Week 143 Pictures

A few weeks ago, we bought a milkweed plant and placed it in a mesh "butterfly nursery" and set it up in a window indoors.


Later that day, we took five Monarch caterpillars off the milkweed plants in the garden and put them in the nursery. A few days later, they had all gone into cuccoons.

Here we are two weeks later, and four of the five hatched together on one day. The other hatched the day before. Today we took the butterfly nursery outdoors, opened the flap, and let the butterflies loose. The all flew away, save one. One of the butterflies was sick. That's what we told Reilly, at least. I'm not sure exactly what was wrong with the butterfly, but its wings were pale, and the little guy couldn't fly. Such is nature.

Here is a photo of the last heatlhy butterfly about to take off:

For more photos, click here.

Everybody nod now

Yesterday, I took Reilly down to the nearby intercoastal to go fishing. Earlier in the week I had taught her how to fish by sitting her on our bed, casting a bobber across the room, and letting her reel it in. Not that it is terribly complex, but she got it right away, the smarty.

She loves her little red fishing rod, given to her by her grandfather on her second Christmas. It is just a foot and a half long, and has about 2 lb. test line on it. I remember thinking it was rather ambitious that he had given her the rod at such a young age. Even at present I was concerned that the whole fishing process might be a bit much for her. Boy was I wrong.

We drove out to the local intercoastal and set up along the seawall in a spot shaded by the mangroves. After putting out our chairs and baiting her hook with a small piece of frozen shrimp, I cast out the line and handed the rod over to Reilly. The pin fish immediately attacked her bait, but being that they were so small and fast, she was unable to hook one, and despite the fact that I had the smallest hook on her line possible, she wasn't able to reel in a fish before her bait ran out about twenty minutes later. It didn't matter. She had really enjoyed herself.

As a boy, I had many father & son fishing trips, and I recall that when my dad had both my brother and I in the boat, he didn't get much fishing done. Now, I can see why. Though I brought my pole and my own bait, I didn't make a single cast until Reilly was done fishing. It took all my energy to bait her hook, untangle her line, keep her comfortable with food and water, and overall manage her fishing experience. It was exasperating while also being wonderfully meaningful to me. I called my dad earlier today to tell him about my experience and he laughed.

"I remember some of those trips I was so busy with you and your brother I never caught a fish!"

Its funny how it can be hard to appreciate the things your parents did for you as a child until you have a child of your own. (Everybody nod now.)

After Reilly ran out of bait and interest, she threw cracked oyster shells in the water and I fished a bit. I was able to catch two small pin fish, which I let Reilly reel in. I loved seeing the wonder and excitement on her face when I held the fish so that she could touch it. When I asked her what it felt like, she smartly answered, "wet." (Duh!)

After we packed up the car, Reilly asked if we could come back again. It choked me up a bit to think that we might fish together again, and maybe for many more years. And I was proud that she got the whole point of fishing, evidenced by the conversation that followed:

Me: "Let's go home and tell mommy that we caught two fish!"
Reilly: "No! THREE fish!"

That's really what it's all about. Fish tales, exaggeration, and stories about the big one that got away.

Week 142 Pictures

Here is your picture of the week:



For more, click here.

Photo Assignment #7

Here are my entries for Photo Assignment #7: "Creative Backlighting" over at Minna's blog, both from the archives:

You know you have a 2-year-old when...

The other day I looked in the playroom to find that it was a total disaster area: blocks on the floor, tea party abandoned, and a table of child-size "dirty" dishes.

I asked Reilly to come into the playroom and help me clean up the mess. She started off in the right direction, but then picked up where she left off with the tea party, and then asked if she could cook me some dinner, and wouldn't I like to build a ramp for her matchbox cars?

30 minutes later, the room was worse off than when we started.

How it can hurt to be a parent

As I mentioned before, Shawn and I email back and forth throughout the day to keep in touch. After getting in very late with Reilly last night (2:30am), Shawn sent me this email today:

"Baby still sleeping. She keeps asking where you are. I told her you had to work today, and then in that same sentence I said that I would be working today and that she would need to find something fun to play with. She got so weepy and said something to the effect of: "Daddy's at work, and you'll go to work, and then I'll be here by myself." It was so heartbreakingly sad. I had to convince her that we would never leave her by herself. Poor little girl. So grown up yet such a little thing at the same time."

Week 141

Here is the extended version of your weekly pictures, with quite a few from our visit to The City.

Your picture of the week: