Olivia's Pick--14 June 2009

"Mama, Mama! I see a bunny! I see a bunny!" Olivia was standing at the back door off the kitchen, gazing into our yard.

I looked out the window over our sink and, sure enough, there was the sweetest, smallest baby rabbit nibbling at our lawn.

"Mama, can we go out and see him?"

"Sure, angel."

So we opened the door as noiselessly as we could. And we tiptoed out, as noiselessly as a 3-year-old in close proximity to a baby bunny can tiptoe.

Before too long, the bunny caught on that he was being stalked and bounced away to safety under our hedge.

"Bunny, come back," Olivia was on the move after him when, all of a sudden, she fell down. Except, from where I was standing, it didn't look like she had actually fallen. She was on the ground, one leg out to the side, but...where was her other leg?

It was, as it turns out, stuck up to the knee in a groundhog hole in the back of our yard. She started crying while I tried very hard not to laugh. I rushed over and pulled her out. But when her foot came out of the hole, I saw only her little pink sock; the hole had kept her sneaker. Once discovered, this prompted a round fresh tears at increased volume.

"MwaaaalssshhhhMySHOOOOOO!"

I brought her inside, dried her tears and offered up a second pair of shoes. (I had peeked down that hole and it was pretty deep. I wasn't about to stick my hand down there after a well-used sneaker from Target.)

Despite the lost shoe, she was calm and smiling within minutes. She's also had considerable fun recounting her harrowing adventure to friends and family.

She hasn't even soured on the bunny in our back yard, or rabbits in general. As I type this, in fact, she has recruited her Papa to go out and look for our backyard bunny. But this time, she's doing it barefoot.

Olivia's Pick--8 June 2009

Central Park has always been one of my favorite things about New York City. It's an oasis, a sea of life surrounded on all sides by the steel and concrete on which New Yorkers build their dreams. The park makes the noise and the pace of the city a bit more bearable; inside its lush greenery, you can come up for air.

Yesterday, Olivia and I spent the day (the perfect, glorious, sunshine-y day) exploring the park. After poking around the flea market on the Upper West Side and stowing our treasures in canvas bags hanging off the stroller handles, we made our way east into Central Park.We entered at Strawberry Fields and watched the tourists snapping photos. We saw penguins, puffins and polar bears. We snooped on one of Manhattan's most famous residents with a high powered telescope. (It's someone we've enjoyed reading about recently.) We admired sailboats as they glided silently past. We joined a mad tea party, already in progress.I

t was one of those days when the universe conspires to spread smiles on the faces and joy in the hearts of Mamas and little ones everywhere. It was as perfect a day as any in my memory. And I got to share it with her.

Lucky, lucky me.

Olivia's Pick--31 May 2009

Writing! W-R-I-T-I-N-G! Olivia has burst through the initial barrier of literacy! This weekend (with a fair amount of assistance from me, I'll admit it) she wrote her name! In hot pink sidewalk chalk on our slate patio, the letters O-L-I-V-I-A are clearly and gloriously legible.

I felt like throwing a party.

She made calls, told the grandparents and reveled in the general hooplah Mama and Papa were making. But despite all that, her memory of The First Time She Wrote Her Name will doubtless fade into the mists of childhood experience.

But not for me. I'll never forget it: The bright pink color of the chalk and how she had it smeared on her forehead. The navy batik shirt she was wearing, and how it tied in the back. The way she went running, yelling "Papa! Papa! I wrote my name!" The hug I gave her and the way her skin smelled like sunshine, sunscreen and the ocean.

These things, I will not forget. Not for the rest of my life.

This is how it was, the day that she wrote her name for the first time.