Daddy Tree: Tiny Footsteps

Willow's playtime universe continues to grow. Rapidly. Witness. In the midsummer heat, I take Willow out to our shaded backyard in the morning to play. And play she does. She climbed into her swing first. After I pushed her for a while, I got her out of the swing and put her in her wagon so she could help me convey bags of sand from the garage to the backyard to fill her sandbox (part of her new swing set) and her water table sandbox. She took rake and shovel and played in the sandbox for a bit. Then she waddled over to the deck and started to climb the steps to get to the water table. She played in the sand a bit, but most of her time was used dipping water up and out of the water part of the water table. Most the water ended up all over her. After that she wanted off the deck to go back to swinging. Instead I retrieved the new tricycle Cherish procured from a Franklin recycle center and cleaned it up. Willow loved the trike, holding on to the handle bars while I pushed her...

We're back from Beach Trip No. 2, this one to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. Everyone had a good time, and we all enjoyed our time with family. Even though that was the big highlight of the trip, time with family, for Che, Willow and me, Willow might bend your ear more about another thing that happened on the vacation (if Willow could say more than "dadadada," that is). Che and I know spending time with family was Willow's favorite part of both our beach trips, but her second-favorite part of the trip to the Outer Banks wasn't the sand or the toys or the pool or the surf or the sun or the bike rides. No, siree, Bob. If our little chatterbox could actually put together sentences that you and I could understand, she'd go on and on about the hulking gray puppy dog of a great dane we saw at Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. We saw the pup as we were getting pictures in front of the lighthouse after some of us climbed its 257 steps (then dizzyingly descended those ...

I was going to clean the bathrooms during Willow's afternoon nap, but after much thought on the matter, I've decided to contribute to the blog instead. Aren't you guys lucky? God knows Willow loves her naps, but it's hard to convey this to other parents without having a solid anecdote to share. The stories don't get any more persuasive than this: Willow started tugging on my shorts just a few minutes ago. She'd had a nice snack, some milk and some play time already (and she didn't care to get in my lap, thank you very much), so I leaped to the next possible conclusion. "Willow, do you want a nap?" Willow is getting to how to say a word here and there, but they're no more complicated than "Da," "Ma," "bir(d)" and "Doug" (ducks, dogs or Dougs but not dug). Anyway, her answer to my question was as clear as a mountain stream. Heck to the yeah. Willow whipped her head toward her bedroom and took off at h...

As Willow grows (and those little teefers start filling her mouth), Che and I can't help but notice how she looks like this person or acts like that one, how she looks like a young Katee on this day and how she reminds of us toddler Bristol on that day. At any given moment, she can look like Che or me or Gran or Mimi. But there's one striking and quite specific trait that's standing out right now -- "the strong face," aka "the cold face." This is right out of cousin Rett's playbook. A few years back, when Rett was a toddler and we were at Myrtle Beach with my side of the family, we had a grand time getting Rett to do the face. I'm not confidently sure, but I think my sister called it "the cold face." I called it "the strong face." She'd ask Rett to do it, and he'd tense up his arms in front of his body as if he were trying his darnedest to conjure up a spell, and he'd clench his teeth and shake a little. To me, ...

I almost did it! Several times throughout the first months of Willow's life, I was able to get her from the car to her room without waking her, but that was when I was carrying that handy-dandy car seat with a handle on it. And she lay sleeping in her car seat in the floor of her room. She has long graduated from that car seat, moving up into a much larger one, and one without a handle. Since then, I've gotten her asleep from the car into the house, but somewhere along the way to her room, she always wakes up. This morning we ventured to Kroger to pick up some produce for a meal Che is cooking Wednesday night. On the way back home, Willow fell into a slumber. I got her out of her car seat constraints, into my arms and up the steps into the house without waking her. Then I tiptoed through the dining room, kitchen, living room, hall and into her bedroom. So far so good. I even placed her on her back in her crib and took off her sandals (these have buckles, so no easy task ...