Another Fine Homemade Parachute Page, Crafted With Love
Sasha Lucy, often referred to as “the 3YO” on Twitter and in polite conversation, will henceforth be referred to as “the 4YO”.
For someone with so much energy, you may in fact be the laziest little girl ever, an idea that gives you no end of mirth. So three days a week, after daycare, I put you on my shoulders and walk the half hour home. Sometimes you complain when my neck gets sweaty. In truth, I kind of like it (oops, that’s a secret), though you’re not a baby any more, for sure.
You had kind of a tough start in this world, though nothing serious: a little jaundiced, a little colicky, trouble feeding, lots of crying. “Little Miss Snicket” was one of your first nicknames; “Lemony Lu” soon followed. Currently it’s “Pickles”, so that’s progress for you. I onced scalded myself with boiling water while making couscous, then squeezed lime juice onto my hand, and served dinner wincing in pain. This is a perfect metaphor for you, I thought: a little lemon juice in a paper cut. Also lemon pie. We had a lemon-themed party for you one year: lemon stilton cheese, lemon cake, lemon tea, lemon everything. I don’t think you got the joke, but you like lemon anyways.
You were a terrible sleeper in the begining, but that wasn’t your fault entirely. Many nights I’d lock us both in the bathroom and turn the lights out, and rock you as long as I could to get you to sleep, then quietly open the door just to see your big googly eyes staring right back at me. That was even harder in the summertime, where I probably kept you awake by dripping sweat on you. That’s our relationship right there: me sweating on you. Kind of gross, this daddy business.
Sometimes Mom would come home from yoga to find all the lights turned out, and me huddled in a corner whispering “Don’t. Make. A. Sound.” Then we’d eat supper in the dark and cry ourselves to sleep.
I never would have guessed that you’d turn out so goofy, though, given that start. I started taking a lot more video of you both not just for the movement, which is nice, but for the sound, the laughter, which I want to remember forever. I’ve phoned the grandparents sometimes when you’re just having a giggle, so they can hear, even if they have no idea what’s going on. And almost nothing makes you laugh as much as watching a video of yourself doing something in retrospect weird and funny.
Four years. That’s a Honours Degree in Sasha Lucy, but I’m still an amateur, nowhere near ready for graduation. I can’t even imagine a thesis topic. I hope we get a passing grade, somehow, sometime, the two of us.
I may be a “creaky old man”, as I’ve trained your sister, and now you, to say, but I love to carry you, and I hope you like the view. So saddle up on the old man, let’s have a bounce.