Sunrise, Sunset

After my recent burst of prolificacy, I return to the well to find it dry. The summer heat, perhaps?

Jarrah has been quite lovely this week; I guess those monster teeth have made their debut.

We did have a lot of fun last night accompanying Paul, Mary, Joy and some of their family to Legoland for the first time. Jarrah was a big fan of the toddler water area, where she enjoyed being smacked in the face by stealth underground fountains. Water was the theme of the evening, as we also had time for two boat rides, little and big. The little one wended its way through a brook upon whose banks cavorted fairy tale characters comprised of Legos, and Jarrah was sure to point to each one and announce "Whoa." so we didn't miss anything. The big boat toured the Lego lagoon, and would have had some spectacular views of such Lego creations as the Sydney Opera House and the Eiffel Tower...if there had been any light to see them by. But I guess there's something about the motion of a boat that pleases Jarrah, because she perched on David's lap with rapt attention the whole time.

Earlier this week, we returned to the Birch Aquarium for the first time since our first trip in March. She enjoyed it just as much, but I felt a bit wistful watching her tear through the exhibits at a sprint and haul herself onto high viewing platforms without my help. Our little girl is growing up so fast! The last time we were there, she could barely walk, and tended to fall over every few steps. Now I just followed behind at a safe distance. She even understood the docent's instructions to "please touch the sea cucumber with only one finger," though I thought it a more vigorous finger than the soft little cucumber probably desired.

Last Friday, the three of us took a tour of a Jewish preschool in our neighborhood which we've heard good things about. Jarrah went right into the classroom and pulled up a chair, and would still be there now, coloring with the other children, if we hadn't gently (and then with increasing firmness) announced our intention to go home. The director spent a lot of time with us and answered all my questions in a comforting way. I was especially pleased to hear about (and then see for myself) the school's cultural diversity, since Jarrah will have plenty of opportunity to feel different in her life without also standing out like a sore (but cute) thumb in preschool. She is not actually eligible for admission until she turns two, but she and I will be attending a "Mommy and Me" version of the program once a week this fall, and I hope that will also ease her transition to two half-days by herself starting in January.

This morning I watched Jarrah pretending to mop the floor and was astonished at how slim and willowy she has become in six months. She isn't skinny by any means, but her thighs, once dimpled and puckered and rolled, are simply full, and her belly no longer juts into the next room. She's grown nearly three shoe sizes in six months, and all her pants are now clamdiggers. Her hair almost covers her eyes in front, but I have yet to clip it back because it's so insouciantly stylish the way it is. A friend said, "She's not a baby anymore--she's a little girl." Oh, let's not be o'er-hasty: she's a baby, alright. She's my baby.