Our Little Queen has said good by to two and has greeted three with open arms.
"Now she's bigger."
Showing posts with label little queen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label little queen. Show all posts
27 July 2008
23 July 2008
question
Little Queen asked, "Mommy, why did you grow a crying baby?"
She is two-almost-three and does propose some compelling questions as of late.
As for Baby O, he doesn't cry sooo much. But he is rolling over already!
29 September 2007
(Mommy &) Toddler Adventures Part IIB: A Photo Journal
Thursday, September 13, we headed to the Midwest to meet Joseph Paul.
Isn't he beautiful?
Little Queen was smitten by his charms:
She also had fun acting silly with his big sis':
Friday, September 14, was the Feast of the Exhaltation of the Holy Cross as well as the official start date of Pope Benedict XVI's recent Summorum Pontificum. In honor of both of these events, Bishop Perry, an auxilliary bishop from Chicago, came to celebrate a Pontifical High Mass. The Mass was full of inspiring reverence, beauty, ceremony and an indescribably tangible dignity.
Saturday we visited the historical St. Joan of Arc Chapel at Marquette University. The history of this medieval chapel is worth a read. It is believed that St. Joan of Arc prayed in this very oratory. Unfortunately, we arrived minutes after it had been locked up for the evening. Ah well, next time.
Sunday was the baptism of Joseph Paul, for whom The Prof and I are blessed to be Godparents.
The ceremony was performed according to the Traditional Latin rubrics and included the "Churching of the Mother."
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The weekend was slow-paced, rich with quiet conversation, happy reunions, delicious meals and leisurly (daily) drives along Lake Michigan. Oh, and the old familiar feel of cooling Autumn afternoons and crisp mornings. Yes, a lovely and very worthwhile adventure.
25 September 2007
Mishaps and Adventures Part IIA: Open the Clouds!
Part I of this mini-series saw our beloved Little Queen quite literally in the depths following her mis-step. But in Part II we find her with her mama, quite unexpectedly taken to new heights.
Backing up a couple of days, on September 8-the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady and just two days before the fateful Pond Incident, Joseph Paul was born. Joseph is The Prof's and my new Godson. Ever since his dear parents had invited us to be his Godparents a few weeks prior, The Professor and I had casually talked about my going up to the midwest to partake in the baptism and spend some quality time with the newborn's mother. On the Tuesday following his birth and the Pond Incident we confirmed that the Baptism would be the following Sunday and late in the evening, I secured airline tickets for Little Queen and myself to make the trip.
It is an understatement to state that the other children were severely disappointed to be left behind on this unprecedented trip, but it had to be. Wednesday was spent in resale shops finding bargains on warm clothes for my petite travel companion. I had checked the weather forecast and, as usual, September in the midwest is quite different than here in Central Texas. (According to the Weatherbug on my screen, it is currently 82* at 10:23pm here at the Suburban Ranch!) Thursday morning, Little Queen and I made the first leg of our journey, driving to the big city, riding the shuttle to the terminal and climbing the narrow steps of the 70 passenger jet.
The bus and the airplane were firsts for this thankfully rather adaptable toddler girl. As the airplane lifted off the ground and began its steep ascent, Little Queen stretched her neck like a turtle straining for some out of reach food as she tried to make sense of the noise and the motion, all the while excitedly shouting, "Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa!" Actually the "whoas" went on for about a solid minute while her face read excited bewilderment. Finally, she exclaimed, "Little Queen is TALL!"
The only difficulty with that first leg of the trip is that Almamater was exhausted. The kind of exhausted where it is literally impossible to keep one's eyes open. I'd been up late the night before, gotten up early that morning, made a 1.5hour drive, single-handedly shuffled a toddler and our belongings on a shuttle bus ride, through the terminal and, finally, onto a plane and I WAS TIRED. Climb in and out of car seat? Yes. Eat? Yes. Have Mom read lots of books? Over and over? Yes. Sleep? Not a wink!
Another favorite activity was opening and closing the window shade. "Mama, Mama! Opin da clouds!" "Mama, Mama! Cose it!" Hey, it kept her quiet and occupied and I just love the "open the clouds" line. Open them we did. Each time a lovely surprise. Unfortunately it also kept Alma awake. I will confess that there are a few lost minutes somewhere in that flight, and whatever she was doing during those moments, Little Queen survived them.
We had a transfer at the Cincinnati airport-located, oddly enough, in Northern Kentucky. Wouldn't you know that little Firecracker was sound asleep before we even taxied to the runway? Of course, I didn't sleep a wink; I was past tired. She stirred when we hit the ground (if feels like a hit when you land in those little 70 passenger planes), but snoozed until I awoke her at the terminal.
Alright, that is enough for now. In Part IIB, I will have pics and a description of some of the highlights of our visit in the North.
Backing up a couple of days, on September 8-the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady and just two days before the fateful Pond Incident, Joseph Paul was born. Joseph is The Prof's and my new Godson. Ever since his dear parents had invited us to be his Godparents a few weeks prior, The Professor and I had casually talked about my going up to the midwest to partake in the baptism and spend some quality time with the newborn's mother. On the Tuesday following his birth and the Pond Incident we confirmed that the Baptism would be the following Sunday and late in the evening, I secured airline tickets for Little Queen and myself to make the trip.
It is an understatement to state that the other children were severely disappointed to be left behind on this unprecedented trip, but it had to be. Wednesday was spent in resale shops finding bargains on warm clothes for my petite travel companion. I had checked the weather forecast and, as usual, September in the midwest is quite different than here in Central Texas. (According to the Weatherbug on my screen, it is currently 82* at 10:23pm here at the Suburban Ranch!) Thursday morning, Little Queen and I made the first leg of our journey, driving to the big city, riding the shuttle to the terminal and climbing the narrow steps of the 70 passenger jet.
The bus and the airplane were firsts for this thankfully rather adaptable toddler girl. As the airplane lifted off the ground and began its steep ascent, Little Queen stretched her neck like a turtle straining for some out of reach food as she tried to make sense of the noise and the motion, all the while excitedly shouting, "Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa!" Actually the "whoas" went on for about a solid minute while her face read excited bewilderment. Finally, she exclaimed, "Little Queen is TALL!"
The only difficulty with that first leg of the trip is that Almamater was exhausted. The kind of exhausted where it is literally impossible to keep one's eyes open. I'd been up late the night before, gotten up early that morning, made a 1.5hour drive, single-handedly shuffled a toddler and our belongings on a shuttle bus ride, through the terminal and, finally, onto a plane and I WAS TIRED. Climb in and out of car seat? Yes. Eat? Yes. Have Mom read lots of books? Over and over? Yes. Sleep? Not a wink!
Another favorite activity was opening and closing the window shade. "Mama, Mama! Opin da clouds!" "Mama, Mama! Cose it!" Hey, it kept her quiet and occupied and I just love the "open the clouds" line. Open them we did. Each time a lovely surprise. Unfortunately it also kept Alma awake. I will confess that there are a few lost minutes somewhere in that flight, and whatever she was doing during those moments, Little Queen survived them.
We had a transfer at the Cincinnati airport-located, oddly enough, in Northern Kentucky. Wouldn't you know that little Firecracker was sound asleep before we even taxied to the runway? Of course, I didn't sleep a wink; I was past tired. She stirred when we hit the ground (if feels like a hit when you land in those little 70 passenger planes), but snoozed until I awoke her at the terminal.
Alright, that is enough for now. In Part IIB, I will have pics and a description of some of the highlights of our visit in the North.
19 September 2007
Mishaps and Adventures in a Toddler Week, Part I: Falling off the water
It has been a week and a half since Little Queen, as she describes it, "fell off the water" and I am still reluctant to commit the tale to written word. Naturally I have told and retold the events of Monday, September 10, but writing it is so much more in the first person. The children asked if I was going to include this story in our family blog and I admitted that I had been waffling about it for days. I asked if they thought it belonged here and they discussed it before giving me an affirmative response.
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I was already jittery that morning as we headed out to the park, as I'd had an unexpectedly heightened conversation on the phone first thing. In fact, a tranquil morning at one of our favorite parks seemed just the recourse for setting the day aright.
We arrived and parked near the pond where we planned to do some sketching and read a chapter from a new history book that had just arrived in the mail the previous week. The three eldest children went ahead, Firstborn rounding the curves of the pond in search of fish and turtles. This particular body of water is never clear and sparkling, but on that day it was entirely covered with green. So thickly carpeted, in fact, that one could not hope to see to the bottom.
As Little Queen and I approached, she pointed to a small clearing around some lily pads and exclaimed, "I see water!" As Firstborn continued to explore on ahead of us, I conversed with the girls about the condition of the water and intended to talk to Little Queen about the water as well. And then, in one of those ill-fated "I just turned my back for one second" moments, I heard the dreadful "ker-plunk!" followed by a scream from my Sunshine. I turned, looked at Sunshine and then to the water where her fearful gaze was directed. And then I saw what I'd heard, what she saw: our beloved Little Queen was in the water.
Completely. Submerged.
It is true what they say...in the next eighth of a second, I screamed, had a flash of past, present and future, prayed, and determined that I had one chance to get that toddler out of the water. I reached down and, in that moment, prayed again and knew that the next seconds would confirm or relieve us of our fears. Blessed be God. The moment her beautiful little face came out of the water, she released the most glorious scream I have ever heard. Blessed be her Guardian Angel. The scream was followed by fear-filled wails, but not one cough or sputter. My little girl had held her breath under that murky water and though scared, she was okay.
Little Queen is not impetuous around water. She is always a little hesitant even upon climbing into the bathtub. At the pool, she never goes deeper than the second step and won't even let anyone carry her in the water. And the water at this pond laps right up to the ground; there are no ledges or drop offs. But remember how I mentioned the carpet of green and the water she pointed to further out? Seems our Little Queen thought she was stepping out onto terra firma to get a little closer view of that distant pool by the lily pads. Imagine the shock!
As the only witnesses of this drama, Sunshine and I find we will never quite be the same. That moment when we looked down into the water and saw that little body helplessly engulfed in that brown-green fluid muck is an image that will be forever imprinted on our souls, a wrinkle in our hearts. Little Queen reminds me several times a day, at the most unexpected and seemingly random moments that she "fell in the water." She says it with a heightened tone, fearful expression and always searching my eyes for reassurance and comfort. Clearly the pond incident, as we have come to call it, has created quite an imprint on her little being as well.
There is no unique reflection I can offer as I wrap up this dreadful tale. Our response is cliched and connects us with every other person who has witnessed or been a part of a harrowing event. We are grateful. Grateful to the Almighty and grateful for all that we have. We have smothered our Little Queen with hugs, kisses, and been so glad to give her our very best. It seems Little Queen's fall off the water made is fall all the more in love with her.
-------------------------------------
I was already jittery that morning as we headed out to the park, as I'd had an unexpectedly heightened conversation on the phone first thing. In fact, a tranquil morning at one of our favorite parks seemed just the recourse for setting the day aright.
We arrived and parked near the pond where we planned to do some sketching and read a chapter from a new history book that had just arrived in the mail the previous week. The three eldest children went ahead, Firstborn rounding the curves of the pond in search of fish and turtles. This particular body of water is never clear and sparkling, but on that day it was entirely covered with green. So thickly carpeted, in fact, that one could not hope to see to the bottom.
As Little Queen and I approached, she pointed to a small clearing around some lily pads and exclaimed, "I see water!" As Firstborn continued to explore on ahead of us, I conversed with the girls about the condition of the water and intended to talk to Little Queen about the water as well. And then, in one of those ill-fated "I just turned my back for one second" moments, I heard the dreadful "ker-plunk!" followed by a scream from my Sunshine. I turned, looked at Sunshine and then to the water where her fearful gaze was directed. And then I saw what I'd heard, what she saw: our beloved Little Queen was in the water.
Completely. Submerged.
It is true what they say...in the next eighth of a second, I screamed, had a flash of past, present and future, prayed, and determined that I had one chance to get that toddler out of the water. I reached down and, in that moment, prayed again and knew that the next seconds would confirm or relieve us of our fears. Blessed be God. The moment her beautiful little face came out of the water, she released the most glorious scream I have ever heard. Blessed be her Guardian Angel. The scream was followed by fear-filled wails, but not one cough or sputter. My little girl had held her breath under that murky water and though scared, she was okay.
Little Queen is not impetuous around water. She is always a little hesitant even upon climbing into the bathtub. At the pool, she never goes deeper than the second step and won't even let anyone carry her in the water. And the water at this pond laps right up to the ground; there are no ledges or drop offs. But remember how I mentioned the carpet of green and the water she pointed to further out? Seems our Little Queen thought she was stepping out onto terra firma to get a little closer view of that distant pool by the lily pads. Imagine the shock!
As the only witnesses of this drama, Sunshine and I find we will never quite be the same. That moment when we looked down into the water and saw that little body helplessly engulfed in that brown-green fluid muck is an image that will be forever imprinted on our souls, a wrinkle in our hearts. Little Queen reminds me several times a day, at the most unexpected and seemingly random moments that she "fell in the water." She says it with a heightened tone, fearful expression and always searching my eyes for reassurance and comfort. Clearly the pond incident, as we have come to call it, has created quite an imprint on her little being as well.
There is no unique reflection I can offer as I wrap up this dreadful tale. Our response is cliched and connects us with every other person who has witnessed or been a part of a harrowing event. We are grateful. Grateful to the Almighty and grateful for all that we have. We have smothered our Little Queen with hugs, kisses, and been so glad to give her our very best. It seems Little Queen's fall off the water made is fall all the more in love with her.
06 September 2007
01 November 2006
Since I don't keep up with baby books...
The Little Queen is now 15 months old.
- She walks, runs, and climbs stairs confidently, but says no words yet. (Well, Firstborn and I are almost certain we heard her whisper "Jesus" as she pointed at a statue of the Little King yesterday. But not certain enough to call it official.)
- She shakes her head "no", and means it. Quite an advanced communication technique, I think. So hoping the Professor will pick up a camcorder before she stops doing that.
- She waves. Not just the little fluttering of fingers, but the open palm-whole arm motion. She does it with such determination and pride and with such a bright smile that when I go out, I find myself tapping on the window from outside, just to get another wave out of her.
- Little Queen loves to whisper. She has done this for months now. If we whisper, she responds at great length in a very intent whisper. She is also fond of leaning over and whispering in my ear during meals. Cute, though her siblings keep reminding her of Mommy's rule forbidding whispering/secrets at the table.
- Kisses. She has just discovered giving kisses. And blowing kisses. Precious.
- Praying. A pious Little Queen. When I announce, "Let's say grace," the Little Queen folds her hands. Beautiful.
Those are a few of the highlights; the things I really want to remember about the Little Queen at fifteen months. Of course, her skills are not limited to the short list above. For example, I am trying to train her to stay in the pew at Mass and have found that she has incredible problem solving skills. She will try to crawl under the pew on her belly, attempt to look busy with a missal and then suddenly make a run for it, walk sideways while smiling at me, and numerous other tactics which require me to use a skill motherhood has taught me: looking serious, when I really want to laugh and throw my arms around her.
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