Esmé and Mommy

Walking!

So long, pirate crawl!

Dock Dogs

Is there a better way to celebrate the birth of our nation than by watching dogs jump as far as they can into a swimming pool? We decided there was not, so we spent our 4th of July weekend in downtown Houston watching these talented pups do just that. Dock Dogs is a national championship of dog jumping that takes place every year. The dogs are led onto a raised platform, then their master tosses a toy into the pool and the dog eagerly (or not so eagerly) goes galloping after it and belly flops in the pool. Whoever jumps the farthest wins. Meanwhile the crowd cheers and says 'ahhhhh' to the especially spectacular or especially pathetic jumps.

The park was full of dogs and dog lovers--one of whom is our little Esmé. She smiled and pointed at all the puppies and even pet a few of them.

{photo from here}

{photo from here}

Maybe you can't tell from the pictures, but on this particular day it was hotter than the surface of the sun. It took a lot of self-restraint to keep from belly flopping into that giant pool myself, it was so sweltering! Look at poor baby Esmé's red, sweaty face:
Thankfully there was a fountain at the park where we could play and cool down--sort of. By the time we were all so wet that we couldn't tell if it was from the fountain or from our own sweat, we knew it was time to call it a day. We bid farewell to the wet dogs and took our wet selves home to sprawl out under the A/C.

It was a good day.

One Year

Our girl has gone from this (June 29, 2010):


...to this (yesterday):
There was ample reason to celebrate having made it one whole year together! Some days have been exciting, some have been boring, some have felt never-ending, and others unforgettable. But I feel truly blessed to have spent every single one of those days with my girl! And the fact that she has survived with us in charge of her is reason enough to celebrate!

Though we do miss having our family here to celebrate with us, we did get to open presents via Skype with them. Here's Esmé's package from Tutu's and Aunt Natalee.

On Sunday, we had dinner with our friends, the Parkers, and ate a little birthday cake.

Here is Esmé with her first boyfriend. I think that's pretty impressive to already have a boyfriend by one year old. It took until about 17 for me to get one.One more round of opening presents via Skype with Grandma and Grandpa Wright:



The night before her birthday, Roo and I were watching The Return of the King, and I couldn't help comparing how Frodo felt while climbing up Mount Doom to how I felt the night I was giving birth to our little Esmé. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But of course it was worth the difficulty. We love our little girl so much more than we could ever have imagined a year ago! She amazes us every day!

Presents from Natalee & Grandma Tutu

Untitled from Annie Phillips on Vimeo.

Annie's Art Initiative

I've decided I need a hobby. I found that after I had cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned and put the baby in her crib to nap, I didn't know what to do with myself. This resulted in my getting way too many naps, since taking a nap was far more attractive than doing more chores during my free time. Feeling slightly guilty for spending so much time unconscious, I knew I had to find something (productive, if possible) to fill my time. Something even more seductive than an afternoon cat nap.

I spent some time brainstorming new hobby ideas. I also searched the internet. Here is what I came up with. (I blame the stupid ones on the internet):

• Breeding guinea pigs - Then I thought about what that would entail...and I realized I wouldn't even know where to start. Literally. No idea where--on the guinea pig, I mean.
  

• Participating in Viking and/or Saxon historical reenactments - Pillaging and plundering aside, I dig the sailing aspect of this potential hobby. Unfortunately after putting some feelers out in the apartment complex, there doesn't seem to be much enthusiasm for historical reenactments, at least not Viking or Saxon. And I couldn't manage a Knarr (that's the Norse term for a ship built for Atlantic voyage) on my own. Maybe a Karve (that's a smaller ship, similar to the Knarr), but definitely not a Knarr.

• Watching endoscopic surgeries online - I decided I don't want to know what I look like on the inside. I don't think whoever's colon that was would want me knowing how they looked in there either.

• Learning songs backwards - Then I thought, what is the point of this?

• Wittling sticks - Too hard.

• Wittling soap - Too hard.

• Wittling crayons - Too easy. Also, they break like twigs. And your options are pretty narrow as far as your end result goes. You can carve a tree branch, a person's leg (foot not included), or a straight snake. Boring.

• Scrapbooking - I'm better at wittling crayons.
  

• Taphophilia - A Taphophile is someone who takes an interest in tombstones. They look at them and do rubbings of the engravings and, I think, generally just hang around in graveyards as a hobby. So, that actually sounds pretty interesting to me. But did the term 'Taphophilia' make you a little nervous? Me too. Realizing that part of becoming a tombstone enthusiast would require me being known as a Taphophile pretty much killed (pun intended!) this hobby for me.

• Napping - Based on what I'd come up with so far, this one was looking pretty good again.

• Playing Guitar - That's really only good if you're trying to impress high school girls, which I am not.
  

• Sports - I know what you're thinking: it would be pretty unfair of me to make all my teammates and coaches and stuff look so bad at sports when compared to me. Agreed. I should probably never play sports. Ever.

So I settled on the old classic, Drawing. I love art (wittling excluded) and did some drawing in my younger years, so I pulled out my old sketchbook and now try to work on my drawings as much as I can. This is what I've done so far:

Lips

Spheres

A well-known Taphophile

To All the Fathers in my Life:

Thank you for teaching me what a good man should be.

I love you!



It was Esmé's bedtime one evening, and Roo had volunteered to put her down. I happened to pass by her bedroom door and I saw the two of them there. Roo was holding her, her tiny fist was grasping his shoulder, and he was holding each of her stuffed animals up to her face, having them tell her goodnight. He picked up her little kangaroo and her little Aunt Beru action figure and Esmé touched them. I just watched the two of them together and I thought, this might be one of the best moments of the day, or the week, or really, of my life.

Thank you, Roo, for being such an exceptional 'dada'!