Memo to Emmy: 36 Months

Holy Camole Guacamole Emmy!

That's what you like to say when things just blow your mind. And that's what I think about you turning 3 years old today. You are a beacon of happiness and light in our lives. You're growing like a turnip. If a turnip were a fast growing, talkative, questioning, twirling, sweet dervish of a vegetable child.

So many milestones in the last two months: you moved into a new room in a new house, became a big sister, and started preschool.

Oh, and you also got three staples put into and taken out of your head because I, The World's Worst Mommy, was getting you into the big new shiny shower and I, The World's Worst Mommy, allowed you to slip and fall backwards. Never have we heard you say, "But I just want to go to bed," until that night when Daddy had to take you to the ER.

You were so brave and so strong and you soldiered right through it. I cried harder than you did. How I wish I could've taken those staples right in the eyeball instead. But, just like everything else, you weathered the whole thing like a champ, and your staples came out clean. Thank you ER physician's assistant.

I hope that if you ever decide to shave your head, you will think that inch long scar is evidence of your street cred. Or you can just tell everyone how you managed to grow up despite being raised by The World's Worst Mommy. I'm working on getting that trademarked. Because I need some sort of mega millions idea so that I leave you a giant empire to make up for being The World's Worst Mommy. But first I better get that estate plan drawn up.

Talk about a model big sister. Now that you've amassed no fewer than 4 different "Big Sis" T-shirts, you've taken on your new role with gusto. And by that I mean, you are not jealous of Dessy at all, but you also mostly ignore her unless she's crying, at which time you will often say, "Maybe it's her diaper!" You are very helpful with retrieving wipes, diapers, Kleenex, anything within your line of sight that we request. You will kiss Dessy or wish her good night or do anything we ask for your little sis, but you're otherwise content to walk by and simply observe that "She's awake, Mommy, she's awake!" Introducing this new babycake has not messed with your mojo one bit. You are as sweet as ever. It's like Dessy is a new chihuahua in the house, cute, but irrelevant to your well being. I am totally OK with that Emmy. I know things will be very different in a few years so I will savor this period of sweetness bordering on indifference.

White Grandma, Daddy and I all separately came up with this adjective to describe you: stoic. You're the Joan of Arc of 3 year olds. Nothing fazes you and you take every transition and head wound in stride. I don't know where you get it but you are such a baller. I want to be on your team when you grow up. 

One of my favorite parts of you going to preschool is coming early to pick you up. While the veteran moms and dads chit chat, I spy through the window to see you interact with your teachers and classmates. You love to pipe up during reading time and you're never too far from a teacher during the pilgrimage from the playground back to class. But it's super cute when we see you go up to another kid and ask the questions Daddy suggested. Emmy: "What's your name?" Kid: *mumbles her name* Emmy: "What's your favorite color?" Kid: "Blue." Followed by: Silence from Emmy and Kid. Conversation: Over.

It took 5 classes before you came home and announced, "I didn't cry today!" But it's still a delicate balance for you. The teachers say you are very good at "gathering yourself" after an emotional moment. Sometimes something happens during that 2 and a half hours at school that still prompts some tears. Like when you were practicing for the big singing event with your class. There's a part of the song that goes, "The daddies on the bus say 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'" Well, that reminded you of your favorite person in the whole world, and you burst into tears. When the school director told me that, I almost burst into tears. You and your Papa Bear have such a special bond and I know he will never let you down. 

Funny enough, that reminds me of what you love to say right now when you don't know what to say. You say, "I love you." It's like your little placeholder for when you don't have the answer or we ask you something and you're unsure how to respond. You say, "I love you. I...love you! But. I love you." It's another Emmyism that your dad and I have incorporated into our vernacular. So when I've accidentally misplaced Daddy's phone and he's trying to go to work and he can't find it and asks me where it is, I say, "But. I...love you." 

You are getting really good at counting past 20 into the 30's and 40's and 50's, but when you really want to express huge quantities of things, you say, "Is it 2 hundred T-Rex million?" Because T-Rex units are obviously a LOT. 

So Emmy, Happy 3rd Birthday.

We love you 68 zillion T-Rex hundred thousand billions.

Papa Bear and Mama Bear

Christmas Card Contender

This was our other option for the Christmas card this year. Forgot about this one. Took it at a beautiful wedding at the Grand Island Mansion in November. The same wedding where Emmy had a diarrhea BLOW. OUT. We had to throw away her white tights and do some serious sink bathing in the women's bathroom.

It was UNREAL. She started squirming about halfway through the ceremony, and we thought the surprise lollipop was going to take care of it. But this was a force of nature a lollipop could not come close to stopping. Right after the vows and kisses, we took her to the bathroom to see if she had to go. That's when the realization struck. Poop pie in the underwear, down the tights, and on my unsuspecting hand. Tears and scrubbing ensued. Emmy does not like to get messy. And she especially does not like pooping herself, since she hasn't pooped in a diaper since she was 8 months old. I had to call The Good Doctor in from the hall, and we barricaded ourselves in that tiny powder room for a good 15 minutes. Knock knock? "SORRY. IT'S GONNA BE A MINUTE!" was our mantra as I cleaned her little bottom parts in a tiny, Victorian sink and used up about 50% of the paper towels set aside for the wedding guests. It smelled awesome in there when we were done. 

Poor girl. We knew it was not like her to be all restless and fidgety. No more MSG lunches in downtown San Jose with our toddler. And definitely not before a big event.

Fortunately for us, a spare pair of underwear, a tracksuit and Elmo shirt saved the day. It was not the cute dress and tights she came in, but at least she didn't smell like a zoo for the rest of the night. And as you can see, her spirits were not permanently damaged by the blow out. 

Holiday Ho Ho Ho Down

Hope you had a lovely holiday with your family!

We lucked out this year and celebrated with both sides after a last minute 3 day weekend worked out with our schedules. The only mishap--I left my Nikon SLR at home, but I had my new point and shoot Canon with me for the trip up north, so we were still able to capture some memories. As I like to say, "Unless I have it in picture or video form, it didn't really happen."

My aunt, uncles and cousins from my mom's side of the family. A tanner bunch than The Good Doctor's side.

Emmy and her cousin Jason. She turned to him at one point during the weekend while they were playing and said, "Jason, I love you." To which he responded, in typical 3.9 year old boy fashion, "Yeah" before continuing to play with his Hot Wheels. Does that ever really change?

Aunt T and Uncle D. It's weird how toddlers can actually play the matching game and make matches. It surprises me every time. They really are as smart as rats!

Emmy and her Uncle Whit, Aunt Juls and Grace and Lauren.

And the annual post-stocking group photo on Christmas morning. Tripods are my best friend. Those hats courtesy White Grandma and Walgreens Santa. They are so lightweight and comfortable and you will see me walking the dogs in mine for the rest of the cold season. 

Christmas afternoon, Emmy back in her Kohls dress. That was $19 well spent on polyester and fur trim.

The last photo of Christmas 2011. Someone's all smiled out. What's that in The Good Doctor's hand you ask? It's a piece of homemade toffee we were using as a bribe for "one more picture, Emmy! Look at Grandpa! Smile!"

Christmas Cards 2011: Behind the Scenes

Compositing our card together was SO much easier this year because everyone just had their mini photo shoot in front of Kiet's big green screen. The real work was done in post, when Kiet had to photoshop all of us together, using his Christmas tree as a backdrop.

Let's start with the four legged stars of the card. Tofu drew the short straw, and because she's only about 4 pounds, we actually did hook her to a hanger for the money shot. This is what dogs look like when they're thinking "WTF?" The buggy eyes really add to the expression.

Romeo had it a lot easier. He just had to sit still while we dangled string cheese in front of his face.

 

Good thing The Good Doctor didn't have that extra side of hash browns. He did the most heavy lifting (again) this year with the whole 'hang from the garage rafters' deal.

My job was relatively easy. Act like I was falling backwards inside an ornament. 7 months pregnant with an extra 35 pounds of belly weight balanced on Rachel Roy heels? Never fear. I defy physics for two things: fashion and photo sessions.

And now to the star of the show. You saw the finished product but here are some the finalists from her shoot.

Her profile shot:

And I just love her smile in this one. She loves a good dirty joke.

 

And lastly: the finished product. Many thanks to Kiet Do, our creative, patient, brilliant friend and de facto photographer. May he always be up for the next big idea.

 

Christmas Cards 2011: Final Product

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

We knew it was going to be tough to top or even match the physicality of last year's card. Pregnant Vicky don't do no split jumps. She don't do much, period. But she can pretend to be trapped in an ornament. 

The Good Doctor and I have completely divergent memories as to who came up with this idea. I specifically remember myself being the idea originator and somehow he has the same recollection, only it was his idea to have Emmy hanging us as ornaments.

Don't worry, since it's my blob, and you're my friends, I know whose side you're on.

 

I'll post the behind the scenes photos next. Tofu and The Good Doctor tied for most difficult position to achieve. Note: Romeo is not cut off in the actual card. For some reason (my technical incompetence) I can't get this picture to re-size properly without cutting him off but trust me, Romeo's rump is in full effect in the actual card.

By the way, Asian Grandma and Asian Grandpa only noticed Emmy at first. Then they noticed The Good Doctor. Everyone else had to be pointed out. To which Asian Grandpa immediately responded with, "You should put a note in the card telling people to look closely at the tree."

Of course, I pooh poohed that idea. Come on, who's not going to notice us dangling around like ornaments?

Alex Bozovic, that's who. He's a photog I work with. You know, the type of guy who uses his powers of observation like, EVERY DAY. He just thought, "Hmm. Just a picture of Emmy, huh? Last year they were so creative." Good thing he has a wife. With eyes.

Alex Bozovic: 0 This year's Christmas card: 1