Nora Evelyn

On Saturday, at dinner, Nora’s Uncle Eric got her a green helium balloon*. As is always the case with helium balloons, Nora treasured it mightily. She also treasured the one given to her cousin, Kacie, but failed to claim that one. She proudly carried hers to the car, played with it (and sang into it) most of the way home and was proudly carrying it to the house when she let go of the ribbon and learned a very, very hard lesson about life. Sometimes loss is permanent. Daddy can’t fly 250 feet in the air over Argo Pond to retrieve your balloon no matter how vehemently you point, how mournfully you call out “balloon! balloon!” or how cutely you make your “I don’t get it!” hand gesture. For a while you could see the balloon drifting away into the sky from our dining room window so she stood perfectly still and watched it fly away until she couldn’t see it anymore.

Now every walk from the car means Nora must take a moment to point off into the western sky, squint up into our faces and say, simply, “balloon.” It’s not a question. It’s not a cry. It’s just a sad declaration of her loss and a remembrance of things past.

Probably she’ll let go of the next one too.

* the balloon was green, not the helium.

It’s like riverdance without the ridiculous clip-on hair and bare chested male lead (or his fake Irish accent). Here Nora is learning a thing or two about Irish dancing from her Granny McGowan (TCRG, ADCRG).

Get the latest Flash Player to see this player.

Often, as in this movie, we’re still giggling as Nora toddles off to whatever the next thing is. In this case, though, the toddling causes the giggling.

Get the latest Flash Player to see this player.

A mysterious baby slide has recently appeared at the park near our house. Now Nora’s obviously too big for a baby slide being as she’s clearly no longer a baby. However, I think she feels a certain thrill being slightly oversized for something for once. Here’s a candid shot of her lording it over the rest of the playground.

Nora helped pick out her own clothes. Can you tell?

Here’s a stair-descent triptych.

Obviously I lied before when I said the water table was the last of the Hands-On Museum posts. I’m pretty sure that this is the last one, though. Unless we post the firefighter pictures. :)

Here’s an uncharacteristic photo of Nora looking… pensive? sad? concerned? We’re not sure what she was looking at but whatever it was certainly wiped the smile off her face for a moment (but only for a moment, be sure to click).

Nora loved the water table at the Ann Arbor Hands On Museum. Here are a couple of pictures of her playing with it (the last of the hands-on series, I think).

Here’s some footage of Nora watching the bubble video we posted yesterday. It’s all very meta and postmodern and self referential and I need a shave. I think my favorite moment is when she turns, sees Jennie holding the camera, and thinks it’s a phone. [ edit: it was the phone. it was sitting on the desk. my new favorite part is the end. ]

Nora, it should be noted, thinks that all Jen and I do all day is sit around with our laptops staring at pictures and videos of her. This is what you might call “firmly rooted in fact”.

Get the latest Flash Player to see this player.

Nora’s seen one of these full-body bubble things before (at the Boston Children’s Museum) so she knew just what it was and made a beeline for it today at the Ann Arbor Hands-On Museum. Here’s a short video of what followed. You can see her blowing into the giant bubbles, trying to hug them, demanding more with cries of “bubble! bubble!” and… well… I’ll explain the ending after you watch.

Get the latest Flash Player to see this player.

Yes, that’s right. For reasons that absolutely deny comprehension, our daughter bends over, scoops her little hand through the trough of bubbles, and shoves the frothy white goodness into her mouth. I’m sorry I failed to capture the look on her face and the series of sounds she made as we rushed her to the drinking fountain and bathroom.