Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Enunciation and pronunciation, you are cordially invited

After a recent post about E's interest in my little camera and our plans to get her her own for Chanukah, my mother went ahead and ordered one. We knew it was coming. We talked about what to do with it: just give it to E? Wait until my parents were here and able to present it? Hold it out as a bribe prize for potty-training? Wait until Chanukah anyway, because let's face it, this kid is spoiled rotten by her grandparents and it's not a horrible thing to wait for something big? Lo, the possibilities.

We got home yesterday at the same time as M. We were all standing on the front lawn and M hoisted L out of her car seat and held her aloft against the backdrop of a dramatic blue sky. I asked him to wait, or do it again, or something, because I wanted to reach into the front seat and grab my little camera out of my purse. I got a sweet picture of L in front of the clouds, but just one, because then the other child confiscated my camera for her own purposes. M and I looked at each other and sort of laughed. We had just discussed her en-route camera again, and we were leaning toward the notion of potty training incentive. Meanwhile, E was taking pictures of the car door handle, the grass, the grommet on the back pocket of my jeans, all sorts of stuff that probably only catches your attention when you're not yet three feet tall. We had to drag her into the house, and the only way I succeeded was by calling her attention to a package on the porch. "Who's going to open this box, E, you or me?" was what I had called from the doorway on the attempt that finally got her indoors. So focused was I on please could you get in this house so we could begin with the evening, your sister is ready for bed and deny all you want, you're starving, and man are you just dilly-dallying out here and halting the entire progress of night and once we get home all I want to do is move forward the progress of night and kid, you're making me crazy here that I didn't even think ahead to what might be in the bait box. And of course, it was her camera. "Oh," I said, as she and I simultaneously saw it. Oooooooohhhh!!! she said, which is not quite the same as "oh." So all of a sudden, she has her own camera.

September 15, 2008
Portrait of portrait-taking
The future Annie Liebowitz?


Today we NEEDED the camera to go in the car with us to school. We NEEDED it. This is the state of my motherhood: I shifted my make-up bag out of its permanent home in the center console compartment so that I could make room for a pink and purple Fisher Price camera. Because I figure it's cool enough now that my make-up can risk the melty, but god help me if someone smashes my window because of a visible kiddie camera.

It was worth having with us, though, because it kept E entertained for the entire car ride to school, and later for the entire car ride home. (And as far as I noticed, her flash didn't cause any traffic accidents behind us, although I wonder if any cars in front of us worried they were getting speeding tickets from the laser cameras.) She had been taking pictures for at least 20 straight minutes on the way home this evening, and narrating all the while, when I realized that I had sort of stopped listening, and that I had then very suddenly begun listening: because I was POSITIVE that she had just said, Mama! I took a picture of my crotch!

September 16, 2008
'Crocs' by E, age 2


Not crotch, Crocs. And the above photograph will be the first page of her art-school admissions portfolio 16 years hence, with this story appended.
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2 comments:

Swistle said...

That's a great photo! Look at the way she worked the light!

Anonymous said...

So maybe a BIG memory card for Chanukah?
Love, Grams