All Aboard the Choo Choo Train

Sometime back we rode the little train at Zilker Park. Vivian likes trains.

waiting for the engineer/conductor

yea - we're off

peering down at Barton Creek

a go at the swings after the train ride

A Werid Week

One Sunday afternoon out of the blue, Jo's Aunt Roxanne passed away. Vivian was on Carol's lap when Michelle called to tell us. Just as the news started to sink in, Vivian clutched Carol by her finger and said "Ganma, read book p'ease." Carol held her and read.

Later in the week, Jo and Nicolle and Carol made plans to go for the funeral. While I was negotiating new baby sitting appointments with Ana (Vivian's babysitter), we ran into something due to which we had to terminate Ana's services. Vivian really liked Ana and Ana was very fond of Vivian.

And then Jo was gone for three days. When Jo had gone to Italy last month, I told Vivian that Mommy was on a vacation. That would hardly do this time. So I explained that "Mommy is on a trip to Nebraska". We went to Carol's on Friday afternoon to await their return. Vivian is used to being met at the car by a licking Kerby and a barking Jamba. She was was surprised to find the place empty. Mournfully, she asked for each one. "My gan'ma?", "My Kerby?", "My Aun'Cole?", "My cousins?". Soon after she woke up from her nap, everyone returned and the world slowly started spining again.

In the picture below, Vivian is looking at Ana. I think it was the last time Ana came. And in the next picture, Vivian looks sombere - which is rare.

V Tweets

The semi-luddite that I am - I finally joined twitter. Yes - you can now follow my inane thoughts in shorter but more frequent installments. But here's the logic: Vivian says lots of funny stuff through the day. I can't remember enough to blog later. The timing and content seems to be perfectly suited for tweets instead. I don't anticipate anyone following Vivian's pearls on their phones. I see it as a way to get short bursts of content to my blog.

Excuse the language. I still own one of those old-fashioned cell phones. It takes 8 key presses to type "you" (yyy-ooo-uu). Or 1 for "u".

Busy For a While

Vivian got out her water colors and was painting at the dining table this morning. I made her and myself some breakfast and brought it to the table. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Vivian - it's time for breakfast"
She: "Daddy - I busy"
Me: "When will you eat?"
She: "I painting. I busy for a while"

Instead of a nice and simple "no", she says stuff like "not now", "later", "not yet", not today", "maybe"....

I tell Jo that Vivian can't possibly talk back for the next 17 years. May be she'll grow out of it by the time she gets to her teens.