Boo

The next year, Vivian will be a princess for Halloween. And for the next decade or two. We get to pick this once - so she's a punk rocker. And then we accessorize with her. A family of punks. Vivian is Goth, Jo goes with purple highlights and pigtails - new rock punk I suppose, and I am old school.

Vivian loves her costume. She's a natural - black boots, black tights, a black tee ("My Dad Rocks"), and a Mohawk with a tinge of purple on the very tips of the fin. One thing she won't be mistaken for is a "Kansas City ....." by Erik.

Her cousins are a Motocross racer, a mermaid, a pirate, and a couple of princesses. Brandon is Tigger. Elanor is a bee. Simran is a blond glamorous actress with a pink boa. Essy is a ballet dancer in a tutu. Ana Maria is something bloody. Paul is a Jedi. Izzy and Sophie are princesses. Ben is in a black skeleton suit. Lennie scares the boogers out of the kids and most of the moms by standing around quietly in a scary mask and a St. Francis outfit. Nobody including myself have the slightest who he is till he pulls of his mask.

We slip in a Rocky Horror Show DVD for the kids. The adults stand around and chat. It's obvious that this year it's different. There are more than a dozen children running around, and one of Marta's Unbreakable Pinatas hangs in the backyard. The guests leave an hour after midnight. We don't have a single sleep-over. The hot tub remains idle. And Gunner doesn't do what he normally does on Halloween (hmmm - scratch that one - he wasn't here, so I don't know for sure).

Next year, if Grandma isn't working, maybe she'll be nice enough to chill with Vivian and we'll sneak in one last party like the old times before it's princesses for us. See our Halloween pics (and some others) in a slideshow.

The Providence Plantations

Yes - Rhode Island is not an island. The full name is "The State of Rhode Island and the Providence Plantations". The island part refers to the Aquidneck Islands, and the Providence Plantations part to the rest. Jo and Wikipedia informs us of all that and more when we visit Alu and Michelle at their new beautiful digs in the Ocean State.

Turns out the the good people of Rhode Island are Vivian's peeps. She can run for governor tomorrow and win. They love her. One morning, over a breakfast of pumpkin pancakes at The Nook, half the residents of the state stop by and chat with her. And she smiles and grins at the other half. After about an hour of this, Jo and I can't take it any more. We quietly skip out of the state with Vivian and head to Connecticut to check out USS Nautilus - the first nuke sub ever.

Vivian has her Uncle Alu wrapped around her little finger. Mission accomplished (no, really). We took some pictures in Alu's front yard - among the fall colors and leaves. See Vivian's new pictures in her flickr album.

Mother's Memory

Sandy K wrote a thoughtful reply to my post about Mother's Memory.

Mother's Memory

Sandy K wrote a thoughtful reply to my post about mother's memory (Jo's Theory of Mother's Memory) . Here it is in it's entirety:

I hated almost every day of being pregnant. No medical complications
at all (although the massively swollen, itchy legs, ankles and feet
were fairly awful), even wore my already snug wedding rings right to the
end, but I hated being gigantic and unwieldy (after a lifetime of effortless
thinness), detested not being able to breathe and eat without discomfort,
disliked all the attention from everyone from slight acquaintances to
complete strangers (being pregnant is like having a spotlight on you
everywhere you go - no anonymity possible), and constantly told everyone I
could not imagine why anyone would ever have more than one child. Then 7
days after Lily was born, I'm sitting there telling Ken that we will be
doing this again!

So why? The one thing I think I remember accurately and really miss is the
feeling of the baby moving, once she was far enough along to make herself
known. Lily was a swimmer, and I would lie here at night feeling her slither
and thump around, watching my belly ripple, and that was just the most
amazing experience. So that's the only rational thing. The rest of it comes
from the whole "wow, this is the most meaningful, scary and exciting thing I
have ever done in my life and I just can't really believe how wildly
absorbing every little thing this tiny scrap does is". As Lily grows and I
watch her just soak up everything around her, that feeling of surprise and
amazement doesn't abate, and it makes me want to do it all over again.
Finally, there's the pragmatic bit: At each stage with Lily, we have had no
idea what we were doing, no-one really to advise us (very few of our close
friends in Austin have children, and those who do have kids in college!) and
have had to learn on the fly. But once we master something, she's already
left us in the dust. So I just don't want all these barely used skills to go
to waste!

Eating Out

So we are happily eating out again. Vivian eats well at restaurants and finds something to eat anywhere. At Vivo's she loves the rice and beans. At EZ's, where the girl who took our money gave as a discount for a cute baby (serious), its squished steamed vegies. At Ruby's, where even the black beans are spicy, there's yummy whole wheat bread. She loves the rice at Hula Hut. And I can't remember where, but Mommy once made her an avocado sandwich.

We have learned that the instant our food arrives, there had better be something for Vivian to eat. We are at Satay for dinner with the Shahs. Our appetizers arrive - coated with peanut sauce - which we aren't feeding Vivian as yet. Jo fishes out a lemon wedge from her glass and tosses it at Vivian. She's done in five seconds flat and spits out the remains. Then she starts beating on the table with both hands.

The people at the table next to us had commented on how cute Vivian was a few minutes ago when they had walked past. Now they turn to see Khrushchev banging on the table. Luckily, our Tom Kha soup arrives in a firepot. Jo pulls out pieces of broccoli from the soup and squishes them for Vivian as fast as she can. All is good for a few minutes. But then we are out of broccoli and Khrushchev threatens to return. Manju saves the day - she spies her husband trying to eat a piece of broccoli at the far end of the table. A moment later, its been confiscated and fed to Vivian. The waiter arrives with dinner. The evening passes peacefully.