First Week of Pre School

Lillian has one week of Early Childhood Learning under her belt, and appears to be adjusting well. She has good teachers, and gets along well with the other kids. She doesn’t always do what she’s told (big surprise) and doesn’t much like waking up from her nap (neither do I).

When we get home she has a couple of crackers and some cold milk — that’s serious business, as you can see. Then we read a book or two (she’s a big fan of Richard Scarry and Busytown) and play in the backyard or build towers of blocks in order to knock them over and make some noise.

She’s going to spend time this weekend with her Uncle Richard and Lauren, so her dad can get some sleep and have a bit of grown up fun. When you are over 30, an uninterrupted diet of Wonder Pets and Richard Scarry (great as he is) can get a little old.

First Day of Preschool

Lillian begins her first day of the Early Childhood Learning Program at St. Thomas’ Episcopal today. She will go from 9 to 2.

I suspect she’ll find the company of other 3 year olds to be more stimulating than that of the over 60 crowd she’s been hanging out with. At least, they have some chance of keeping up with her.

Silly Business

Lillian’s lately taken to pointing out the many examples of silliness she sees around her every day. A squirrel runs up a tree: “That’s silly,” says Lillian. Her grandfather draws a picture: “That’s silly, ePa,” says Lillian. She puts her toy reindeer on the back of her toy zebra: “That’s silly,” says Lillian, and laughs.

Today was sticker silliness day. She climbed into my lap and held her palm up: “That’s a sticker on Lillian’s hand,” she said. Then she put the sticker on the end of my nose: “That’s silly, ePa,” she said, and laughed. When the sticker would no longer stick to the end of my nose, she moved it to my forehead: “That’s a silly sticker, ePa,” she said, then ran off to build and (more importantly) to knock over a tower of blocks. Every few minutes she would return, look at the sticker still stuck to my forehead, laugh and say: “That’s silly, ePa.”

The Artist at Work

True creatives, like Lillian, do not concern themselves with coloring inside the lines. For them, it is the bold stroke, the slashing line, the unexpected clash of colors that tell the tale.

For the rest of us, it is the magical little markers that only mark on special paper. There are no great works of art on cabinet fronts, but grand mothers and great grand mothers are happier people with lower blood pressure.

Car Nut

Went to lunch with Lillian today; she discovered the Fast and Furious arcade game, and was entranced. Even better, from a miserly grandpa point of view, she found the game fascinating even with no quarters fed into it. I’m sure at some point some malicious person will point out how the machine actually works, but until then it’s pretty cheap fun.

Lillian is something of a car and truck nut — she loves Hot Wheels and fire trucks and, after an ambulance passes by, she will wave and say ” Bye, ambulance” — so it’s not terribly surprising that a racing video game would catch her eye. I’m guessing she’s going to be a bit disappointed when she turns 16: her dad doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who is going to let her get a cherry red Mustang convertible.

Remembering Lillian’s Mom on her Birthday

Ashley and Lillian August 19, 2010: the day she held Lillian for the first time

Today, Saturday, August 17th, would have been Ashley’s 34th birthday. Although we haven’t written much about her since her death in December, we think of her every day. We see glimpses of her in her daughter Lillian, whose robust health and joyous outlook owe so much to Ashley’s fierce devotion and sacrifice. We remember her kindness, her strength and her quiet but very real faith and hope. At some point this weekend, we’ll go eat Indian food in her memory and, I hope, weep a little and laugh a lot. Love you, Ashley Elizabeth.

Saturday Birthday Party

Peggy and Keith Denby (Lillian’s NaNa and PawPaw) and Lillian’s aunt Cari drove down from the wilds of east Texas on Saturday to celebrate Lillian’s 3rd birthday. We gathered at aunt Michelle and uncle David’s house (so Lillian could swim in the pool).

Lillian’s cousin Nathan spent most of the party up in Copperfield along with Michelle and David winning his first tennis tournament, but we still had a great time, and cousins Emma (just back from six weeks in Russia), Daniel and Miranda were excellent hosts.

Peggy took these pictures:

The Cookie Cake

Lillian and her Dad

The Lilz likes cars

Emma, Lillian, and Miranda

Let’s Go, ePa!

Lillian and her great-grandmother and I went over to the Russ Pitman Nature Center in Bellaire this morning. Her great-grandmother sat in the shade (when you’ve gotten to the age where your body can no longer tolerate cold, Houston in the summer has a certain appeal), and Lillian and I went strolling.

Lillian isn’t actually much of a stroller: she’s more a combination of runner — dancer — jumper — prancer, but she stops often enough to watch spiders and squirrels and flowers that her old and slow ePa can still keep up. There’s a rabbit in a pen there; Lillian tries to engage him in conversation, but he just wrinkles his nose and ignores her.

Even at the advanced age of three, Lillian is sure to make an experimental splash in every puddle in the park, and always sticks her hand in the goldfish pond to wave at the fish. And, after a few minutes at each stop, she tugs on her grandfather’s finger. “Let’s go, ePa,” she says, and we’re off until something else strikes her fancy.

Now We Are Three

Our own small miracle, Lillian Grace Denby, is three years old today.

Lillian and Her Dad

It’s the eve of Lillian’s third birthday, and she’s got her dad drawing Wonder Pets for her.

As you can probably tell from the picture, Lillian thinks that her dad, Josh, is incredibly talented, kind, funny, knowledgable, and wise; and that she could not have a better father.

And I think I agree with her.