diva's 3rd birthday

My baby girl is 3!

All she said she wanted for her birthday was cake and for kids to sing "Happy Birthday." Since we weren't having a party for her, we got permission from her Thursday playgroup to bring cupcakes.

On the left are "cookies 'n' cream" and on the right are "pumpkin chocolate chip with cinnamon icing" (both from Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World) - the latter I managed to make soy-free. I liked the chocolate ones better (of course), but Eliza really enjoyed both! And it looked like the others kids liked them, too.

Eliza had a great time Thursday. There was a tie-dye project, but she was too distracted by the swimming pool and other kids.

Thanks to Jen for the great photos from Thursday (posted with permission). My camcorder was missing its memory card, so I couldn't take my own photos, so that's why these are actually in focus.

On Friday, her actual birthday, her dad took the day off work. We started out the day at music class (as we do every Friday morning) where Miss Carol ended class with "Happy Birthday" on the resonator bars. Eliza looks still and quiet, but it really made an impression on her. She spent nearly a week talking about the playgroup kids and Miss Carol and the whole puppet theater audience singing "Happy Birthday" to her. Extended celebration indeed.


After music class, we had some down time at home before going to the puppet theater in Balboa Park to see a bilingual show of "The Little Red Hen" and "The Rabbit on the Moon." There was a sign at the box office to notify them of a child's birthday, so besides the song, Eliza got a coupon for a free visit and a giraffe finger puppet.

We had planned to visit the pumpkin patch in the post-nap afternoon, but poor Chris was out for hours until early evening for what I thought would be a very short errand. One of us had to pick up the monthly co-op goodies and the other had to bake a cake - we both thought he got the quicker job. I baked "apple cardamom cake with lemon-maple frosting" (Vive le Vegan!), and it wasn't terribly attractive with that beige frosting, but it was so good - moist and a little dense like carrot cake. It was more nutritious than the cupcakes with considerably less sugar, but then again, we didn't have a big group with which to share. We each had a slice a day until it was gone.

Finally, we made it to the pumpkin patch on Sunday. The above photo is from the hay ride, which Eliza thought was fantastic (see crinkled nose). Eliza was so excited to pick out her own pumpkins (to paint). Chris and I each got one to carve, and threw in a white one that we'll stuff with chili and bake.

I managed to make it through her birthday without crying (although I almost lost it when I said good-night to my 2-year-old knowing I'd wake up to a 3-year-old).

she finds her voice

It's a bit of a paradox that while Eliza is such an adventurous child that she also tends to be shy, especially around adults. Ask her a question and she'll bury her head in my side to avoid your gaze.

Eliza has seen Miss Carol, the music class teacher, nearly ever week for more than 2 years, and although Eliza speaks very warmly of Miss Carol at home, as soon as we get to the studio she clams up. She thoroughly enjoys music class with all the rhythm instruments, marching, and dancing, and it's all she can talk about from the moment she wakes up on Fridays. But once there, she won't say a word except to whisper something in my ear, and she certainly wouldn't sing . . .

. . . until today. At first, I heard her singing the lyrics to the CD music very softly, almost whispering. But then when the stretchy band (think a giant 8-foot-diameter rainbow-colored scrunchy) came out for the song sequence of "Twinkle Little Star," "Baa Baa Black Sheep," and the ABC song, she sang quite clearly. With each song, her voice grew louder and more confident until it was one of the loudest in the room. I was astonished. Miss Carol looked quite surprised herself and afterward said proudly to the class, "this young lady knew every word to every song" and beamed at Eliza. Eliza promptly buried her head in my side.

It will be interesting to see if today was a fluke or if Eliza has changed her tune about singing outside home.

On a side note, the one time in music class that Eliza becomes quite outgoing is while dancing. In our home, music plays for hours a day. Sometimes I flip through the radio stations, and other times we listen to CDs from our small collection or the public library's enormous one. Eliza dances to anything and everything. Chris and I were discussing this recently since he was the one who has always said he thinks she'd love a dance class more than any other. I told him there was a little studio just 1½ miles down the road that has "creative movement" for 3- and 4-year-olds and wondered what he would think of that for later this year or early next year. I was a bit surprised when he suggested it for Eliza's 3rd birthday present (I thought he'd say "next year," especially in light of the camera incident).

Eliza now has an inexpensive black leotard and pink tights, which are going to be her Halloween costume (at least they'll be useful for fun dress-up clothes even if Eliza decides she doesn't like a dance class). I called a dance studio in Brooklyn about its vegan ballet slippers, knowing that they're often back-ordered, and sure enough they were. The studio near our house insists on pink slippers, but the Brooklyn studio only has white in stock, so I was told to call back in a few weeks to see if the pink polished canvas fabric has arrived - if it hasn't, I can order white slippers and dye them myself, but considering the last time I dyed anything, my hair looked like it had been nuked, I'm a bit hesitant. I may have to resort to begging a crafty friend to do it for me in exchange for baked goods.

tiny dancer

Late again. I was so focused on the grocery trip that I forgot we had music class until it was half over. Although the studio is just a few blocks away, we only managed to catch the last three songs of class.

Miss Carol has called Eliza her "little dancer" every week for over a year. Dancing has always been Eliza's favorite part of class, even when she was an in-arms baby. No matter how otherwise sad, angry, or indifferent, she always snaps out of it (temporarily) to dance. She doesn't just throw her body into it, she feels it in her soul.

Today, Eliza was having a partially indifferent day. She had no interest in playing the drum before her, but she happily crawled into my lap for a cuddle-and-snuggle song that precedes the goodbye song. When everyone stood up to leave, Eliza leapt to her feet. "That was easy," I thought, having feared she wouldn't want to leave after just a few songs. But she didn't follow me to the door. She stood there with her arms out, saying something I couldn't hear above the din. I went to her and asked her to repeat what she said. "Mommy, please dance with me?" I held her hands and started to dance without music. She stopped me: "No, no. Wait for the music." I was surprised because she has heard the same goodbye song every week for 2 years, and she knows what it means, but we'd never been this late before.

I suggested we stop off at home to dance before going to the store, but she quietly and sadly turned me down. Miss Carol had even kindly offered to let us stay for the next class as we were leaving, but when I asked Eliza what she wanted to do, she just said to go to the car. Was she sure? "Yes," she sighed, still sounding sad. Once in the car, I reiterated my suggestion to dance at home, but she again said no.

I let her down - all because I was too scatter-brained to remember which day it is. Perhaps she'll feel like her usual self once she wakes up from her nap.

just my luck

Every time I think of something to post, I've forgotten what that was by the next time I have time alone with the cursed laptop (its AC connection is so wonky that it goes into hibernation mode every 20 seconds to 5 minutes, making composing a simple e-mail difficult).

Kvetch #1: On Tuesday, I spoke with the bike shop manager, who informed me that he could put on a temporary fork. I told him as wonderful as that sounds, we couldn't afford a few hundred dollars at the moment. "Oh, no," he protested, "cost of labor only." I was confused because I was told a few weeks ago that it would cost hundreds by an employee, who was himself confused. We fork over the fork when the permanent part arrives from Timbuktu. He continued, "it will be ready for you within the hour." I was speechless to think that these two months stuck at home could have been avoided for $20.

Although the bike shop is just two blocks away, the errand took nearly two impossibly long hours. Eliza outright refused to hold my hand despite traffic roaring by at 50+ mph. I literally had to carry all 32 pounds of her most of the way there - my back was crying. The way back was even worse as she still refused to hold my hand, but that time, I had a bike to steer in addition to an angry diva. When she wouldn't budge for anything, I had no choice but to sit and stay until she decided to move a few more feet; I couldn't carry her and steer the bike. It was so much easier making trips to the bike shop when I could just plunk her in a mei tai (yes, I know it's technically still possible, but she's so heavy now).

I arrive home exhausted and miserable, but at least the bike was fixed. The car was mine on Wednesday! I wish I could have gone somewhere more exciting, but I needed to make a trip to the co-op, and it was either then or at night. No problem - I was planning to go E's playgroup's craft day on Thursday. Little did I guess that DH would leave for work on his bike Thursday only to return five minutes later . . . with a flat tire! Since he got a flat tire just two days before March's crash, that means he got a flat two of the last five days riding the bike.

I could have gotten the flat fixed Thursday, but I wasn't about to have a repeat of Wednesday afternoon's adventure. So I went back to being housebound for a couple more days.

Kvetch #2: One of the few places we can go within walking distance is music class. DH dropped us off (along with the stroller) in the morning. All was going well in class until Eliza came crashing down on my lap at an angle, literally knocking my kneecap out of its joint!* I shrieked in pain. It was only a mild dislocation, which snapped back immediately, but my reaction frightened Eliza badly. For ten minutes, I held her as tears streamed down her face. I reassured her that I was going to be fine, but she was so shaken that it took some time to calm down.

It took the better part of an hour to limp the mile home.

Can I add a third kvetch? During the composition of this entry, my laptop has hibernated at least a half dozen times. Next post, no kvetching - I have photos of Eliza's aquatic-muffin-duck masterpiece.

* I've had "trick knees" since ever I can remember. It's not a problem I think about much anymore because Southern California's climate means there's never ice to slip on, twisting my leg and knee - what used to be a frequent problem back east only now happens once every year or two.

spring plans

As it turns out, spring will be more than half over by the time I have the car again, but a couple weeks ago when I was more optimistic, I tinkered with our chart (which lost pretty graphics when I uploaded it to Google).

Eliza only has one "class" at the moment. She has been going to Musical Children since she was 5½ months old - more than 2 years now! She was in a toddler tumbling class for about a year, which was once the highlight of her week, but we dropped it in December when overcrowding (coinciding with a bout of stranger anxiety) took out the fun.

The library's story time might be a good out-of-house activity. Our nearest library is beautiful - the building itself has stained glass windows, and there's a duck pond outside.* We used to go on Wednesday afternoons for more than a year (before I buried myself in library fines). Story time is every Tuesday at 10 for kids 3-6 years old (there is no toddler story time). At 2½, Eliza is tall and willowy, a full head above many 2 years olds, so based on physical appearance alone, no one would suspect she's not yet 3, so the only question is . . . would she sit still for a half hour? C feels it's worth a shot; after all, if Eliza is restless, we could remove ourselves and go to the duck pond - no money lost (it's free) and we only went 2 miles to get there.

Once the weather improves, we can start going again to the aquatic center 1½ miles away, which has a children's aqua playground in 18" deep water.

* I still remember the first time I took Eliza there as an older baby. After I checked out a few books, we sat in the adjacent meadow enjoying the sun while Eliza examined the wildflowers. When I told C about it later that day, he couldn't stop laughing. "So let me get this right. . . . you were nursing your cloth-diapered vegetarian flower child in a meadow. You are a hippie!" How droll. :/




(Photos on right are from her 2nd birthday; in the baby photo, she's 9½ months old.)