Lucy Archives - Page 27 of 59

Reminiscing

August 5, 2009/2 Comments/in Happiness, Lucy /by Megan

For me, it’s easy to remember her as a baby. A little gloworm, wrapped up tight, screaming at the top of her lungs. I remember the smells of old milk on clothes and no-tears baby shampoo. I remember the rocking, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

What’s harder for me to recall, is the time after. The time when I finally started to sleep again. The time when she started to become a person, not just an abstract blob.

So I watch videos and look at pictures and remember how amazing it was (and still is) to watch her change. To watch her learn to talk and dance and sing. To watch a video where she has just learned the sounds that animals make, knowing now she can spell those animals names and will tell you what they eat and where they live. Back then she would say “moo” and we would clap with delight, our voices in a high pitched squeal at our little angel’s obvious smarts.

Now she claps for herself. When she gets it right, she is the one squealing. But I need to remember to squeal too. To clap and play and laugh out loud at a ridiculous volume. Because that’s how we got here in the first place.

Tunes + Farm Animals from Megan on Vimeo.

Spoiled

July 30, 2009/1 Comment/in Blond, Happiness, Lucy, Videos, web /by Megan

I’ve been a Macintosh lover and user for years. I guess it all started in high school, when the only Mac computers in the school resided in the journalism classroom, where the epic “Mentor” newspaper and “Blue M” yearbook were created. While most kids took a while to get used to the glory of the Macintosh (Where is the CTRL key?! How do you right click? What the ‘eff does CMMD mean?!), I quickly took to those silly looking computers with the time clock wait icon. When I decided to become a journalism major in college, I was pleased to find the whole school used Apple exclusively, and when I got my job as a video editor with the school, which lasted throughout my college career, I knew I would need an Apple of my very own.

Enter my beloved “Macaroni,” a G4 Powerbook which has stood by me for many, many years. It’s been through five major moves in four cities (including Florence, Italy), and countless You Tube videos. Though it doesn’t hold battery charge now and is basically obsolete, I still love my Macaroni, and refuse to give it up. That is, until it can be properly replaced (suggestion: here).

And my Mac love doesn’t just extend to computers. I have been the owner of way too many iPods, including my first, a pink iPod Mini given to me by Trent as a Christmas gift oh so many years ago. That was followed a few years later with a Video iPod, and a hand me down iPod Touch. But now, ladies and gents, now I have entered a whole new world of Mac dependency.

I have an iPhone. And not just a 3G, but because of some crazy billing error, the new 3Gs. Please, let’s have a moment of silence.

This phone is the best electronic tool I’ve ever laid my fingers on. I use the Google Maps GPS feature instead of printing out directions, I downloaded a sound machine app to help me sleep when I can’t settle down, I check Twitter way more often then is necessary, I can listen to Pandora or any NPR station in the county with just a touch. And having my music, videos, photos and phone all in one device isn’t bad either.

But the best part, for me, at least, is the new video feature, so when Lucy gets all cute at a Royals game, leading our section as team cheerleader, I can capture it and share with you.

Or when Mara is trying to avoid me, I can easily annoy her.

Or when I need to entertain my kid with random questions, I can capture her insane reaction.

But I’m certainly not wasting time taking videos. I spend most of my iPhone time checking my work email and calendars. And the stock market. And the weather.

Yup, it’s all about the work. Practicality, people. Uh huh. Totally.

[cough, cough]

Mean Girls

July 9, 2009/1 Comment/in Blond, Grumples, Lucy /by Megan

The other day I headed to Lulu’s school to pick her up after a very long workday. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, from a long holiday weekend and the work pileup that resulted from it. I checked the classroom first, then realized that the kids were out on the playground and rushed outside to grab Lu, as we were (of course) running late for her first swimming lesson. On the playground I noticed two little girls being talked to by a teacher in the corner, while Lu and another girl were riding bikes. The other girl’s mother was there too, and as the four of us walked out of the playground, a teacher stopped us.

“I just wanted to let you know that the girls have had a rough afternoon. They [points to Lu, the other girl, and the two little girls in the corner] have been fighting, saying mean things to one another, basically a girl fight.”

And then, “I just really never expected this out of girls this young. The older girls, yes, but not these ones.”

The other mother and I just stood there, looking like we were in trouble ourselves, our heads hanging and mumbling “sorry” to the teacher who stopped us. We both told her that we’d have talks about being nice to our friends and the four of us shuffled out of the park. The other little girl yelled that she wanted Lu to come for a playdate, and Lu asked the same. We both said no, maybe next time, and exchanged a look.

When we got in the car for the trip home, I asked Lu what had happened.

“Well, Mia* and Jenny told Emily [the girl that Lu was playing with when I picked her up] that we don’t like her anymore and she’s not our friend and she can’t play with us.”

“Did you tell her that? Did you say anything to Emily?”

“No.”

“Were you nice to her?”

“I just stayed with Jenny and Mia. Emily got really sad.”

At that point, I almost started bawling. I mean, I was ready for an outsider, a nerd who reminded me of myself as a kid. But I never, ever expected I’d have to deal with Lulu being one of the mean girls. I’d always assumed she’d be the one on the other side, getting teased, not the one doing the teasing. And I couldn’t believe we were already talking about this stuff. I mean, she’s THREE!

After a few days to reflect (and many, many talks about treating people kindly), I’ve started to look at the situation a bit differently. I suppose a big reason is because Lulu’s daily teacher told me she’s had to talk to the girls several times about being nice, but Lucy always seems oblivious, and if she’s in the middle of it, it’s strictly because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She even told me, “I’d never expect that out of Lucy. She loves everyone. And everyone loves her.”

Another part of me has started to get a bit angry. I mean, why do we have to label these kids as “mean girls” at three and four years old. Why can’t females at any age disagree or argue without being labeled at all? I mean, geez, if these were boys, we’d be all “Well, boys can be boys,” but with girls we make a big deal out of it. I understand that boys and girls are different, and fight differently, but if a boy would have done this, I’m sure we’d just be thanking him for not hitting or resorting to violence. “Use your words,” we’d say. But when girls do it, they’re “mean girls.” Why?

I suppose all I can do is keep teaching Lu to value friendships and kindness, and continue to make it very clear that I won’t tolerate a “mean girl” in my home. I guess encouraging the nerd in her can’t hurt either. I mean, we don’t want her to end up all Lindsey Lohan-ed out at age twenty-three, right?

Like mother, like daughter

June 11, 2009/0 Comments/in Lucy, Photos /by Megan

This year, for her birthday, Lulu got a digital camera. I know, she’s spoiled rotten. But my mom and dad wanted to get her something nice and they gave me $100 to do it. And trust me, that kid was not getting a scooter. Unfortunately, Lu’s inherited my balance problems. So instead I got her this Vtech digital camera in PINK! (via a recommendation from Nicole) and she’s been following me around snapping pictures of everything in sight since. Yesterday I cleaned off her memory card and after only five days with the thing, she’d taken over 200 pictures (and one video?). Granted, many of them were of the floor or someone’s shoe, but there were a couple shots in there that weren’t half bad.

Classic “Mama’s Mad” shot. It think I was telling her to put the camera down and go to bed. I look very stern, no?

Lu got a couple of princess crowns for her birthday, and they have been good subjects for her camera. There are also several pictures of me dancing around with the crowns on, but luckily Lu cut my head off in most of them.

This is Lu taking a picture of me taking a picture. Click here to see my final product.

This is what most of her people shots look like. If they’re not headless, they’re definitely eye-less.

Along with the crowns, she also got a pair of fancy dress up shoes. She keeps trying to cram them on my giant feet, and I’ve never felt more like the ugly stepsister. Except when I could hear the shoes breaking underneath me. Then I felt more like Shrek.

You can see an entire set of Lu’s photography (I think I’ll call it, Lutography) here. Beware, most of the people pictured are missing their heads. You’ve been warned.

Three Years Old

June 3, 2009/3 Comments/in Happiness, Lucy /by Megan

Dear Lucy,

Today you turn three years old. I know, I don’t believe it either. How could we have gone from this…

to this…

…in only three years. It’s insane. I truly believe I may just be dreaming and I will wake up in our old house in the West Plaza covered in spit up at any moment.

I struggled to write this letter, Lulu, mostly because there is just so much to say, and no words will ever be enough. This is the first year you’ve been really excited for your birthday and you understand what is about to happen. “I get presents! And pink flowers! And pink balloons! And a pink pinata!” In fact, I think our house may look like it’s been covered in a thin layer of Pepto Bismol considering all the pink that will permeating every nook and cranny. You love pink, it’s your favorite color (besides green and red and black and did I know that black in Spanish is negro? Why yes I did, Lu, thanks) and you will not allow anyone else to say it is their favorite color as well. When someone dares to say, “You like pink? I like pink too,” you will quickly and sternly correct them that pink is YOUR favorite, not theirs. My little Lu, a dictator in the making.

Other than your love of pink and dancing and baby dolls, you are mostly a tomboy. You love soccer, and are the youngest kid in your soccer class at school. I debated on whether you were too young to be already playing a sport, but you love it and since it’s during school it doesn’t seem to wear you out like I thought it would. Your favorite friends at school are boys, particularly one little dude who tells people you are his girlfriend. You just smile and laugh and tell him “Nah, I’m not your girlfriend, you’re my BEST FRIEND.” Then I go in a corner and cry because you just told me yesterday that I was your best friend, but I was quickly replaced by the three year old boy with the big brown eyes.

But truly, you do tell me I’m your best friend on an almost daily basis, and even though you now tell everyone that, I will never forget that you told me first. And each time you do, I thank my lucky stars that my kid loves me so very much. Then you usually ask for a “huggie” which means you will squeeze me until your arms hurt. Seriously, little dude, huggies are the best.

Lulu, we’ve been through a lot in the last year. The biggest change was our move from the city to the suburbs, something you handled way better than I did. I mourned the loss of an old life, old friends, our old house, but you were more excited about the new than the loss of the old. You loved your NEW ROOM, NEW SCHOOL, NEW FRIENDS, and that excitement is what got me past my sad phase and in to my happy place, where spending a Saturday afternoon at the Home Depot doesn’t make me want to vomit. You love the Home Depot, and when you play pretend at the park like you’re driving someplace, you always say you’re going to the Home Depot and then to Dora’s birthday party. Sounds like a nice little Saturday.

Oh, kiddo, you are the best thing on this planet. I don’t know what else to say. The person you have become is so charming, so hilarious, so fun, you are everything I always wanted to be as a kid. You are cooler than I was at twenty-three years old, let alone three. You are the most wonderful combination of your father and myself, a true nerd with no qualms about telling the world what’s what. I know that someday, probably sooner than I want, you’ll be influenced by your friends, your peers, to be something you’re not, and I want you to know that who you are, right now, is the most fantastic person. Your light shines brighter than you will ever realize, and your pride in who you are is one of my favorite qualities. You think you’re the coolest, and you’re totally right.

Thank you for singing me songs when you think I’m sad and for dancing with me in our empty living room. Thank you for liking good music and for asking me to turn the radio up whenever you hear a song you know I like. Thank you for running up to me at the end of a long school day screaming “Mommymommymommy! That’s my MOMMY!” and then hugging my legs tightly. Thank you for storming off in a huff with your arms crossed saying “You’re not listening to my words” when you’re mad, as it cracks me up.

When you were an infant, and wouldn’t nurse even if you were starving, I made up a song for you using the letters of your name. For some reason, though I have no singing voice and the words are totally lame, whenever you heard this song, you’d calm down, eat and drift off to sleep. Lately, you’ve begun to sing this song all by yourself, and though it may be the dorkiest song in the universe, when you sing it, I feel my heart jump. You’ve been listening. This whole time, when I thought what I was saying or doing didn’t really matter, it turns out, it did. I am molding this gorgeous little girl in to a real live person, and so far, so good.

Love always,
Mama

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