I missed it

Today we got a new president and unlike the rest of our fair city's True Blues, I spent the inauguration in transit - away from TV and radio. Didn't hear a word of it.
The saving grace was that I was with Nora. We strolled along in silence through the foggy morning, the streets uncharacteristically empty and disappearing into grey within a few blocks.
While I was fretting about not getting to be part of the celebration, she was happily chirping about dogs and hats and shoes. Things could have been worse, and at least we have YouTube.

Happy New President, baby girl. I hope you never have to endure another 8 years like the ones we just had. I hope your history is taught very well. I hope you grow up with an appetite for justice and understanding instead of just a bad taste in your mouth. I hope this president (and those that follow him) inspires you with his success as well as his failures - as opposed to making you wince every time you hear his voice.
This is a very big day and it's another ordinary day. You live in a country great enough that good things like this, while painfully rare of late, surprise us less than we think. We know how to deal with good news. We know that goodness never goes stale, never goes out of style. We never stop recognizing goodness, no matter how old and cynical and cautious we get.
Here's to expecting the best from now on. To falling down 7 times and getting up 8. To shining a light on fear and owning up to our mistakes.
This is your president, Nora. I hope and pray that he keeps you safe and that respect, hope and dignity are qualities you come to expect from your country and your world.

And he's getting a dog!

It takes 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days (and a 1/4)

Once upon a time, there was a very little girl who used to be even littler but was getting even bigger. She was so big (even though very little) that she was old enough to have one candle lit with one match and one birthday crown next to one symbolic little house on top of one little table in her own little every day house (which was really an apartment on the top of a very tall and very old building).

Every day this big-little-little-big girl did ordinary extraordinary things, because that is the way it is with little girls who are big (and little).

Most of the things she did looked just like this:

And that is where this story never ends, because it is always beginning.

Happy Birthday, Nora Somerville Jorgensen! You are the dearest little-growing-ever-bigger daughter.

(many thanks to Emmy for the photos...and please find a few more here)

Coughing the cough

The first time or the 51st time, having a cold is no fun.








Okay, maybe a little fun...








...but not really.

Talking the Talk

Nora has a word.

There are several words she understands and a few she uses with vary degrees of baby ability. "Papa." She's had this down for awhile. When she first started saying it, it was but a whisper, usually spoken upon waking. Now she says it with confidence and can point Papa out in photographs. Sometimes she calls me Papa, but most often it's more like "Mapba" with the "pba" more heavily accented. I am also "Mama," but sometimes that just means she wants to nurse. "Mum" definitely means she wants to eat and most usually it means eat an avocado. She will point to your or someone else's nose if prompted with the question "Where's my nose?" She can say "bye" and wave like a champ. (A champ who wants you to leave, I suppose.) She sort of maybe sometimes says "up" when she walks up stairs. "Uh oh" makes a regular appearance.

But now she has a word that can truly be called her first.

Hat.

She first started saying it the day after Thanksgiving. This is no big surprise as she spent much of Thanksgiving playing with a rather becoming fedora belonging to Uncle Nathan. Auntie Erin heard her say it first: "hhaaaaTTTT." She really worked at that "t" sound. Then she said it a few times the past few mornings. Then she got shy about it and would look at hats if we said hat but not say it herself.

Until today.

This afternoon Nora and I were in a classroom doing some observation for one of my teaching jobs. After saying "bye" to all the kids as they left for recess, she started to say "hat" with much purpose. And pointing. Because...there was indeed a hat in the room, a good ol' cowboy hat. Clinched: can say word, knows what word means, identifies object in place other than home. She's been "hat" "hat" "hat" "hat" "hat" all day long.

She tips her hat at the tip of her tongue to you all right now!

Walking the walk

As promised, video proof of Nora's first independent two-legged forward propulsion accomplishment. I don't know what that means, exactly, but she also took a bunch of steps by herself!
The first clips are at home and the rest are at Uncle Nate's girlfriend Tania's house on Thanksgiving day. How apt, I know.
A couple of notes: The 'Dumbo' comments are in reference to Dumbo's feather (i.e., he thought he couldn't fly without it) NOT to the level of my daughter's intelligence. Also, some of the videos are sideways. That's just the way it goes.
Enjoy!



UPDATE: Still photos also capture the first-step moments.

An Historic Event

It's Election Day! Finally! Each time I woke up last night I was filled with the birthday-Santa feeling of the morning to come. Now that it's here...well, I'm blogging some patriotic family photos until it's time to head to Tougo for some community rallying and nail biting.

Firstly, we all got dressed and grabbed our voter registration cards:

I'm enfranchised!

Okay, so only Nora is dressed for the day in this photo.  But lo, Basil and I followed suit (oh, ha, HA!) and headed to the polls:

What, you don't have a polling station in your backyard?  We look pretty happy here, but not pictured is how we were turned away from our actual polling place.  Yep, turned away:  our names were not listed on the precinct register.  Awhile back--and in plenty of time for it to take legal effect--Basil and I decided to remove our absentee status so that we could take Nora to the polls and physically vote.  Both of us have fond memories of joining our parents at the polls in our youth and we wanted to be able to tell Nora the story of how She Was There! at this historic election.

We got our new registration cards noting that our absentee standing had been removed...but also received absentee ballots in the mail.  Upon arriving at our polling place, we learned that we could not make our dream to vote in a booth with Nora a reality.  Luckily, we did not have to fill out provisional ballots...although we're a little bit concerned about what will happen with our absentee ballots when counting comes.  Turns out we were not the only people to whom this had happened at our precinct.

Moving on...

We'd filled out the absentee ballots just in case...all but the oval for Presidential Candidate.  So that part is still part of Nora's political history:

Ah, yes, Mama is indeed for Obama.

Dad...doesn't rhyme with Obama.  No matter!  That's not how it works!  VOTE!

Another childhood polling place memory was that "secret ballot" meant that you weren't supposed to disclose your final choices.  Later I figured out it just wasn't discussed at my house because my parents always supported opposite candidates.

These completed ballots do not cancel each other out.

Next up?  Nora and I will join the Culvers at the aforementioned Tougo.  Basil's got rehearsal with his band.  I hope you all have similar support as your election day continues, that we all find companionship, comfort and commonality in the fact that we--as active members of our democracy--voted.  Here's to continued voices heard, regardless of outcomes. Heck, embracing outcomes.  (Definition of "embrace" to be defined following results.) Here's to hope.

What Big Eyes You Have!

Eeeeek!

I, uh, didn't see you there.  Trick or treat, you say?  I'm sure Granny won't mind...

Hmmm...no, that's not quite it...well, that's better...ah, perfect!

Happy Halloween, everybody!

(With special thanks to Auntie Jesse for the cape.)