learning to be

rowan - short vid

2008-07-24T11:32:00.000+08:00

http://www.youtube.com/v/81-nGlpOMnU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"> name="allowFullScreen" value="true">http://www.youtube.com/v/81-nGlpOMnU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"> From my sister, Jo! And if all that is gibberish code, just head on over here.

here's rowan

2008-07-24T11:25:00.000+08:00

Born July 23, 2008. I am now the delighted father of two!

birthdays

2007-08-11T09:41:00.000+08:00

Happy, happy birthday to LitCritters Andrew and Alex, born a day apart (with many years in between)! Here's to more stories and endless talk.

vignette: dazzling

2007-08-07T14:11:00.000+08:00

MAIA: Ok, then. My turn, right? I have to confess. There is this blog I visit once in a while that makes me smile. RAM: There you go. You're a secret stalker, laughing at other people's lives. MAIA: No, no. The author isn't trying to be funny, but the sheer mega-ego of the blogger is breathtaking - even putting my own ego to shame, I think, but my loving detractors would probably take

where are you, pinoy crime fiction?

2007-08-03T09:53:00.000+08:00

An ice cream-free Ichi Batacan (author of "Smaller and Smaller Circles", Palanca Grand Prize for the Novel) considers the question and offers her first answer (with the promise of more pondering to come). This would be of interest to Kenneth Yu of Philippine Genre Stories, since the scope of his publication includes crime, romance, and other genres, in addition to fantastic genres of fantas,

The Zombie Mommy

2006-08-04T10:09:00.000+08:00

an original story by Sage AlfarOnce upon a time, there was a mommy who got shot! She died and became a zombie, which made the daddy and the little girl very scared. "Aah!" they would shout, whenever the zombie mommy came near.But they were also very sad, because they missed their mommy very much. "I know!" said the daddy. "Let's be zombies, too, then Mommy won't want to eat us and we can all be

little girl get bigger, step four

2006-02-05T13:31:00.000+08:00

Sage's fourth birthday is rolling around on February 14th, and we are having the usual party for her on the 18th (because we are not delusional enough to expect people to actually show up on a Tuesday which also happens to be Valentine's day!) That'll be a day before my birthday as well, so it will sort of be a joint celebration. I say "sort of" because, you know, a Disney Princess costume party

school cool

2005-11-28T15:18:00.000+08:00

We are so inordinately proud of our little girl that it’s just short of unholy.Last month, she participated in her school’s Reading Recital, in which she was one of just three pre-kindergartners selected, and yet was probably the most confident and articulate reader of the lot (with the possible exception of the little boy who read “Little Calf Finds his Mommy” with rather apocalyptic solemnity).

that ol'-fashioned religion

2005-10-27T14:29:00.000+08:00

Sage comes rushing into our bedroom, waving a booklet tied together with yarn.SAGE: Dad! Dad! Look at this!ME: What is it?SAGE: It's a bible.ME: A bible?SAGE: Yes, God gave it to me.ME: He did?SAGE (nods quickly): Yes.ME: As in he handed it to you?SAGE: He did.ME: And what did God look like?SAGE: He has a bigote and beard like you.ME: And this was in Sunday School? It wasn't your teacher?SAGE: No

kids these days

2005-10-13T19:38:00.000+08:00

“Mom,” Sage said to me after pre-school was out for the day, “Everyone in my school is having sex.”“What?” I asked her, dropping what I was doing.“Sex,” she repeated. “All my classmates.”As I stared at her in shock and disbelief, she proceeded to clarify: “Maxine has sick. Hanson has sick. Edwin has sick. Everybody is having sicks.”She was a little annoyed when I couldn’t stop laughing.

Sage can write!

2005-09-07T13:39:00.000+08:00

I'm talking about the physical act of writing, obviously (because she has been storytelling for months now). We were just thrilled, delighted, and proud beyond comprehension when she just sat herself down last Saturday, September 3; and proceeded to jot down her own name and what she considers to be the names of her parents. (She does know our actual first names, but in her mind, these are only

her latest poetic utterance

2005-08-23T13:27:00.000+08:00

And remember, she's only three!"Mommy, did you see the evil miracle that happened to me?"

Sage's latest story

2005-07-27T20:15:00.000+08:00

Two robots replaced Cleo and T-Bone*. They painted themselves purple and yellow to fool Clifford, but it rained and the paint was washed away. Clifford saw that they were robots and ran away from them. Then the good fairy Sage magicked the bad robots; and they went away and the real Cleo and T-Bone came back. And everybody lived happily ever after, the end.*Cleo and T-Bone are Clifford's doggy

surface level

2005-07-25T15:12:00.000+08:00

Dean and Sage were watching The Little Mermaid on DVD, the part where the little mermaid's father yells at her for making contact with humans. "And I never want to hear about you going to the surface again!" yelled King Triton."Ariel's daddy is mad at her," Sage confided to her own father."Do you know why he's mad?" Dean asked."Of course, Dad!" Sage said confidently. "He doesn't want her to ever

tuned in

2005-07-20T16:19:00.000+08:00

With time off from her grueling academic schedule, Sage chills out.

brain child

2005-07-20T16:01:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, Sage brought home her brain. Astonishingly, it was the study topic of the day at her uber-advanced pre-school; and she had made a little model out of blue, yellow, and green Play-Doh.Of course, we chose the school in the first place because it's very cutting-edge in its philosophies and curriculum; it also guarantees a minimum of one teacher for every six students. Despite this, I had

sage alfar at 3 years and 5 months

2005-07-06T16:08:00.000+08:00

If you're all grown up now and reading this old archive, this is how you looked as a little girl - yes, we do this to embarrass you.But you must know how much your mother and I loved you then and love you now. Your flair for conversation and way with words, spelling out names of people and things; your spinning and dancing and singing and bouncing on the bed; your love for and devotion to your

the successful scholar

2005-06-29T14:10:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, after less than two weeks at school, Sage got her first official commendation! You can't see it too well in the picture, but it's a hand stamp that says "Good Job".Yes, she's really getting a good education. You can tell her by her choice of reading material. (She picked up the latest Newsweek and just started leafing through it on her own--not that she can actually read it, haha!)

monkey shines

2005-06-08T19:39:00.000+08:00

The other day, Sage was suffering some pain in her right leg (She's better now, don't worry), so we called for a manghihilot--or masseuse--from the base of our building to come up and take a look at her.Naturally, I wanted to prepare Sage for what was going to happen beforehand, so as the masseuse was coming up in the elevator, I explained to Sage, "Sweetie, a manghihilot is coming over to see if

our home

2005-06-06T11:10:00.000+08:00

Sage just loves the furniture store. In fact, our weekly trips to the mall for dinner would not be complete if she cannot visit Our Home and traipse across the aisles, trying out the couches and sofas and beds.Nikki and I love the place too, for its mostly affordable selections - but wish we had an Ikea right here.

two anecdotes

2005-06-01T13:44:00.000+08:00

1.We took Sage to see Madagascar, her first movie in an actual theater. Halfway through the film, she turned around in her seat, frowned at some children talking loudly behind us, and hissed, "Ssh!"Then she turned to me, shaking her head gravely, and bellowed self-righteously, "MOMMY, THOSE KIDS ARE SO NOISY!"2.Sage was playing at home with her four-year-old cousin Cassandra, the two of them

a laugh and a calf

2005-05-24T13:52:00.000+08:00

Last Sunday saw the debut of the very first joke Sage made up all on her own (intentionally).We were pretending to be cows, making mooing sounds. "Moo!" said Sage. "Moo! I'm the little cow, and you're the big cow.""Moo! So that means I'm the mommy cow and you're the baby cow--my calf?" I asked, trying to subtly teach her a new word."Okay," she said agreeably. "I'm the baby calf, moo." Then she

miss herd

2005-05-19T15:06:00.000+08:00

Dean was relaxing with his latest purchase from Powerbooks when Sage decided (as is her wont) to treat him as her own personal jungle gym. "What are you reading, Dad?" she asked, twining and tumbling around him."'Unsolved Murders'," he replied, doing his best to continue reading despite his daughter's persistent attempts to distract.At that point, I walked into the bedroom to inform my two loves

photos!

2005-05-12T16:15:00.000+08:00

hard at playwinding down with Daddyall played out!

little beach bunny

2005-04-25T20:51:00.000+08:00

Sage left town with us on her first beach outing this weekend, and made us even more proud of her than usual. She was completely fearless on the ocean, obediently clinging to the side of the raft in her nanny's grasp as instructed, but constantly trying to convince said nanny that she should be allowed to float off on her own to join her parents in the deep water."I want to go to Mommy," she

Sagey's Latest Story

2005-04-21T13:58:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, there was a Big Bad Cat who went to the house of the little boy and the little girl. Then he cooked them!Later, the mommy came home, and she said to the kids, "What happened to you?"The kids said sadly, "We're not alive..."--very loosely based on Hansel & Gretel and Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the HatWe may be raising the next Clive Barker or Grant Morrison.

dress sense

2005-04-18T15:09:00.000+08:00

I have this particular housedress that has somehow become Sage's special favorite: a skinny-strapped, short white number--patterned with purple leaves and brown teddy bears--that I actually would not be caught dead wearing in public. Possibly it's that very contrast with my usual all-black attire that makes Sagey love it so--whenever she watches me getting dressed for a day at home, she will try

her latest poetic phraseology

2005-04-15T14:32:00.000+08:00

"The moon has clumsy teeth."--Sage Alfar, telling her mother a bedtime story

princessly pronouncement

2005-04-14T00:01:00.000+08:00

During our day at the mall last Tuesday, Dean and I bought Sage this jewelry-making kit for being good at the doctor's. She wanted to play with it right away, but as it contained a lot of loose beads, Dean asked her to wait till we were seated at a restaurant for dinner, so that the smaller pieces wouldn't get lost.As we made a stop at Powerbooks to check out the selection, Sage oh-so-wistfully

sage and mommy

2005-03-22T14:50:00.000+08:00

aiming high

2005-03-16T17:14:00.000+08:00

Sage was busy with her crayons when her father asked her, "Sage, what do you want to be when you grow up?" She didn't quite understand, having never heard the question before, so he elucidated: "When you're grown up, what would you like to do? You can become a writer like Mommy, or you can own a store like Uncle Vinnie, or you can help sick people like your doctor does.""Or you can be many things

little light

2005-03-07T14:47:00.000+08:00

Dean says I've been singing this song day in, day out recently. It's because I actually listened to the lyrics, and I realized it could have been written about our finally having Sagey after many years of worrying about whether the time was right to have a child:Nobody told me you'd feel so good.Nobody said you would be so beautiful.Nobody warned me about your smile.You're the light, you're the

sage, age 3

2005-03-04T18:03:00.000+08:00

At the tail end of my photoshoots, I had Sage come over so we could take her pictures. Isn't she lovely? I am father to a beautiful daughter and husband to a beautiful wife!

Sage is toilet-trained!

2005-02-24T12:17:00.000+08:00

I know this may not seem like a big deal to those of you who don't have children, but believe me, it's beeeg. So big that I offered her anything she wants (barring an actualy pony) as a reward; she told me she wants a stuffed toy crocodile "to scare 'Captaim' Hook", as she calls him.Hopefully, she will look at said crocodile in the future, and forgive her mother for actually discussing her

princess party postscript

2005-02-15T14:39:00.000+08:00

Thanks to everyone who came and attended Sagey's third birthday!Unfortunately, the little girl was suffering from a bad cold, and was therefore not her usual sunny self, but she cheered up considerably after the party, when it was down to just the uncles and aunts she feels more comfortable with... and yes, when it came time to open presents!Despite the fact that she got three toy pianos (two of

THE PRINCESS IS TURNING THREE!

2005-02-10T13:53:00.000+08:00

Yup, it's true, Sage's third birthday is coming up this February 14th. So for all the wonderful people who have asked me what presents she wants, Dean and I took her window shopping and compiled the following wish list:1. a Beauty and the Beast Play-Doh set 2. a giraffe stuffed toy from the Toy Kingdom stuffed animals section (There are big and medium sitting giraffes, and small standing giraffes

recent Sage utterances

2005-02-03T13:02:00.000+08:00

"Actually, my favorite food is sinigang." (looking out the window at the nearby construction site) "That's amazing!" "My heart is a cookie." Still two weeks short of three years old, and she's using four-syllable words and poetic metaphor. Sometimes she's just so smart it's... well, amazing.

eat your greens

2005-02-01T13:36:00.000+08:00

"No, no, no," Sage said, picking through her serving of chop suey at dinner last night. "I don't like this, or this, or this..." "How can you not like that?" I asked, pointing at one of the summarily-rejected items. "That's baby corn; it's yummy." "That's not corn," Sage replied, peering at it suspiciously. "It's not exactly corn," her father tried to explain. "It's like corn, but it's small.

comic belief

2005-01-20T01:10:00.000+08:00

Sage was perusing her father's bookshelf of graphic novels (all of which she has been most thoroughly trained not to write or draw on or in), and promptly began a conversation with the drawing of a girl on one of the spines. "Why are you sad?" I heard her ask. She turned toward me to explain, "Mommy, this girl is crying." "Why is she crying?" I asked obligingly. "She needs her mommy and daddy

enough is enough

2005-01-13T14:21:00.000+08:00

Because her mother is always hugging her and cooing, "Love, love", Sage seems to think that the words 'love' and 'hug' mean the same thing. So last night, as she was busy playing in a house made of pillows at the foot of the bed, her father said, "Come here, Sagey, it's group hug time!" And she leapt in between her adoring parents, and we all snuggled and cuddled... ...for all of a minute or so

pride is a three-syllable word

2005-01-11T03:33:00.000+08:00

We are just so proud of Sagey. At the age of not-quite-three, she: 1. can use a real screwdriver with just a little help (aligning tool and screw). She even knows that "Clockwise means close; counter means open". 2. knows there's a difference between right and left, and can tell which is which slightly more than 50% of the time (which puts her about on par with Auntie Kate, haha!) 3. can

yet another anecdote from our U.S. trip last October

2004-12-31T14:12:00.000+08:00

Sagey and I were sitting on her grandma's back porch in Florida, when her uncle's dog Ace trotted out and promptly began taking a dump in the back yard. "Mommy," Sage wanted to know, "what is Ace doing? Why is he sitting in the grass?" "He's making poo-poo," I told her. "That's how dogs do it; sitting down, just like people." "Just like people," Sage repeated, apparently reflecting on the

Christmas present(s!)

2004-12-27T17:20:00.000+08:00

This was Sage's third Christmas, but probably the first one she got to really, really enjoy. (Though I'm fairly sure she got a kick out of pulling the tree down back when she was less than a year old, still learning to walk, and decided that the Christmas tree would make an ideal support pillar...) This year, she was old enough at last to understand the idea of Santa Claus, to make a wish list

pinky & the brain

2004-12-23T11:38:00.000+08:00

Sage and her father were playing little hand games--you know, like 'gimme five', 'high five', and so on--when Dean said, "Let's pinky-kiss!" "Pinky?" Sage, having never encountered the word before, looked confused. "Pinky," Dean told her. "Your smallest finger is also called your pinky." "This one," I chimed in, wiggling my smallest finger at Sage. "This one is your pinky." "No, Mommy," she

our growing grammarian

2004-12-20T11:42:00.000+08:00

Naturally, I had tears in my eyes yesterday when, on her way out the door to Sunday school with her nanny, Sage turned back and ran to her father, saying, "Dad, I haven't kissed you yet." It wasn't just the heartwarming sentiment of the moment that had me all melting into a gooey pile of slush. It was: Oh my God! Our daughter can conjugate! Hey, it was a perfect moment in the present, but to a

look, new look!

2004-12-11T15:46:00.000+08:00

Now that Sagey is really developing a personality of her very own, she deserves a look that really matches her tastes. Since she likes fairies (and likes to dress up as Tinkerbell... when she's not being Cinderella), this is it. (Um, because a Powerpuff Girls blog just seemed too... vibrant.) If you're a regular reader of Sage's exploits, and would like to be included on her blogroll, please

the power of language

2004-12-09T01:45:00.000+08:00

Another anecdote from our trip to the States: My mother proposed eating out at her favorite restaurant, so Dean, Sage, and I went off to our room to get dressed. As her father helped her into her outfit (I was still fussing with my face), Sage asked him, "Daddy, where we going?" "We're going to eat out," Dean replied. "Grandma is taking us to a Japanese restaurant to eat teppanyaki, mmm!" "No,

something for Sage and me to remember when she's 17 and we're driving each other crazy

2004-12-03T13:43:00.000+08:00

You know you're really a mother when your sleeping daughter kicks you in the face, and your primary concern is that she may have hurt her foot.

family matters

2004-11-30T15:54:00.000+08:00

My brother Rob has lived in the States for over ten years, which means that Sage had never met him until our trip to the States last October. We stayed at my mother's house; and when Rob drove down to visit us on our first weekend there, Grandma tried to prepare Sage for meeting her then-unknown uncle by explaining how he was related to people Sagey already knew. "Uncle Rob is your mommy's

artistic temperament

2004-11-27T01:34:00.000+08:00

This afternoon, Sage, our helper Lhen, and I were all in Dean's and my bedroom. Sage was playing, and Lhen and I were busy doing our respective work, just keeping an ear out in case Sagey needed anything. So it wasn't until too late that I turned around and saw that she had covered almost an entire wall of the bedroom with multicolored pencil scribbles. "Sage," I cried out, aghast, "look what

don't forget

2004-11-16T10:08:00.000+08:00

This morning, in my rush to get to the office, I whizzed past Sage who was eating her breakfast. "Sorry, sweetie," I said, giving her a kiss. "Daddy's running late but I will see you later, right? I love you." I strode quickly to the door, adjusting my laptop back on my right shoulder. "Dad," shouted Sage. "Wait!" "What?" I asked, halfway out of the door. "You forgot to say goodbye, Dad,"

Sage's First Flash Fiction

2004-11-13T15:59:00.000+08:00

created entirely by Sage Alfar "Once upon a time, there was a Daddy Fish, a Mommy Fish, and a Baby Fish. And the Mommy Fish loved the Baby Fish, and the Daddy Fish loved the Baby Fish. And the Baby Fish loved the Daddy Fish, and the Baby Fish loved the Mommy Fish. The End."

update

2004-11-09T14:41:00.000+08:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, preparations for the US trip, the trip itself, and the everyday demands of life have made time a bit scarce - but we will be updating soon. Sage is too wonderful to leave mute.

...and thanks for all the fish

2004-10-03T21:25:00.000+08:00

No, we're not actually leaving planet Earth (for those of you who got the Douglas Adams reference). But we are leaving terra firma, as the Alfar nuclear family (pere, mere, et fille) are flying off to visit Sagey's grandma in the States. While there, we will unfortunately be at the mercy of Mom's generously-offered but glacially slow Internet connection, so the various Alfar blogs will most

bubble recipe

2004-09-23T16:13:00.000+08:00

Like many other children, Sage adores blowing bubbles. She can go through several bottles of bubble solution in a single day, which is why I went through many experiments to figure out how to make bubble solution at home, from household ingredients. Sage's Bubble Recipe: Mix one cup of water with two tablespoons of liquid dishwashing solution and one tablespoon of clear Karo syrup. Stir it

baby bard

2004-09-19T23:02:00.000+08:00

Just this evening, while messing around with a bottle of baby powder, Sage composed her very first original song. The tune is a bit tricky to follow, but the lyrics go like this: Put on my knee, Powder on my knee, Jesus loves me, Strawberry, strawberry. It may not follow your traditional narrative logic, but clearly she has a fine grasp of basic rhyme and meter. Two years old, and she's already

her mother's daughter

2004-09-13T15:26:00.000+08:00

With my continuing distress (and misplaced guilt) over Sage's spudchild Sara, I told Nikki we should get her a real doll. Not that she doesn't have any, because she does, but somehow Dora and the innumerable stuffed animals have fallen out of favor. Besides, we wanted to get stuff to keep her busy on the plane and decided that a trip to the toy store would have multiple benefits. Since Sage

Sage's spud-child

2004-09-13T01:48:00.000+08:00

Sage has decided that her father's can of Piknik potato fries is her own little baby doll named Sara. 'Baby Sara' gets cradled in Sage's arms, sung to sleep, and dressed and undressed with rather troubling glee. (Poor Sara's wardrobe consists of sheets of typewriting paper which are wrapped around the can and sometimes fastened with tape... only to be whipped off again with the accompanying

big sis?

2004-09-08T22:41:00.000+08:00

This is Mia Maestro, who plays Jennifer Garner's sister on Alias. Sage and I were watching her on TV when I realized that she actually looks a little bit like a grown-up Sagey. Don't you think?

budding writer

2004-09-04T15:05:00.000+08:00

Sage is learning to write. We are so proud of her! She's only two and a half years old, and already she can write the letters X and O, and identify several more letters on sight, including S ("for Sage!"), M ("for Mommy!") and D ("for Daddy!"). I bought her one of those books where you can trace letters and wipe them off again. She's pretty good at tracing scraggly As, Gs, Is, Js, and the

reading readiness

2004-08-16T10:07:00.000+08:00

She takes after her parents, she does. Spying two new children's books lying on the floor (purchased at the Book Fair and wrought by her uncles Elbert and Hai... though I figure maybe she doesn't know that...), she swept them up into her arms and asked, "Mommy, can I read?" "Sure, sweetie," I replied, heading out the bedroom door. "Well, you can look at them, but Mommy has to eat dinner first,

helping daddy

2004-08-09T15:32:00.000+08:00

Sage, sweetie that she is, agreed to help her Daddy clean up his new office. So she strolled down two blocks with her nannies and critically eyed the dirty walls. "Dad?" she asked her father. Dean nodded and pointed to the cleaning stuff. Sage selected a sponge, dunked it into soapy water and proceeded to slosh the door down. "No, no, honey," her father said. "First you've got to squeeze

baby is in the eye of the beholder

2004-07-16T01:40:00.000+08:00

So Sage and I were having fun folding paper in the living room. First, she crumpled a sheet of bond paper in her little hand, letting the edges stick out between her fingers. "This is flower," she told me. "What a lovely flower!" I cooed admiringly. Next, she smoothed the paper out as best she could and rolled it into a long tube. "This is telescope," she proclaimed, gazing through one end of

bigote

2004-07-13T00:29:00.000+08:00

I belatedly started growing my facial hair a few weeks back (those who are clever among you should be able to discern which Alfar is writing this LOL), encouraged by my barber to give it a try. Now for her entire life, Sage has known her father as a man with a shaved head and no moustache or beard. So when my moustache and beard started to thicken, she would cringe when I kissed her, tickled by

you are my star

2004-07-06T12:40:00.000+08:00

Back when Sage was just learning to walk, I asked her to walk across the room to me and give me a kiss. She performed the walk impeccably, but gave me a small plastic glow-in-the-dark star (which she had scavenged from her dismantled kaleidoscope) instead of the requested kiss. I decided that it represented a kiss anyway, and tucked it away in my wallet as a keepsake. Some months later, as she

parental pride

2004-06-28T14:06:00.000+08:00

I was secretly worried that Sage was color-blind, because she can name and identify the colors blue, red, pink, black, white, and orange, but not purple, green, or yellow. So I hauled out my mommy-bible, What to Expect the Toddler Years, and found that the only thing wrong with Sage is that her mother is too damned demanding. Listen-- according to the book, children from 28 to 30 months old (

self-medication

2004-06-24T16:37:00.000+08:00

Like parents everywhere, Dean and I kiss Sage's injured spot whenever she has an 'owie'. She's a pretty brave kid, so in most cases, this placebo is enough to comfort her and get her past the worst of the pain. Last night, though, she stubbed her toe on our bedroom door, which everyone knows is an excruciatingly agonizing experience. The poor girl burst into tears, flopping down onto our bed and

speech effect

2004-06-22T00:20:00.000+08:00

Yesterday, I bought Sage a little press-and-play voice recorder. She was asleep by the time I got home, though, so the Big Kids (a.k.a. Sage's parents) fooled around with the toy for a while before setting aside to give to her in the morning. By the time I remembered to show it to her, Dean had already gone off to work, which explains the round-eyed look of awe that crossed our little girl's

drama princess

2004-06-17T21:32:00.000+08:00

I guess I was wrong when I said "no ham" in the last entry... Just tonight, Sage was playing 'gunman' again, gleefully firing off round after round from her index-finger-cum-imaginary-gun. When she 'shot' me with her customary yell of "bam bam!", I obligingly pretended to be hit and keeled over onto the bed. To my surprise, she quickly threw herself across my body and dissolved into a fit of

orange eggs, no ham

2004-06-14T17:22:00.000+08:00

For some reason, Sage decided at lunch today that it would be fun to dip her boiled egg in her orange juice. I tried to stop her, but she gave me one of her most forbidding looks, saying, "No, Mommy." Well, Dean and I believe in letting her experiment and experience things, so I let her be. She seemed to vastly enjoy herself until she was about halfway through eating her citrus-soaked treat. Then

2004-06-14T02:49:00.000+08:00

Mommy is trying out this photoblogging thing.image by Daddy

playing horsey

2004-06-09T02:37:00.000+08:00

Sage likes to make me get on my hands and knees, whereupon she climbs on my back and orders, "Gee-yap, Horsey!" I, of course, am expected to bounce up and down, humming that song from The Lone Ranger... you know how the game goes, right? Just this week, though, she's added a new dimension to it. When I get tired out and tell her, "Sage, Horsey's tired," she obligingly slips off my back. Then she

my sleeping child

2004-06-05T13:43:00.000+08:00

When Sage was a tiny baby, Dean and I would sometimes have her sleep with us in our little double bed. I would curl my body around her, one arm thrown across her sleeping form to keep her from being crushed by her father, a notorious night tosser and turner. But all those nights, Dean would just go to sleep on his side and not move. Not an inch, nary a centimeter the whole night long; it was

the name game

2004-06-01T14:08:00.000+08:00

Sage has known for some time that her full name is Sage Alfar. She knows that her parents are (in her words) "Daddy Dean Alfar" and "Mommy Nikki Alfar". So it's really quite logical that she has now officially christened her favorite toy puppy "Dog Alfar". Which probably means that the toy octopus is named "Oppopus Alfar"...

ice cream

2004-05-26T11:10:00.000+08:00

One time at a resto, Sage pulled me down and whispered, "Daddy, ice cream please?" I was puzzled because the Japanese resto had no ice cream on display whatsoever, until I realized that she had seen an ice cream store on our way in. "We'll you some later, Sage," I told her. "No, daddy, no," she protested. "Give me a coin." "Daddy doesn't have any coins, but here's fifty bucks. Go with Ate

ms. fix-it, part 2

2004-05-23T23:03:00.000+08:00

Sage is a big Winnie-the-Pooh fan, so for her 2nd birthday party a few months back, we chose Pooh party hats. She enjoyed these so much that I saved as many as I could get my hands on post-party, for her to play with when it suits her fancy. We now have precious few left, which explains the look of dismay Sage wore the other day when she tore one of the hats by accident. Wide-eyed and drop-jawed,

taste testing

2004-05-20T13:58:00.000+08:00

Last night, Sage got to try a strawberry float for the first time, watching her daddy mix strawberry ice cream and Sprite to make her the bubbly pink confection. She loved the sweet treat, of course, repeatedly pushing her cup in her father's direction and politely but pointedly demanding, "More, please!" She had her first Coke float a couple of months ago, which she also loved, but not without

ms. fix-it

2004-05-18T19:54:00.000+08:00

A couple of months ago, I showed Sage how I used a screwdriver to change the batteries in her light-up Mickey Mouse toy. She seemed fascinated by the process, and insisted on 'helping' me close and reopen Mickey several times over. Of course, I couldn't let her play with the screwdriver on her own, so I looked for a toy toolkit in the nearby toy stores. Guess what? Not a decent one to be found,

colorific

2004-05-16T22:19:00.000+08:00

We spent most of today teaching Sage to use her new watercolor paint set. She had a blast, smearing colors all over paper and used illustration boards with a variety of tools-- brush, sponge, and, naturally, her hands. There were some initial problems when she tried to put her foot in the bowl of brush-cleaning water, then tried to wash her face with the murky water; but all in all, she picked up

passing the zbrt

2004-05-11T15:43:00.000+08:00

'Zbrt'-- I'm sure you were wondering-- is the word for that thing you do when you press your mouth against someone's flesh and make a loud, wet raspberry right on their skin. Dean loves zbrting Sage's stomach. It's turned into a little ritual between them, which commences with Dean asking her, "Sage, do you know what time it is?" Previously, Sage would look at him in complete innocence and say,

shoe fetish

2004-05-09T23:21:00.000+08:00

For Mother's Day, Dean got me this beautiful, tiny, silver-and-enamel baby shoe pendant, red with a white flower pattern. He and Sage presented it to me together; but when Sage got a good look at it, she immediately coveted it and gave me her most appealing puppy-eyed look, pleading hopefully, "For Sage?" "For Mommy," I replied, gently but firmly. "For Sage," she repeated, looking deliberately

erratum

2004-05-04T23:11:00.000+08:00

Dean pointed out that Sage must know a good deal more than just 50-plus words. So I did a very disorganized rundown in my head and realized that yes, he's absolutely right. Her vocabulary is actually somewhere in the vicinity of 200 words, which means that (a) I have done my wondrous child a terrible disservice, and (b) Mommy is even worse at tasks mathematical then previously suspected... which

Sagey's new look

2004-05-03T03:14:00.000+08:00

Okay, having received complaints that the old template wasn't working in various settings, I finally junked it (after trying and failing to tweak it accordingly). Theoretically, it should work at whatever setting. I hope. We don't want Auntie Lisa and Auntie Amie to be unhappy!

Sagey's got a gun

2004-05-02T00:39:00.000+08:00

Sage has a new game where she pretends to have a gun, holding out her thumb and forefinger in the classic make-believe gesture. She points it at some hapless innocent like her father, and gleefully shouts, "Bam-bam!" Then, when the supposed shooting victim pretends to fall over, Sage abruptly shifts gears and coos, "Poor Daddy! Let's help him!" At this point, Mommy and any other available

new tricks

2004-05-01T02:31:00.000+08:00

Last night, Sage's nanny was trying to get Sage to show me how she had learned to 'walk like a model'. Sage, however, was far too busy to engage in such tomfoolery, as she was engrossed in alternately scattering then collecting the tiny faux bubbles from her miniature dollhouse bathtub. So she ignored her well-meaning nanny, who nevertheless persisted in pestering her: "Model, baby, model for

Sage's milestones

2004-04-27T22:42:00.000+08:00

(first in a continuing series) Sage had her first home bath when she was about two weeks old. Dean and I had heard all these horror stories about children who slipped in their baby tubs and thus developed a traumatic lifelong water phobia, so we were utterly terrified. (Which is pretty funny for two people who are of the arrogant conviction that they can learn to do anything well, as long as it

my hero

2004-04-26T22:55:00.000+08:00

Dollhouse notwithstanding, Dean and I are trying to raise Sage in a sort of gender-neutral fashion. We tell her that she's strong and tough as well as smart and pretty; and we encourage her to be fairly rough-and-tumble when it's appropriate, and to just pick herself up when she falls or gets hurt. I didn't realize how well this was working until one evening when we were watching the Justice

2004-04-26T00:42:00.000+08:00

The House on the Hill Uncle Vin helped Daddy and Mommy buy Sage this gorgeous dollhouse! It was literally the last one available in the country (The distributor confirmed this rumor for us.), so we had to hustle to get our hands on it, since it's considered the best house in the Sylvanian Families range. We had to strip Sage's other dollhouse, the Old Mill, in order to furnish it, and in spite of

2004-04-24T17:04:00.000+08:00

As of today, Sage: 1. loves Dora the Explorer, Nemo, Blue from Blue's Clues, and most of all, Winnie-the-Pooh. 2. has apparently decided to live on a diet of French fries, Coke, boiled eggs, milkshakes, and yogurt. Takes after equally unhealthy parents. 3. adores swimming, bathing, watching fountains, and generally anything to do with running water. Obviously not a witch. 4. dotes on her

2004-04-24T16:48:00.000+08:00

Welcome! Okay, the main reason Sage now has a blog of her own is that her mother (That would be me.) has finally admitted that she is a terrible scrapbook-keeper. Just terrible. Sage is more than two years old now, and I've yet to complete a single baby book to commemorate her baby adventures. And she's such an amazing kid, she deserves a proper chronicle of her growing-up. So this is it, Sage's