The Candy Fairy

Letter to my daughter

Dear Amelia,

For your first two birthdays, I wrote you a letter on your birthday. They began, "Today you are one," and the next year, "Today, you are two."

12 days ago, you turned three.

This year, you have taught me about time. Time is funny--as the saying goes, the days are long but the years are short. Sometimes, when you were two, the days did seem long. But now that your second year is over, it seems to have passed in a flash.

I already miss your two-year-old self, and you are already changing into a three-year-old. You say amazingly smart, knowledgeable things. You are, shall we say, a little bossy, and sometimes even outright defiant. Your brain seems to go a million miles a minute. You are changing into a wonderful, brilliant, hilarious little kid, almost before our eyes.

Looking back, though, I think I did my best to savor the time you were two. Here is what you taught me about time. You were so much fun that I finally learned to stop, really stop, everything else to play with you--as you learned to play pretend, and do crafts, and do puzzles, and make up your own games with dolls and "small things" and books and a million kitchen utensils. I (again, finally) learned that you can only get so much done in a day, and to let the rest (mainly the housework) go. (It's true! Our house is really pretty dirty. I am proud.) I learned that a good day does not and never will include marking everything off of my to-do list.

Still, I am a little sad about how few blog posts I wrote while you were two. I know some happy moments and some milestones and many, many funny things you said have slipped away unrecorded. But I also know that while they were happening, I was present for them. I'll never be perfect at living in the moment, but this year, with my funny, sweet, fun-loving, fascinating two year old, I think I got a lot better.

Looking back over the past year, I especially remember all the fun times we spent with friends and family. One day in particular stands out--on a lovely spring day, we were at the Botanic Gardens with our friends Sarah and Navi, and you and Navi were busy being two, making a huge mess of our lunch, bringing tiny rocks to the picnic blanket, talking and negotiating with each other, and alternately climbing on your Mamas like baby koalas and running so far from the picnic blanket that it made me and Sarah nervous. And I thought how much I loved having a toddler, and how insanely lucky I was to be able to spend the days with you doing such wonderful things. You have given me countless similarly beautiful days--thank you.

Amelia, you are a joyful girl, especially when there is "something new." The year you were two was the year you learned about Halloween, about balloons, about birthday parties, about amusement park rides, about packages in the mail. "I'm exciting!" you said when you were excited, and you were excited about so much, including your first day of preschool. As I picked you up the first day, the phone rang in the school, and I could hear you exclaiming with delight, "All the kids said, THAT SCARED ME!" You are delighted in the world, and I hope that never changes. And you have given me more joy than I ever could have imagined. I love you, whatever age you are, and I always will.

Love,

Your Mama

For the fan club

Birthday cards, presents, and Halloween costumes! 

And for the true fans, 40 seconds of a sleeping baby at the end.

The Big Three

 On October 5, we woke up to snow.

Dean told Amelia the sky gave her snow for her birthday.

The Small Snowman

Snow on tomatoes

I was very proud of my cupcakes.

The land animals have green icing, and the sea animals have blue.

We had planned to have Amelia's party on Saturday, the day after her birthday, but because of the weather we changed it to Sunday. Sunday morning was chilly but by the time of the party, it was warmer and sunny. It was nice to be outside after the two days of cold. It was a small, last minute and simple party--no presents, no favors (other than the animals on the cupcakes)--just coffee, bagels, cupcakes and a few friends from the neighborhood. I had worried about Amelia asking about presents but she did not notice the lack of presents at all, and I think it made the party more fun. She was not worried about when she could open presents, and the kids had a great time playing with the basket of sand toys we brought.

The big three

Blowing out candles

The last time we all had our picture taken together was Amelia's second birthday party.

Our sweet 3-year-old.

First Face Painting

The Urban Farm

When I was growing up, summer meant gardens. I have lots of memories of playing in gardens, and of picking beans, canning beans, picking corn, putting up corn, picking tomatoes, canning tomatoes, etc. I liked most of the vegetables my parents and grandparents grew--beans, tomatoes, corn, cucumbers, okra, squash--but by the end of the summer, everyone would be sick of vegetables. You couldn't visit anyone without having them press a bag of produce into your hands as you said good-bye, and you didn't let anyone who came to your house leave without a bag from your own garden. 

I have lots of memories of driving down from the mountain from my grandparents house with my mom saying, "What are we going to do with all this corn!" (Or all these tomatoes, or all this okra..)

Now, in the city and many miles away, we are in the same situation here in Denver.

 

This is a very small portion of the produce we are dealing with around here these days. Mainly, we have too many tomatoes. We planted 19 plants, which you see in baby form at the bottom of this post. 

Here they are in early August. I was trying to take a picture of the sunflower; the tomatoes are the large mass of bushes in the center of the picture. They are as messy and matted as they look. 

This is from a little earlier in the summer, when you could still walk between the plants. Now, trying to pick tomatoes is like trekking into the jungle. We currently have 4 large bowl of tomatoes on our counter, and I use tomatoes as part of every single meal. I am also a tomato hawker. I have stopped short of asking strangers who pass our house if they want to pick some tomatoes, but I have seriously considered putting up a sign that says "Free tomatoes--pick your own."

They are delicious. We planted several kinds: some larger orange and red plums that are good for fresh tomato sauce, and lots of cherries, red, orange, and two types of what Amelia calls "little yellow tomatoes." Last summer she ate them by the pound. She likes them this year too.

 

Speaking of the sunflower, here is is. The baby sunflower is also in the linked post above.

 It's very tall now.

And below are some shots of the garden, produce, and Amelia from July.

Discussing the crops.

We tried potatoes for the first time this year, in the bowl at the back of the line of veggies. We got enough for 4 or 5 batches of hash browns.

Large zucchini

 

I don't know what you see here, but Dean and I snickered when he brought this in. Amelia, whose mind is more innocent, pointed out that this is two squash growing together.

The garden has been a lot of work. We are busy all evening on the urban homestead--I forgot to even mention the community garden, half a block down the street, where we have corn and squash growing, and where we grew basil (already harvested and made into pesto) and edemame (a kind of soybean you can boil and eat from the shell, which is fun for Amelia). And the backyard, where we had early radishes, sugar snap peas,  and arugula, and where we've planted another round of peas, radishes, and spinach for the fall. Whew. But it's really cool what we've (mostly Dean) managed to do with a small amount of space. And most of all, I am glad to have the summer garden part of my childhood back in my life.

First Day of Preschool

Amelia was very "exciting." This is how she says she is excited.

We have visited the school, a small Montessori-style school only 4 blocks from our house, many times over the past couple of months and weeks. Amelia was literally squealing with joy when I told her today was the day she got to stay there without me.

When I dropped her off, she accepted her hug and kiss, then looked at me expectantly. So I left.