3 Years Gone By...

Dearest, funniest, most imaginative Hahper Dahlin--

Today, you are three years old.  At this exact moment in time, you are tall, gangly, all limbs and long brown hair and eyes with killer lashes.  I have to refrain myself from exclaiming over how pretty you are, so you don't get a big head or think that looks are too important.  You are a mile-a-minute ball of energy who will pull every trick in the book to avoid bedtime...only to pass out cold for a solid 9 hour stretch once you've wiggled/sung/whispered/cried all your ya-yas out.  You are tenacious; insisting that other kids be your friend ("I'm talking to you!" you proclaim, your face peering a mere 3 inches away from theirs), or repeatedly jamming puzzle pieces around until you make them fit, or repeating your request until you've gotten your object of desire (or a suitable substitute).  Yet, you exhibit strange wells of patience and calm, be it when "reading" a book to yourself, allowing me to teach you songs, or talking to your younger bubba and letting his fingers rove your face while he coos.

Your favorite colors are "yellow and pink and blue."  Like your mama, you refuse to limit yourself to only one favorite of anything.  Your current obsession (now going 6 months strong) is The Wizard of Oz, and you were completely dazzled by the "ruby red slippers" and Wicked Witch doll you received for this birthday.  You have zero fear of the witch; in fact, you seem to believe her main objective is just to keep Toto as her own pet.  You adore "I'm Walkin'" by Fats Domino and the King's version of "Hound Dog."  Whenever Daddy gets home at the end of the day, you squeal and run for a hug, which utterly makes his day.  You have a monster set of pipes and abhor being shushed when you're crying...it only makes you holler louder ("I will not be quiet; I will cry LOUD!!" -- yes, we know).  You enjoy extra garlicky hummus, raw lemons, fish of any kind cooked in any fashion, pickles, olives, and fresh ground pepper on your entrees. 

You call your brother "my baby" and love to show him off to anyone who will listen.  You pet his head and like to kiss his eyes.  Other than your parents, Bubba is your biggest fan, and I love to watch his gaze follow you around the room.  You enjoy the villain characters in your movies and stories more so than the princesses, although you like them too.  You make me exercise all my old acting muscles by insisting that I portray various characters at the drop of a hat (just this week, I've had to be Santa Claus, Jafar, and the Wicked Witch).  You have a huge capacity for love, a memory like an elephant, the vocabulary of a 5 year old, and the fashion sense of Cyndi Lauper. 

I can scarcely believe that you used to be the length of my forearm, with jet black downy fur on your head.  The easiest baby ever, you're making up for lost time by now challenging your parents every single day.  You are 3 going on 13.  But tonight I will still snuggle with you and Pink Puppy, sing "Embraceable You" (you call it The Mama Song) and "Hide Your Love Away," and tuck you in with a kiss.  I will do all these little-girl-and-mama rituals as long as you'll let me.  I'll continue to pray for your health and safety every day, and I'll go to bed excited for all the new independence, ideas, and discoveries that this year will bring for us both.  You are my own special girl, and I love you always.

--Your Mama

Her Vessel's Home Port (or, "HD Sings of Her Hometown")

A LOT has been going on the past few weeks.  We hosted the in-laws for Easter, I left the Hubs and HD for a much-needed gals' trip, and Hubs and I celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary.  I'm still working on the post to sum up the trip after a couple of weeks getting back into the swing of things at home and work.  Oh, and have I mentioned that starting next week, I'm going part time at work???  [Although, it sounds like a bigger deal than it is -- I'll be 90% time, which equates to every other Friday off.  Still, more time with le bebe and laundry!]

So to tide y'all over until the extra wordy posts come, I give you, HD singing her new anthem:

She attempts to segue into "I've Just Seen a Face" by The Beatles (a.k.a. The Harper Song), but gets stuck on the "I can't..." opening to one of the lines.  She sings the ENTIRE song normally, but is a bit skittish around cameras.  Apparently, she did not get my hamming for camera genetics as much as previously thought.  Let's try that again:

We plan on opening our own cabaret.  [Oh, and "1,2,3 Max?"  That's her making up a ditty about Where the Wild Things Are.  We're still trying to figure this kid out.]

Words from My Wee Bairn (or, "Things HD Says")

So, we've been getting a lot of comments from folks about the kid lately.  Comments that infer people believe she's a year or two older that she actually is.  I'm still trying to figure out if this means people are blown away by her brilliance or they just think my itty bitty (who isn't two until June) looks like a preschooler.  She's not big, but she is pretty tall and has a lot of hair for her age.  So it's a toss up either way.

I'll leave it to you, dear readers.  Here's some photos courtesy of one of the moms at HD's daycare, along with a list of the most recent HD-isms.

• "See-ta-tay-toh" = sweet potato.  As in, "Go restowant for see-ta-tay-toh fies!" 
• "Sah Fasis-sko" = San Francisco.  She has a book of SF sites, and she loves to bring it with us when we go up to the City.  We did Fishermen's Wharf yesterday, and I can definitely attest that my baby is a city girl through and through.  
• "I want need."  No seriously.  She says "need" like it's the objective noun.  Full stop.
•  She constantly requests "The Harper Song," which in actuality is I've Just Seen a Face by The Beatles.  This is at times shortened to "ha-song" when she's getting frustrated that I won't sing it for the 14th time before 6:45am.  
• "I can't wait to go to school."  So I made up a really stupid little ditty for HD when she was a tiny baby, and I still sing it for her.  This example is one of the lines from the song, and she says it at random.  Perfectly enunciated, which is hilarious.  She thinks school at this point means daycare. 
• "Uh oh, mangoes!"  She heard the sing-song "uh, oohhh Spaghetti-os" bit from her father, and tried saying it somewhat unsuccessfully (I swear it sounds like "uh oh, bagels").  For whatever reason, she switched the saying to mirror her favorite fruit.  Cracks me up.
• Finally, we have The Mantra.  When HD does one of her toddler freakouts and she's in instant tears, either Hubs or I will say "Relaaaaax."  And she finishes the mantra as follows: "Relaaaaax.  Chill OUT.  Caaamm dowwwn.  Be cool, bay-bee.  Das right!"   And it instantly stops her tears, which is awesome.  

 --

Verily, a Call for Grog an' a Hornpipe (or, "Birthday Party")

"Verily" is perhaps my favorite term in pirating lingo.  But I digress...much earlier than normally in my posts.

Awhile back, Hubs asked what I wanted for my birthday, and I had an instant reply: "To be utterly removed from any party planning."  I am more or less the social director/type-A control freak of our little family, but now and then a matey needs a break.  He did little more than ask for a guest list and run a few ideas by me.  All in all, Hubs is wonderfully capable without my micromanaging!  He planned a great night, with a good mixture of spontaneity thrown in.

WE DID KARAOKE.

Ok, y'all.  It had been a solid couple of years since my pipes did any public singing beyond belting Yo Gabba Gabba tunes in the grocery store to calm a peckish HD.  Color me stoked!!  Item one last Saturday was to dispatch HD to her grandparents' house for the night [Side note -- HD loves her grandfolks, but she threw a snotty-nosed, puddle-sized tear, heaving sobs fit when we tried to leave.  She's been going through major mama separation anxiety a little later than most kids.  She's fine once we leave, but any tips on easing this is appreciated. Comment or email me!].  Item two was to don my best grandma sweater and hit up the unspeakably delicious Dosa for a little quality date time with just Hubs.

Hubs secured a private room at a joint in Japantown, complete with plastic liter bottles of Korean beer and delicacies like seafood pancakes.  There was even a glorious fruit platter.  The room was long and skinny with black vinyl booths, sort of like sitting in a semi-janky stretch limo.  We met up with a slew of friends and brothers and got the party started.

My lovely sis-in-law, rocking the crescent tambourine.

A little warm-up tune.

Hubs and me, now both officially sailing strong in our thirties.

Behold, the glory of a packed private karaoke chamber! Note the fruit platter.

The song options were beyond off the wall.  You had some standard show tunes, top 40, some basic country hits.  The typical variety you'd expect, but with weird little gems thrown in -- like the main tune from School of Rock.  My karaoke twin Shana and I bogarted the mike most the evening, slamming down ditties like "I Would Do Anything for Love" and "Glory of Love".  Because, you know, those are some serious jams.  Hubs did a stellar rendition of "Physical" as an homage to the week of my birth, and my fave Toto song.  We were treated to jokey takes on ditties by Mariah Carey, TLC, Blackstreet, and Boyz to Men.  We made excellent use of the applause button on the karaoke controls.  It was a blast.



And I even busted out a Johnny Rotten impression (which most of our guests kindly ignored).  You can feel free to do the same.

The night rounded out at local bar Blur, where we grabbed a sweet huge booth.  I also was treated to some tasty Sheep Dip.  Then, Hubs and I bid good night and proceeded home.  And for the first time since HD's been alive, we spent the night in our own home without her (we've spent nights away from her, but only if we're in a overnighting somewhere for a wedding or event).   The next morning was the biggest luxury ever, sleeping in until 8am (a HUGE gain for us over the standard 6:30) and going out for breakfast.  Once we retrieved HD, we made it up to her by taking her to Golden Gate Park to ride her beloved carousel:

The past few years, my birthday has been very low-key, which has been perfectly lovely.  But it was still nice to be made a fuss over.  Thanks heaps to everyone who was able to come, and to those who called me anyway to show some love.  This will easily tide me over for another 10 years :)

Pirate in Red, with Crew o' Reindeer (or, "HD Meets the Big Guy")

We've definitely been a little holiday-themed here at The Dread Pirate Mama, but that's kind of the way the daughter is rolling lately.  Kid is obsessed with St. Nick.  Hubs and I had to wake her up yesterday morning, and the first words she uttered the actual second that she opened her eyes were "Santa Claus!"  Keep in mind that HD's only 1.5 years of age, so it's not like she's got a complete understanding of presents just yet.  To her, the Santa excitement doesn't stem from the bringing of toys...it's more the fact that he's basically a new puppet-type character in her life, like her beloved Cookie Monster.  He's a brightly colored squashy dude in an outlandish outfit with corresponding songs and catch phrases. 

She demands Santa songs at odd times of day, usually while being changed.  She takes ornaments from our tree and lays them at the feet of our 10 inch Santa figurine like sacrificial offerings.  She runs around the house chanting "ho, ho, ho, Meery Keefmiff."  So when Hubs and I talked to HD about visiting Big Santa Claus (not to be confused with our little figurine), she could barely contain her excitement.  I was wary, as I have heard many a story about toddler freakouts once in the presence of Santa. 

Last week, we headed to our small town's local fire house.  The amazing firemen hold a free event there each year, and it is 18,000x better than any mall Santa experience.  They have free hot drinks and cookies, a coloring station, and a big pile of actual snow out on their driveway (HD takes after her mama, and flat out refused to touch the stuff).  As the crowning glory of the event, Santa Claus hangs out in a black leather easy chair so the kids can visit him.  We went in the beginning of the event, and got to witness several nervous kids throw mini fits over visiting Santa.  Not so our HD.  Kid full on broke away from Mama and sprinted to Santa.  Thank goodness there wasn't a line to see the big guy.  She was in awe, and all smiles.

We decided to give Santa a break from all the love and allow other kids to visit him.  HD was only mildly pouty about saying goodbye, but was mollified at the coloring station.  Here's her I'm-so-not-sitting-in-the-cool-lap face:

Before we left, there was again no line for Santa (weird since the place was crawling with kids, and he wasn't a creepy Santa).  And HD sprinted up for a return visit.

You may be wondering, in the midst of all this Santa-love, have we discussed the true meaning of the holiday with our child?  Why, of course.  But only because one of the kids at day care taught her how to say "little baby Jesus."  She's now named one of her baby dolls "Little Baby Jesus."  This doll is a Cabbage Patch looking babe with pig tails that my grandmother sewed years ago -- the Jesus moniker would definitely would have warmed her Catholic heart to no end.

Yo Ho Ho Ho (or, "Christmas Tree Is Up!")

November was National Blog Posting Month.  The idea is that you try to post once each day for the whole month.  Let's just say that whoever picked November is masochist.  I was doing ok, and then the holiday and all its preparation kicked in.  So...glazing over the past couple of weeks?  The busiest time of year at work (for me, anyway) passed in a whirlwind, HD impressed everyone by chowing brussels sprouts at Thanksgiving, and teething incisors is the work of the devil.  You're all caught up! 

We focused this weekend on getting our Christmas on.  Heading out to get a real tree, we ended up getting dazzled at Home Depot by a glorious imitation 7.5 foot Black Hills Spruce, completely pre-lit with LED lights.  Both Hubs and I are from families with a known legacy of fake trees, so we jumped.  We put HD down for her nap, lit my mistletoe-flavored Yankee candles to complete the illusion of our faux tree, and got to work.  The beauty took about 15 minutes to put together (*choirs of angeles sang*), so we got to dive right into ornaments.  We thought for about 35 seconds about how to toddler proof the tree.  I personally think methodology should vary from kid to kid.  Our nugget?  Curious, but relatively obedient.  She puts stuff back if we tell her too...repeatedly.  Rather than go all out with a baby gate to block off the tree, we decided to stick it in a corner (protected on at least 2 sides without even trying!) out of her normal path of destruction (i.e. it's in the dining rather than living room).  

Upon waking from her nap, HD came down to behold the essence of merriment.  We even saved a few ornaments for her to put on.  She got so excited, she full-on attacked me.  I have the mussed hair to prove it.

But it's all good, because then I got her to say Merry Christmas for the camera.  Eh, sorta.

Kid has also taken a recent shine to that Santa Claus fellow.  She points him out everywhere, and repeatedly reminds us that he is coming to town.  Anytime she's thrown a fit this week, that song has talisman-like soothing qualities.  I think the "better not cry" line is what tames our beast.  HD also has rediscovered the same love of nutcrackers that she demonstrated this time last year.  We have a pirate one on our mantel (natch), which totally made her giggle last year.  Vid below was neigh on impossible to shoot -- me holding baby, maneuvering nutcracker and attempting to film all at once.  But I'll leave y'all on that note, so I can get back to my hot chocolate.

Remembrances of Yore (or, "Nostalgia? Eh, Kinda")

This is a video from one year ago.  Was flipping through old files and it brought a huge smile to my face.  I don't normally get nostalgic for HD's teeny weeny days.  Don't get me wrong; I loved having a cuddly little bug who was the smiliest baby ever.  It's just that she honestly gets more and more fun (albeit more and more...um...challenging) with each passing day.  But this video?  Let's just say that the kid still cracks up whenever Mama pops out of a hiding place.  I guess some bits just never get old.  Hopefully it still works as a tension reliever in HD's teenage years.

Portraits of a Babe (or, "You Try Photographing a Toddler")

To all the people who consistently demand photos of my daughter -- I completely understand.  She's cute, and you want to see the cute.   I honestly appreciate that you take an active, non-creepy interest in my kid and her blessed genetics ( thanks for passing down your good looks, Hubs).  And like any proud mama, I love to show her off. But capturing her mug on film is much easier said than done. Witness the attempted shots from this morning.

As evidenced, Miss Diva HD does not pose on command. It's candid shots + a prayer that'll she'll be still for 3 seconds = 1 usable shot out of 7.

Methinks a SLR camera may be on the list for Santa this year.

PS -- my phone only allows photos to be posted sideways when I blog from the phone.  Boo.

Wicked be My Laughter (or, "Baby-Related Halloween Leftovers")

I was lucky enough to have two really lovely baby showers when I was pregnant with Miss HD.  Both were casual, full of good friends and family, and mercifully game-free.  Very little kitsch, which is just my style.  But I got to say, if kitsch gets to be totally tongue in cheek and, well, BADASS, then this is pretty awesome: A Night of the Living Baby Shower.

I'm now fervently wishing that a close friend or sis-in-law is one day pregnant in a future October, and I can pitch this idea.  Although I may be the only person I actually know who's gaga enough over scary movies to find this both delightful and hilarious.  You're allowed to express your complete horror over my sense of humor in the comments.