast.

Auditioning to be a Marimekko model

2007-02-27T16:21:00.001-08:00

happy in her chair

Something about doing nine loads of laundry inspires me to be a little more diligent about Fern's bibs. It's not like we don't have good ones: we've got a whole stash by Marimekko, including this full-arm number. Usually, though, by the time Fern's strapped into her high chair and I've got her food organized, she's already smooshed avocado into the sleeve of her white onesie and dropped peas into her tights.

So it's been a while since Fern put this on, and to be honest, I'm pretty sure she used to hate it. Something about today, though, put her in a great mood! I ran out of time to edit, so these are fairly well raw pictures -- sorry about the flash wash. I couldn't pick my favorite, either, so I'm just putting them all up!

Here's a link to the show.

First playground playdate

2007-02-23T11:39:00.001-08:00

Fern and Aliyana

We finally had what I feel is a pretty major "first" -- our first playdate with someone we met at the playground. I'm not sure why this took so long; I've been going to the playground for a looong time -- since Fern was about 20 weeks old. It's a big deal for me, though, because I've been a little shy to seek social encounters outside of the playground.

Fern got to know Aliyana in a pretty typical way for us: at the playground, I met her mom on weekdays and Kristin met her dad on weekends. (It's amazing how many babies we know in common without having met the same parents!) The girls are pretty close to the same age, and seemed well-matched. Aliyana's a solid walker, but Fern is pretty physical and lopes or cruises or crawls after her without difficulty.

I'm shy about this sort of thing, as previously mentioned, so I left it to Kristin to make the first contact, inviting the family over for brunch and play. (That's what the photos are from.) The next week was rainy, so Aliyana's mom invited me and Fern over for playdate and lunch. A friendship was born!

Since then, I've been investigating playgroups and have planned outings with some other parents, too. I've even gone to Peet's for a coffeeklatsch with a mom, two strollers, and a dog! The floodgates, it would appear, have opened. Next stop: running a preschool from the house!

Replacement O's [sic]

2007-02-15T20:07:00.001-08:00

Joe's Os

As you may remember, we've been searching for a replacement for Cheerios, with their high-fructose corn syrup. Our urban deity, Trader Joe, heard our plea and provided. Fern seems pleased to the point of indifference.

The one drawback is the incorrect apostrophe. I hate having grammatical errors in the house, but if it's for Fern, well...

Birthday recap

2007-02-12T17:40:00.001-08:00

Fern's First Birthday!

Far too many photos to put on one page... click here for the whole birthday slide show. I'm also missing quite a few because they were taken by other people... could you e-mail your photos if you've got them? Thanks!

Phew! What a birthday -- we're still recovering! In all the hustle and the bustle, I left a few fun bits out of the blog, so I thought I'd just catch up a little.

First off, as you may know, Fern's birthday comes the day after Uncle Greg's, so when he and Grandma Linda arrived we had a little celebration. Fern was asleep for the cake part, unfortunately, but we did spend some time practicing "blowing out the candles" for her big moment to come. (For the record, Fern did not blow out her own candle. I swung her around to set up an air current, but even that didn't really work!)

Grandma Joan and "Papa" Gary had a fun day with Fern when they arrived from the airport, warming up from a somewhat sleepy and whiny car ride. (We picked them up in a Zipcar since we've pared down to just one car at home now, and Fern still wasn't really used to it... and silly daddy forgot her water bottle to boot!) Among other things, they got to see the Christmas wagon put to good use as Fern got some walking practice in.

On the birthday day itself, Fern got all dressed up (we hardly ever get to wear dresses!) and was celebrated by Greg, Linda, Gary, Joan, and, of course, Uncle Ken and Aunt Jewel. She had a bite of her first birthday cake, although it was hard to tell if she liked it. (Judge for yourself from the picture!) Kristin created a Krispy Kreme cake, much like our wedding cake, except this time with a butterfly-and-fern theme, just as if you'd been strolling along a forest creek and happened to discover a patch of the elusive doughnut mushroom.

As mentioned above, I'm short on photos from the birthday, so please send me any more you've got! For now, here's a link to the whole set.

One Year Old!

2007-02-03T20:54:00.001-08:00

Some images of the first year

Our birthday entry is a joint effort; Kristin starts it out, then Graham's portions are indented.

Dear Fern,

As you walked down the hall today toward the living room where everyone had gathered to celebrate your birthday (you had just woken up from your nap), you pressed yourself into my legs expressing only a few moments of concern. You quickly gave everyone a coy smile and jumped into opening your presents with gusto, taking each in with keen interest. The flirtatious looks you threw about the room while you were eating your lunch, commanding attention from your high chair, made it clear how connected you feel to those you love and who love you back.
You are now a true toddler (you have taken your first independent steps after several weeks of cruising, and now you utter strings of "no no no no no")—it was hard to imagine a year ago what that would mean. At that time, all of the nurses in the hospital affectionately called you "the toddler" because of your massive mop of hair and size. You came out a solid, healthy girl, and remain so to this day, even after weathering acid reflux and casts on both legs. Your first cry was a throaty complaint, to which we responded with tears popping out of our eyes. When we caught our first glance of you while the nurses were cleaning you up and weighing you, I remember exclaiming "Oh my god, look at those feet! NO! Look at that HAIR!" And, "No ... really? 9 pounds 6 ounces?!"

In the following weeks, we plunged into a new lifestyle in which we kept the lights down low in the evenings and carried you in Sven (our name for the "Baby Bjorn" carrier) much of the day and all evening to keep the witching hour at bay. When we finally had enough courage to set you down, we would put you in the basket from Grandma Joanie and Papa next to our bed. My superstitious nature would kick in each evening as I felt a surge of relief at the sight of the protective totems hanging from the basket, tied there by one of my favorite authors, Louise Erdrich (how that came to be is another story), who also provided much comfort to me in her essays about motherhood, which I read when I wasn't catching up on sleep. Somewhere between three and four months (the end of the "fourth trimester"), you seemed much more at ease in the world—and we began to gain confidence as parents. I no longer had the regular urge to call your wonderfully responsive pediatrician to make sure we were doing everything right. At six months, we moved you into your crib in your own room and began the long journey to "regular" sleep.

My memory's not as good as your mom's, so I remember those first weeks as individual images. Changing your diaper for the first time in the hospital. Waking up from my perch on the chair to see you nursing in your mom's bed. Installing and re-installing the car seat base. The time you squeezed my finger for the first time. And, finally, taking you on outings. You've probably seen all these pictures by the time you're reading this, but try to imagine them the way they were: experienced first-hand by two new parents trying desperately not to be too clueless.

Four months (what your mom called "the end of the fourth trimester"), was also around the time I really settled being at home with you by myself on weekdays. Your mom had taken care of lots of babies before, but with very rare exceptions, I never had. What I had done is cared for a lot of wild animals, and strangely, I took comfort from that. Like any seal pup, you seemed the happiest when I was relaxed and calm, or at least when I pretended to be. So that's what I did.

You would never have known that your dad had any moments of not being relaxed and calm. While he took comfort in having cared for wild animals, I drew comfort from his stoic serenity. Through his tireless efforts, he has been the one to establish your regular sleeping patterns (someday we'll share with you the recordkeeping we continue to do to track your sleep, diapers, nursing, bottles, food, etc.), starting with regulating your nap times. Now your nighttime sleep has started to become more solid—at times even including eight-hour stretches. And it's much easier to help you fall asleep.

You've gotten more social by the day. You've always loved to smile back at anyone smiling at you, but increasingly you seek out others as well. This is great for me; I was getting a little lonely at the playground! Having you socialize with other babies opens an entirely new parenting dimension, too. You enjoy touching other babies, and an occasional touch becomes a grab. You sometimes steal toys, even, and they're stolen from you. I'm frequently asking myself when I should intervene: does it do more harm than good to interrupt your normal play? Baby chimps climb over one another and wolf cubs play-wrestle. I'm sure this behavior plays an important role in their development, and perhaps yours, too.
Then again, there are a lot of things baby chimps and wolves do that I wouldn't allow for you (except for licking gristle off of bones, of course). But there's no book to guide these kinds of decisions, so every day I redraw these boundaries for myself. Sometimes my limits float toward liberal permissiveness simply because I'm sleepy. Other days I realize after the fact I've reined you in too closely. I guess that's part of teaching you about life's disorderly nature.

Everyone comments on "what a good waver you are." At times, you wave even when no one is in sight as we stroll to and from the park (when I'm taking the "weekend shift" where I connect with the other weekend shift parents—often daddies). You also wave at the webcam in your room, at Wilbur (the name we finally chose for Roomba), and at "kitty cat" Carson. When I leave each morning, you wave goodbye and assure me with your dimpled smile that you will remember who I am when I return at the end of the day. I can't fully describe what it feels like to see you at said end of day, but know that there is nothing sweeter than the moment I walk through the door and see you and your daddy. I treasure our evening bedtime routine, which once focused on reading Good Night Moon, but has expanded to include your current favorites, I Love You as Much, Baby Beluga, Goodnight Gorilla, and Who is Coming to Our House. And I feel myself fully releasing all tension from the day when I sing some of the same songs to you that Grandma Joanie sang to me: Kentucky Babe, The Little Shoemaker, and Over the Rainbow. I have internalized the importance of setting limits at bedtime—if I let you pull books off the shelf (by reaching over my shoulder while we're sitting together on the chair in your room), bedtime can take three times as long. Once I started setting limits and sticking to them, you responded beautifully.

When people comment on your personality, I wonder how much of it is going to stick. When you're reading this—how old will you be, 9? 15? 32?—, will the same words describe you as those we use today? Gregarious. Contented. Responsive. Goofy. Resourceful. Determined. Um... jolly? Don't get me wrong: it's fine if you change, too... this is an exercise in early nostalgia more than an expectation. But ever since you were born, I've looked at your face and thought I saw glimmers of your older, wiser self. At times I'm secretly surprised that we're not yet having full conversations in English, although we have clearly started conversing in some language. Lately I've even begun to sense that you, too, are frustrated that you can't say more, as if that word you want to know and articulate is just on the tip of your tongue. Then again, I may be wrong, and simply grownupopomorphizing. I blame all that hair. Makes you look older.

You have learned to use your words. In addition to mastering a few words in sign language---milk (which you seem to use for mommy too), more, eat, and avocado (in that order with the latter three emerging on the same day this past week)---you now say "daddy" (ever since October), "mom" (or, more often, "momom"), and "kitty." Most recently, you learned to say "up" after I told you that you needed to use your words instead of shrieking when you wanted to get out of your high chair. What started as general vocalization from the time you were very little has now turned into full-blown singing. You favorites of late are La La La Lemon and Clap Your Hands (which also includes lots of "la las"). When you hear these songs, you stop what you're doing, turn your face toward the music, and burst out with "la la la la."

You scare the mothers in your music class. Whenever people sing, you sing, and sing loud like a mezzo-soprano on a roller coaster. To strangers, it can sound like you're miserable, but your face is filled with joy. (I think you're happy because you're finally getting your message across.) You're not always thrilled with big groups of people (neither am I, come to that), but if you've got an activity to focus on, like singing or playing, then you're comfortable. I have to confess to a little guilty satisfaction when you're feeling discomfited, because you've started to hug for security, which is fun! You are so at ease in so many situations that I can already feel left out, watching you play and enjoy yourself without me! It's nice to be needed.

Yes, your newfound ability to hug (even when that hug includes a little bite on my shoulder) is incredibly fulfilling. When you turn to me when you're feeling insecure, or when you're just wanting to give me a squeeze, my insides get all squiggly. It's the same feeling I get when I enter your room to find you beaming up at me after a nap or when we get into giggling fits together over silly things (your laugh of late is sounding like Horshack on Welcome Back Kotter). Sometimes it looks like your smile is going to explode. Or maybe I'm just projecting the feeling of delight and awe inside me when I look at you.

We love you very much! Thanks for a wonderful year, and get ready for many more adventures to come!

Love,

Mommy & Daddy

Kelley & Phil's bun!

2007-01-31T16:27:00.001-08:00

At Kelley & Phil's

We got to go over to Kelley & Phil's last weekend; as you can tell, Fern's got another playmate on the way! Unfortunately, we didn't get any good shots of Phil this visit; there are some of him in the "related photos" though!

Related Photos: KelleyPhil

First steps!

2007-01-30T22:29:00.003-08:00

Well, it's finally happened: we've got official, repeatable steps! Just before her birthday, too. Go, girl!

Press the play button, or if that doesn't work, try this link.

Changing the radio station

2007-01-25T15:52:00.001-08:00

Changing the radio station

I know a lot of teenagers, so I'm used to being told that my musical tastes are antediluvian. "You listen to this? How boooooring!" I have to say, though, that I didn't expect to get that attitude from Fern for 11 or 12 years.

No such luck. As you can see in my "caught in the act" picture, if Fern doesn't like what's on, she turns the big tuning dial until something more interesting comes up!

"I'd like out. Now."

2007-01-23T15:55:00.001-08:00

What's this expression saying?

We get asked a lot about whether Fern's got any words yet, and although the answer is unchanged (just a few, lots of mimicry), it has to be said that she's really good at communicating nonverbally. Any guesses as to what this expression is saying?

This is fun! Let's play more crib-slat-peekaboo!
I am sooo sleepy. Can't you tell that I'm sleepy?
Any chance of another Cheerio or two?
I'd like out. Now.

If you guessed d, then you're right! She does indeed get her message across.

Eyes on the prize

2007-01-19T10:40:00.001-08:00

Cheerios and a prize

Today we started on that most venerated of toddler staples: the Cheerio. For the first time since I was maybe 9, I opened the box to find... a prize! Our current cereals are generally prize-free, unless you count the occasional free ticket to Das Glutenfest, the annual German celebration of seitan.

The Cheerios prize is an odd music box that plays a nondescript ditty (maybe it's a salsa?) performed by penguins that have been frozen in an ice floe. Penguin pops, I guess. It's safe for "ages 3+plus" [sic] but interesting probably only to ages 2-minus. Fern, for example, seems perfectly content to use it as a percussion instrument and squish avocado into it.

Cheerios, it turns out, are made with the much-maligned (and occasionally defended) high fructose corn syrup, presumably to shave a few cents off the price, so we're thinking about looking for an alternative. Something sweetened only with fruit juice and full of fiber and nutrients. A cereal we can feel good about serving our child and eating ourselves. A wholesome product that makes us feel that all is right with the world just because it produces such benevolent things. The perfect cereal.

But I bet it won't come with a prize inside.

New Years wrapup!

2007-01-16T15:32:00.001-08:00

What a hiatus! I suppose I can no longer use the excuse of the holiday excitement any longer. I suppose I could come up with different excuses (I got a new version of Photoshop, I needed to fly to St-Tropez for the week, the cat ate my network), or I could just post! So, here goes.

I've posted some of the photos from Jack & Anne's days here over New Years' Day. Unfortunately The complete set of holiday photos, including several taken by grandmas Anne and Linda and grandpapa Gary, is at this link.

	New Year's girl
Jack and Fern	Cute smile	Fern in a box
Babushka girl	Cute smile	Fern gets a drum

File Under: celebrations

Slide into success

2007-01-09T00:21:00.001-08:00

Slide into success

The grin of success! Fern figured out how to get herself off the end of the slide safely without help and immediately climbed back up to do it again. Her confidence has matured a little faster than her agility, so it's a relief when the latter catches up.

Stealing the lens cap

2007-01-07T13:11:00.001-08:00

Stealing daddy's lens cap

Sorry about the long break -- we had visitors and Internet problems, and I can only deal with one thing at a time! I'm still getting the New Year's pictures, but I couldn't resist this one when I saw it. You have to look for it, but you'll notice that Fern's trying to steal the dangling lens cap from right off my camera!

Eleven months and counting!

2007-01-03T13:08:00.001-08:00

Images of the eleventh month

Dear Fern,

You're in the home stretch of your first year! We're just now getting back into our pre-holiday routine, so it's a little hard to tease out actual developmental steps from reactions to all the Christmas travel and turmoil. Still, it's clear that many of the challenging aspects of your babyhood are fading, and quickly being replaced by premonitions of even more challenging toddlerhood.

Knocking on wood while I type, you are sleeping more solidly and getting to sleep faster than before, with fewer evening wakings. I think it's because we're being strict about your sleep routine. It might help that you're eating like a champion, and I suppose you must be feeling more comfortable in your bed, too, so that it's not uncommon for you to go to sleep at 8 p.m. and not wake up at all until about 4 a.m. (Yes, four in the morning, so if you're rereading this as an adult, I hope you appreciate that!)

You had a little cold this month, your second so far. It lasted a little longer than the first, but like last month's, it didn't seem to slow you down one bit. You still love to sneeze, and have taken to jumping on me when I sneeze, too, as if to capture the sneeze for yourself. It's a little startling.

Your smile gets bigger every day, and so does your capacity for mischief. You get into things really quickly, and if you're upset you can cry pretty loudly, but not for very long. I get the feeling that it's time for us to really watch our behavior. It seems that the way we respond to your joy and your tears is already having a major impact on your personality. Now's the time when we could really spoil you, so we're always careful to be loving but not smothering, to let you experiment but not fall too hard. It's probably our biggest challenge at the moment.

You're still very verbal, but like I've said before, it's hard to say if you've said your first word (depending on how we define the word "word"). We're sure you've said "dada" and "mama," although sometimes you use them interchangeably with both of us, and possibly with the cat as well. You know how to ask for water, too, but it's less a word than a whine of a certain pitch. (Be assured, though, that it's not abstract; your mom and I instantly know that you need water when we hear that certain squeak.)

One unmistakable word you've learned is "milk," but it's not in English: it's the American Sign Language that we're using with you. You've been signing it for about two weeks now, albeit only for your mom, not for milk from a bottle. Daddy forgets to sign it with you.

Speaking with acknowledged bias, you are a really striking kid. We went to the park yesterday after a holiday hiatus, and you immediately attracted an entourage of faces both familiar and new. Several kids, all older and one who was probably at least three, followed you wherever you went. The three-year old wanted to have a conversation with you (oops!) and one cute two-year old girl kept bringing you toys and dropping them off. (You looked a little bewildered by that, to be honest.)

You aren't really verbal with other children yet, but nor are you aloof. I've noticed that you make solid and sustained eye contact more than the other babies seem to. All the babies like to grab each other, but in you I see a desire to make a connection: you'll try to touch a hand or a face, for example, rather than pulling at hair to see what it feels like. You grab sometimes, too, but it's less common than a stroke or a pat.

Still no walking or standing on your own, although occasionally, if you don't notice that you're standing, you'll stay up for a few seconds before plopping back on your butt. You pull up to stand with no apparent effort at all, though, and you'll walk with our support for many yards, so we're expecting that it'll be any day now that you toddle away on your own. (Probably when we're at the top of some unguarded stairs, or perhaps on a volcano observation platform. You have an uncanny ability to find danger where we hadn't noticed it.)

The holiday season has been fun and a little challenging, and you've been just fantastic through it all. Your personality is huge and ever-expanding, and as we chase after you on your learning adventures we're every day more excited, amazed, and sometimes bewildered by your burgeoning personhood.

Well done. Keep it up!

Love,

Mommy & Daddy

File Under: DearFern

Related Photos: expressions

Goin' to the zoo

2007-01-02T23:41:00.001-08:00

Goin' to the zoo

Greg and meerkat

Part of the fun of the holidays is having some time off together to do fun things like going to the zoo as a family. Uncle Greg (pictured, with meerkat) and Grandma Linda took us to the newly notorious San Francisco Zoo on the last day of their Christmas visit (and no, we didn't go to the lion house).

(The title, by the way, is a reference to the Tom Paxton kids' album, one of our faves.)

The twelve days of Christmas

2007-01-01T22:00:00.001-08:00

As promised, here are some of the photos from Uncle Greg & Grandma Linda's Christmas visit earlier in the week. I'd bet that Fern has the impression that Christmas lasts pretty much forever... she's been surrounded by carols, cards, and gifts for quite a while now. (We were especially hard put to find a spot for the partridge and that darn pear tree.)

Not that she minds, of course. As you can see, she's still pretty fond of paper, although some of the advanced wrapping baffles her; here she is with Grandma Linda helping to unravel one!

Also pictured is Uncle Greg learning some baby lessons. Putting on socks is actually quite an advanced skill... note how he expertly distracts her with a rattle so she doesn't notice that her sock is being replaced.

File Under: Christmas , Greg , Linda

Happy new year!

2006-12-31T22:12:00.001-08:00

Looking up!

OK, so I still haven't posted the latest Christmas photos, so you'll have to make do with another smiley face to ring in 2007. Happy new year, everyone!

File Under: smile

Related Photos: smile

Morning smile

2006-12-30T16:18:00.001-08:00

Morning smile

Here's another I've been meaning to post for a while, partly because it shows off Fern's teeth (6 now!) and partly because it's such a nice smile. Sorry not to have gotten more Christmas photos posted yet (including from Greg & Linda's visit!)... I'm still playing ketchup!

File Under: smile

Related Photos: smile

It's in the bag

2006-12-28T21:31:00.001-08:00

It's in the bag

First of all, we're now about halfway through our extended Christmas celebration: thanks to everyone for all the generous gifts! Fern is enjoying everything, I swear, and you'll be seeing photos of all the new toys put to use soon. Predictably, though she's also fascinated by the packaging.

File Under: celebrations

Related Photos: celebrations

Little lawbreaker

2006-12-27T12:42:00.001-08:00

Little lawbreaker

Fern is an unapologetic paper tearing machine. We've figured out that the airplane provides plenty of paper that can be torn (the Sky Mall catalog is the best) and some, as you can see, that probably shouldn't... and might even be a federal offense. This is from our flight home from Minnesota to the second stage of our Christmas celebrations, this time with Grandma Linda and Uncle Greg.

It's probably my fault for reading her the emergency card story. ("And then, mama passenger puts the oxygen mask on little baby passenger. Daddy passenger pulls the emergency door handle and POP! goes the escape slide!") For the past few flights, she's enjoyed playing with the card, and so we figured it was relatively indestructible. Alas, no; there might be nothing left in that category anymore.

File Under: travel , mischief

Related Photos: travel , mischief

The morning after

2006-12-26T07:38:00.001-08:00

Christmas morning, you play with your toys!

Just a quick Christmas morning post today; we're traveling back to San Francisco, so after a brief hiatus you'll be seeing more of our holiday adventures soon!

File Under: Christmas , expressions

Related Photos: Christmas , expressions

Christmas Eve miss

2006-12-25T06:30:00.001-08:00

Christmas dress-up

With Poppa Gary and Grandma Joanie

Christmas Eve came with all its attendant fun. Fern and cousin Kamryn got to be angels in the St. Matthew's pageant (not pictured, unfortunately; it was too hard to get a good shot), opened some presents of their own and some of each others', played with wrapping paper, cardboard boxes, and even the toys inside, and generally were the center of attention.

Fern seems to have picked up a sniffle, unfortunately, which is making her sleep a little subpar. Nevertheless, as you can see from her picture with Grandma Joanie, Poppa Gary, and cousin Kamryn, her spirits this Christmas couldn't be better!

File Under: Christmas , Minnesota

Related Photos: Christmas , Minnesota

Christmas ham

2006-12-24T08:35:00.001-08:00

Christmas ham

Fern's had quite a few new experiences in the past few days: her first Christmas tree, the excitement of enjoying family and friends (and dogs!), feeling snow fall, and wearing pretty new dresses. All in all, she's taking it mostly in stride, and often, as you can see, hamming it up!

File Under: Christmas , smile

Related Photos: Christmas , smile

A toast to toast

2006-12-23T13:20:00.001-08:00

Toast!

Fern's latest eating adventure has been into small items that can be manipulated by hand. She's been eating banana and avocado pieces for a good few weeks now, and also some special baby crackers that dissolve with just the barest hint of saliva.^*

Within the past two weeks, though, Fern's been making forays into the world of chewed foods: more realistic crackers, hard boiled egg bits, and as pictured, toast, her hands-down favorite. It's gotten to the point where we have to feed her the usual baby goo first or else she'll just demand more toast and other chunk-food!

Note: There were actually several pictures from this set that came out nicely, so I posted them all. Click on "feeding" next to "Related Photos" below if you'd like to see the rest!

^*Apologies if this is gross to you... I'll just say that, well, I could tell you some stories that are much, much grosser!

File Under: feeding

Related Photos: feeding

Not done babyproofing

2006-12-22T10:48:00.001-08:00

What's in here?

Fern clearly knows that I haven't finished babyproofing, and she's trying to find all the cabinets and electrical outlets before I get them covered. The drawer in question, as a matter of fact, does have one of those drawer stops on it, but that didn't keep her from opening it a couple of inches and squeezing out a straw and a napkin. It's sometimes a pain having a baby who's smarter than we are.

File Under: mischief

Related Photos: mischief

Jessica drops by

2006-12-21T15:22:00.001-08:00

Jessica drops by!

In a case of multiple fortuitous coincidences last week, Jessica just happened to be in the neighborhood, just happened to phone to drop by, and I just happened to pick up a little extra food at the market! She got to spend a little time with little Boobaby during bedtime preparations, too, which, as you can tell, didn't bother Fern one bit. (She's got good taste in friends, that baby.) Then Fern went to bed, and we all had dinner, wine, and conversation, just like we're all grownups or something! The it-takes-a-village god must have been watching over us. It's only too bad George had to work that night... we missed him!

File Under: Jessica&George , smile

Related Photos: JessicaGeorge , smile

Getting ready to go

2006-12-20T14:24:00.001-08:00

Why does daddy put me in stuff?

Fern took a much more active role in the packing process than usual, as you can see.

File Under: travel , smile , Graham

Related Photos: travel , smile , Graham

Emma is One!

2006-12-19T10:53:00.001-08:00

With her older, wiser friend Emma

Mmmm... ribbon!

Do daddies all do this?

We went over to Ann & Bruce's fantastic ranch home last week to help celebrate Emma's first birthday! Fern was untroubled by the huge crowd that came out to see little Emma's party, and as you can see even got into the spirit by ripping open many of Emma's presents. Such a good friend...

Fern also discovered to her delight that when Emma's daddy Bruce gets his hands on a willing baby, he also loves to play airplane! A man after my own heart!

File Under: Ann&Bruce , celebrations

iPod Daddy

2006-12-18T11:04:00.001-08:00

iPod Daddy

While putting Fern to sleep, I listen to the iPod a lot. (Audiobooks and NPR podcasts mostly... no rockin' out for me!) So I thought it'd be fun to edit a picture of the process to make it look like that iPod ad campaign. (Here's how I did it, if you're interested.)

File Under: Graham , sleeping , photoshopping

Saturday smiles

2006-12-16T14:04:00.001-08:00

Saturday smiles

Here's another from the backlog; I took this a week or so ago, but thought it was just so cute that it deserved to be blogged! Have a great weekend, all.

File Under: Kristin , smile

Related Photos: Kristin , smile

Flash Forward

2006-12-15T16:28:00.001-08:00

One Year Ago

Flash Forward

Another post by Kristin!

Last week, friends Ann and Bruce came to visit with their daughter Emma. As we were hanging out with the girls, we realized that it was two days shy of the anniversary of one of my baby showers last year (hosted by friends Jessica and Sandra).

In honor of the occasion, we asked Graham to take our picture with Emma and Fern in a similar position to a photo from last year—also with Emma and Fern, but at that time in utero (Emma was about to make her appearance; her first birthday was just this past weekend, only five days after the shower!).

File Under: Ann&Bruce

Related Photos: Ann&Bruce

Fern's feet, finally!

2006-12-14T09:11:00.001-08:00

A final checkup with Dr. Chen

For those of you wondering what ever happened to the saga of Fern's feet, here's the scoop. We went to see her podiatrist Dr. Chen yesterday, who pronounced Fern's feet just fine! There is still just the tiniest bit of curve in Fern's right foot, but it seems to be working itself out now that Fern's walking a little. If it worsens, we'll go back and perhaps get a special shoe, though Dr. Chen didn't think that too likely at this point.

So, all those sessions at the cast clinic turned out to be worth it!

Apologies for the low-quality cell phone photo...

File Under: feet

Related Photos: feet

Lights, Camera ... Santa!

2006-12-13T10:06:00.001-08:00

Winter Wonderland

First time with Santa

Snowmen and Santas

Another post by Kristin!

We recently visited friends Jane, Jon, Justin and Jason and found ourselves entering a winter wonderland as we turned onto their street—the entire block was ablaze with Christmas lights, and every lawn featured numerous holiday figures, many of which were animated.

Fern was beside herself with glee—clapping, laughing, waving, cooing, and nearly jumping out of my arms to get closer to the action (responding in much the same way she had with the sea lions and with a Macy’s holiday show featuring Mary Poppins).

People appeared to have driven from all over to see the lights, evidenced by the number of cars packed along the street, inching their way down the block. One neighbor reportedly pays $3,500 a month in electric bills. It was, to say the least, quite … um … stunning.

Perhaps the brightest light of all was Jason, who was celebrating his fifth birthday that day and wanted to be photographed in front of every display, grinning from ear to ear.

File Under: celebrations , Jane&Jon

Related Photos: Christmas , Jane&Jon

Aloha Fern!

2006-12-12T10:40:00.001-08:00

Fern with her new ukulele

Fern loves to play our guitars. She's not particularly gentle with them, however, so we decided she should have a guitar of sorts for herself. (OK, it's a ukulele, but it's a start!) So far she's mastered plucking and beating it; strumming will come soon, we're sure!

Don Ho, eat your heart out!

File Under: music

Related Photos: music

Meeting the new member of the family

2006-12-11T15:53:00.001-08:00

Meeting the new member of the family

As an early Christmas present and with an eye to easing the housework load, Grandma Linda got us a "Roomba," the vacuuming robot. She's been an immediate success, tootling around and picking up crumbs from Fern's new favorite food (toast), cat hair, and all those bits of paper that Fern loves to shred.

So how have the family taken to it? Mostly, all of us (Fern and Carson included) just love to watch it make its merry and random way around the floors, going around (or over!) obstacles and poking under furniture. Sometimes, if it seems to be heading her direction, Fern will scurry to the high ground of our laps (and Carson finds a perch on a chair or sofa). Generally, though, she just watches, mesmerized by her new little friend!

There is one bone of contention: Kristin uses a male pronoun for Roomba, and I use a female one. I suppose, then, we need to pick a gender-neutral name for it! Any suggestions?

File Under: Roomba

Related Photos: Roomba

Posing with some locals

2006-12-10T18:20:00.001-08:00

With Ken & Jewel

With Uncle Ken

Catching up on the photo backlog, I came across these nice shots with local relatives Uncle Ken & Auntie Jewel from a brunch a couple of weeks ago. Nothing like having such photogenic people in the family! You may be noticing, too, that Fern is feeling more and more confident with her extended family and community, to the point where she's now seeking out people other than Kristin and me at playtime. She's already learned our tricks, after all!

File Under: Ken , Jewel , dailypicture

Fern on Flickr: Ken , Jewel , dailypicture

A sort-of smile

2006-12-09T20:17:00.000-08:00

Smiling?

Fern's knowing smile. Have a great weekend!

Fern on Flickr: smile , expressions

File Under: smile , expressions

Brush brush brush!

2006-12-08T16:03:00.000-08:00

Brush brush brush

Part of the fun of eating solid food is getting to brush your teeth! No toothpaste, so far, although Dr. G says we can start. Oddly (for me, anyway), Fern really enjoys the process, and complains when we stop brushing!

File Under: dailypicture , grooming

Fern on Flickr: dailypicture , grooming

Hippie chick

2006-12-07T17:35:00.000-08:00

Hippie chick

Just another picture of our two-fisted musician, showing one of our new strategies for hair restraint: the bandanna!

File Under: dailypicture , music

Fern on Flickr: dailypicture , music

Music, together

2006-12-06T09:50:00.000-08:00

Music, together

Here's one I've been meaning to put up for a while; it's from a brunch about three weeks ago, shortly after Fern got some of her new musical instruments. She had a hard time picking which one to play (read: eat), so with a little help from Auntie Jewel, she's playing two at once!

File Under: Jewel , music

Fern on Flickr: Jewel , music

Three-layer Fern

2006-12-05T18:44:00.000-08:00

three-layer photo

A pyramid of sorts: Fern and Mom, then Mom and Fern, then Daddy and his new camera.

Fern had her 10-month checkup today. She weighs 22 lbs. 11 oz., is 28 3/4" tall, and is in great health!

File Under: dailypicture

Fern on Flickr: dailypicture

The eyes have it

2006-12-04T23:13:00.000-08:00

It's in the eyes

Happy Monday! Today, a "creation"... Many apologies for my sloppy first attempts at Photoshop processing... I just kind of liked the way this one came out.

Fern on Flickr: dailypicture

File Under: dailypicture

Ten Months Today!

2006-12-03T16:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Fern,

Some 10-month faces

You're ten months old today, closing in on a whole year! The biggest development is how capable you are of really, thoroughly enjoying people and places. We went to Pier 39 a couple of days ago to see some old friends and the sea lions that crowd the docks there. You loved them. Didn't want to leave. You kept clapping at the animals, and waving, and chortling. Sea lions hold their flippers in the air to cool off (and warm up), so you waved back.

Then you started flirting with tourists. You would chortle, and smile, and wave, and chortle again, until most of the people around you were paying more attention to you than the smelly sea lions. One younger guy (from Japan, dyed blonde) wanted to take a picture next to you. Some Russians from Pennsylvania on their way to a Mexican cruise seemed to think that you'd be the highlight of their entire trip. An older guy (Greek?) said you looked just like his granddaughters except that you were a lot happier. Then you charmed a French couple even though they had their own cute 3-year old. You were like a little United Nations.

You had your first cold this month. It didn't last too long (I think it was worse for us when we caught it from you), and luckily it didn't seem to bother your sleep too much. Most days, you've started falling asleep on our laps in the rocking chair, instead of needing to be "bounced" every time. Most of the time you only need a bottle or to nurse right before you sleep, and the rest of the time you eat baby food or cereal. You are sleeping a little less — a little over 13 hours on average now — and we think it might be your teeth coming in, or just a growth spurt thing.

Everyone notices how solid you are. Your year-old friend Emma came over yesterday; she's a fair bit taller than you but I think you weigh the same. It seems to be all muscle... you are a strong little thing. And your hair is uncannily long and beautiful. And you have an incredible attention span, too. (I know, you're probably thinking that I'll always describe everything about you as perfect, but in this case it's been noticed by other people, too.)

A year ago, when we were thinking about what it would be like to have a near-toddler, we pictured all of the milestones as distinct. One day, we thought, you would say a clear word and we would know exactly what you were talking about. The next day, you would pull up to a standing position and from then on be able to do it anywhere. In reality, your learning is a lot fuzzier. Some days you seem to have a few words that we clearly understand, other days you seem to just be making sounds. One day, you'll stand really well; the next, you're still hesitant and prefer to crawl. There are days when we can play "catch" back and forth for ten minutes, and other days you'll go from toy to toy quickly.

Mostly, though, overwhelmingly, we're gratified to see how happy you are all the time. You are fascinated and pleased that the world is so well stocked with interesting things to climb over, grab, taste, squeeze, drum, and look at upside down through daddy's legs. Everything meets your approval unless you hit your head on it, and sometimes even then. It's an infectious attitude, and we can credit you with spreading a little of it to us!

So, thank you for that, and we love you very much, and we can't wait to see what the eleventh month brings!

Love,

Mommy & Daddy

File Under: DearFern

Fern on Flickr: expressions

Separated at birth? (and by 30 years...)

2006-12-02T15:29:00.000-08:00

Separated at birth?

Still catching up on some older pictures... These are from a couple of weeks ago, when our friends Jo Anne and Alex came over for brunch and baby fun! You'll notice that Jo Anne and Fern called each other up the night before so they could dress alike and look like twins. There are a few more photos of them here.

With Jo Anne and Alex

File Under: JoAnneAlex

Fern on Flickr: JoAnneAlex

The other T-day: tryptophan!

2006-12-01T00:02:00.000-08:00

The other T-day

Sunny Weekend

Not shopping on "Black Friday"

So finally here are some last photos from Thanksgiving weekend: the aftermath! Here's the link to the entire set.

Fern on Flickr: celebrations , Greg , Linda

File Under: celebrations , Greg , Linda

Portrait with mom

2006-11-29T16:33:00.000-08:00

portrait with mom

Hey, all! Sorry it's taking me a while to get the rest of the Thanksgiving photos out, but here's a nice portrait with mom to keep you going in the meantime!

Fern on Flickr: Kristin , dailypicture

File Under: Kristin , dailypicture

Thanksgiving!

2006-11-27T13:56:00.000-08:00

Enough photos!

I've posted a bunch of Fern's first Thanksgiving pictures, featuring Grandma Linda, Uncle Greg, Uncle Ken, and Aunt Jewel, here: click the link!

See my Tabblo>

File Under: celebrations

Fern on Flickr: celebrations , Greg , Linda , Ken , Jewel

Thanksgiving arrival

2006-11-23T00:20:00.000-08:00

I'm a niece!

Grandma Linda and Uncle Greg

Uncle Greg and Grandma Linda arrived today to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with us. More photos likely soon as we feast with them and Fern's local aunt and uncle, too!

Fern on Flickr: Greg , Linda , celebrations

File Under: Greg , Linda , celebrations

Mommy and daddy toys are more fun

2006-11-22T17:03:00.000-08:00

Playing with mommy and daddy's toys

Despite loads of educational, parent-tested, 100%-safe toys, it seems like Fern's favorites are always the ones she sees us "playing" with: cell phones, cameras, guitars, and, of course, the remote control. And going somewhere new, she makes a beeline (of course) for the least safe thing in the room...

File Under: playing , dailypicture

Fern on Flickr: playing , dailypicture

Untitled

2006-11-21T21:57:00.000-08:00

Drool removal

First day with her new bells

Chatting on the phone

Nothing specific today, just three cute photos. Enjoy!

Fern on Flickr: playing , dailypicture

File Under: playing , dailypicture

Learning to clap!

2006-11-20T18:28:00.000-08:00

Learning to clap!

We have contact! Note the extreme concentration as Fern brings those hands together to the beat, adding one more musical instrument to her repertoire! (If you're keeping score, that means virtuosa Fern now plays the: piano, thigh, wood blocks, cat, hands, guitar, wooden spoon, bells, belly, file cabinet, cardboard box, and, of course, oboe.)

(OK, just kidding about that last one.)

File Under: playing , music

Fern on Flickr: playing , music

flying

2006-11-19T21:34:00.000-08:00

flying

Ferno loves to fly! My version of being a "helicopter parent" is to put her on my head and spin around. Wheeeeee! (If you've never heard the term "helicopter parent," click here.)

Fern on Flickr: playing , Graham , dailypicture

File Under: playing , Graham , dailypicture

What was daddy thinking?

2006-11-18T09:23:00.000-08:00

What was daddy thinking?

OK, to be fair to myself, she really actually truly had a good time under there. It was practically her idea!

File Under: playing, dailypicture

Fern on Flickr: playing , dailypicture

Still chasing the cat

2006-11-17T12:10:00.000-08:00

Still chasing the cat

Favorite toy at Grumpy & Grandma Lola's: Bogie's tail

Fern is still infatuated with our cat, Carson, and loves to sneak up on her to grab a tail or clump of hair. We coax her to "be gentle," of course, but she lives through a very limited number of filters, and "gentle" is not yet one of them.

For her part, Carson actually seems to like the attention, most of the time. She'd be perfectly capable of finding an inaccessible perch, but so far she doesn't seem to mind when Fern accosts her. She'll walk away a few paces, maybe, if the petting gets really violent, but then she plops down and waits for more. Carson does throw us a long-suffering look at that point, but after all, she's a cat: she always looks like that.

File Under: Carson , dailypicture

Fern on Flickr: Carson , dailypicture

Can you see me out there? I'm awake!

2006-11-16T23:47:00.000-08:00

Can you see me out there? I'm awake!

We don't know how, exactly, but we think she's figured out we can see her through the camera.

Fern on Flickr: expressions , sleeping , dailypicture

File Under: expressions , sleeping , dailypicture

False advertising

2006-11-14T11:13:00.000-08:00

False advertising

Well, no it's not, actually, I guess. Concerned, maybe, but still cute!

File Under: dailypicture, feeding, expressions

Fern on Flickr: expressions, feeding

Spelunk!

2006-11-11T21:36:00.000-08:00

Spelunk!

In case you hadn't noticed from the other photos, Fern is a fluent crawler now. Here, she manages to climb through the coffee table in search of further adventure... on the other side!

File Under: adventure , playing

Fern on Flickr: adventure , playing

Hangin' with Marisa

2006-11-07T21:28:00.000-08:00

Hangin' with Marisa

Just because we could, Fern and I went up to hang with Marisa who'd just come home from school. She's a freshman at the art magnet high school now... Unbelievable... remember this picture? Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, Marisa made us chocolate chip cookies (her first batch ever, she claims!) and sent some home to mommy, too!

File Under: Marisa

Fern on Flickr: Marisa

First time voter

2006-11-07T14:01:00.000-08:00

First time voter

Voting in California -- in San Francisco, no less -- is no small matter this time around; the ballot was five pages, front and back. (And yes, to those of you who think the Bay Area is all tech-savvy, we do, indeed, vote on paper ballots.)

So Fern's now a voter! She even got a little sticker saying ¡Ya Voté!, but promptly ate it.

File Under: representationalgovernment, outing

Fern on Flickr: representational government, outing

Playing catch!

2006-11-06T02:32:00.000-08:00

Learning how to play catch!

One exciting recent development is that Fern has learned (discovered?) how to play "catch" with us or with other children on the playground. She sort of bounces the ball away from her, occasionally aiming at her teammate, and then waits expectantly for you to retrieve it and throw it back. Next stop: the big leagues!

File Under: playing

Fern on Flickr: playing

The godmother

2006-10-28T20:34:00.000-07:00

Beth, Fern's godmother

Another post by Kristin...

Beth made a trip out to San Francisco this weekend to drop in on her goddaughter and found her ready to play! It's been years since Beth & I have had such leisurely time together --- what a treat it was!

Fern on Flickr: "Beth & Steve"

File Under: BethSteve

Grandma Joanie in San Francisco!

2006-10-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

Fern and Joan at the playground

Playing with the cell phone

Fern and Joan

Grandma Joan paid a visit this weekend. The weather was beautiful, typical of San Francisco in early autumn, so we frequented the playground. The first photo shows Fern in "the tunnel," a sloped cylinder that was her favorite place to crawl when she was still learning. Strange, really, because it's slippery and sloped, and so probably the very worst place to learn. I guess she likes a challenge!

Upon hearing that our cell phones have become Fern's favorite toys, Joan hunted down a baby-friendly cell phone with chewable buttons and various recorded sounds ("Hello?", "¡Hola!", and a cool ringtone that goes off when you shake it).

Joan also did another babysitting stint (you'll remember she was here for our anniversary) so Kristin and I could have our second postpartum date and both came through with flying colors!

I may be disowned for having taken a photo showing Joan's glasses... wait, are those glasses? I think it's just a trick of the light!

Fern on Flickr: Joan , playground

File Under: Joan , playground

northward bound

2006-10-15T15:31:00.000-07:00

grandma Lola & unca Greg

Hills, that is...

Elmo attack!

Continuing the weekend trip, Uncle Greg drove us up to L.A. to visit with Grandma Lola & Grandpa Alan (aka "Grumpy"). They gave Graham a brand new fancy camera for his birthday, so count on lots of fun shots in the weeks to come -- once he figures out how to use it!

I got a few more nice shots there; here's the link to the whole bunch.

File Under: LosAngeles , Laura , Alan , Greg

Fern on Flickr: Los Angeles , Laura , Alan , Greg