Baby Ballerina

Cora at almost three is like a little mosquito constantly buzzing around my person. A tall, darling and lovable mosquito, but a little bug just the same!

She prefers hanging with the grown-ups over playing with the kids and as much as I encourage her to go find a doll or a dress or just about anything in her room she's overjoyed to jump on my lap as if I were her own personal gym and jabber incessantly. Her voice is low like her mama but also squeaky like a mouse and she's always saying things that make me swoon. Like a few days ago when someone asked what her name was and she said, "I call me Coco." It sounded so cute coming from her little mouth, especially because it was perfectly parroted from me introducing her to people. ("Her name is Cora but we call her Coco.") Or at the park when I had to grab something out of the car and she took Melissa's hand and said, "Will you be my mommy till that mommy comes back?" She loves to ask questions--so many questions--and is known to repeat herself until your answer meets her standard. "Mama, why you doing that? Why you doing that Mama? Why you doing that. MAMA, WHY YOU DOING THAT?!" That never gets annoying...insert seriously long and dramatic eye roll. For a little girl that went so long without uttering a word she sure is making up for lost time and even our closest friends frequently comment about how much she talks and how well she talks. A lot, and really well.

When we drive in the car she asks me to roll her window down so that she can say hi to people and then she proceeds to enthusiastically wave and shout greetings to fellow cars, homeless people on the street, Bird riders and even trees and flowers if there are slim people pickings. She sings all the time, mostly Daniel Tiger songs, and will often chastise her siblings with music. At the table she'll tell Everett, "You gotta try new things 'cause they might taste good" and has been known to sing a fitful Quinny the song, "When something feels bad turn it around, and find something good." If I want a few minutes of peace during the day I will sit her at the table with a coloring book and ask Alexa to play Daniel Tiger music. If I'm lucky she'll sit and sing along, if I'm not she'll follow me around and ask if I want to sing with her! (Which I do...as long as we switch Alexa to Taylor or Ariana!)

For months she's been begging me to sign her up for a dance class, ballet to be exact, and I've been all--you mean basketball?! This sort of girliness that comes so naturally to her is far out of my wheelhouse, but I finally found a class, Two-Two Ballet, and it is exceeding all of her dancing dreams. The first day the teacher couldn't figure her out because she's as tall as an average four-year-old but has the coordination and comprehension of, well, a two-year-old. #tallkidproblems But Cora is loving it and I am all gushy seeing my baby ballerina dressed in her pink leotard and flats. She is confident in her love of princesses and babies and strollers and pink and my job of late is to sit back and watch this fancy little girl sparkle!

Who gets to go to dance today? ^^^This girl!^^^ 

"I'm excited to twiwl in my dance cwass!"

Oh, I love you Coco-bird!

Sunday-sitting

Our most recent adventure in dog-sitting came with a five-month-old Australian Labradoodle named Sunday. She was so sweet and we had so much fun pretending she was ours, but puppies are a whole lot of work and this experience taught me that maybe I'm not quite ready for another newborn just yet! But if you ask the kids? We ready!!!

Easter

"Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.

But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.

No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come."

--Joseph Wirthlin, Sunday Will Come

Hand-me-down Easter duds are our very favorite kind! This was after church so they were a little scruffier than before, but I just loved how they cuddled up together on the wall when I asked for a picture. 

Considering the simplicity of a Wiggy Easter basket this picture really made me smile!

Would that I could be as happy everyday as Coco was when she was given a "blowie flower" by her brother.

No picture of Easter dinner with friends, copies of the talks we gave during Sacrament Meeting or views of my pajama'd babies hunting for eggs, but this Easter was a good one and this picture is my favorite. I'm so thankful for my Savior--his life, death and resurrection and I love Him. I know that He lives. 

April Fools Day at the Beach

None of these are April Fools Day jokes: We had our first official 2019 beach day on Cesar Chavez Day, thank goodness for an 80 degree day off of school. We stayed and played for 7 1/2 hours. I reapplied sunscreen every other hour and no one got burned. We had the time of our little Wiggy lives.

Now, here's an April Fools Day joke: Coco didn't fall asleep on the way home, didn't scream through her shower and doesn't still have sand in her hair a week later. 

Ehhh, worth it!

Bring it sunshiney SoCal Summer, we're ready for our beach bum lifestyle!

March was a party

March was a constant party, and you don't see this girl complaining. 

Here are a few random pictures from some of the fun we had.

T's shindig at school--line dancing, gambling and potlucking with gold rush (ish) food.

We caught a few hours with Ash and Log before they headed out on their 10th anniversary cruise. Any time spent with them, especially my favorite little sister, is magical.

James has been diligent about keeping our Sunday's full of service, including rotating between a couple of nursing facilities. We played games with the memory care patients at this place and it was so fun.

Long story short, these two set out on a Daddy/daughter date to the Dodgers where front row tickets and endless food awaited them, only to break down on the side of the road within viewing distance of the stadium. Quinny was such a trooper as they waited for AAA for hours and James was heart broken. Luckily they made it to the game (with two innings to spare) and Quinny even caught a ball before one of James' coworkers brought them home. Best laid plans, amiright?!

Melissa and I showed up to decorate for an activity in head-to-toe the same outfit. Literally same shirt, pants and shoes. It was hilarious, and so typical of us!

Afternoon sibling reading sessions.

Chase's birthday party at Camelot--so much fun with so many crazy kids!

Quinn's Multicultural Day at School where students represented Thailand, Hawaii and India. My little hula girl was just the cutest and made me so proud! I'll never forget her part, "Hawaii became the 50th state in 1959. The capitol of Hawaii is Honolulu." 

Oh, sweet Quinn. I can't believe how big you are getting.

Cora dressed in the most Hawaiian thing she owned because she didn't want to be left out! I still can't believe these two are mine. 

Quinny and Annie, two peas in a pod.

You Don't Owe Prettiness to Anyone.

"You Don't Have to Be Pretty. You don't owe prettiness to anyone. Not to your boyfriend/spouse/partner, not to your co-workers, especially not to random men on the street. You don't owe it to your mother, you don't owe it to your children, you don't owe it to civilization in general. Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked "female". I'm not saying that you SHOULDN'T be pretty if you want to. (You don't owe UN-prettiness to feminism, in other words.) Pretty is pleasant, and fun, and satisfying, and makes people smile, often even at you. But in the hierarchy of importance, pretty stands several rungs down from happy, is way below healthy, and if done as a penance, or an obligation, can be so far away from independent that you may have to squint really hard to see it in the haze." 

--Erin McKean from A Dress a Day

This has long been a favorite quote. It was a favorite before I ever had daughters of my own and it's my favorite now that I have two unique, amazing, confident, beautiful and astoundingly different ones. Basically I read this quote and find peace in a world where a woman can be exactly the shade of feminine or feminist she wants, and it's all good. You can be pretty in your own way. Strong in your own way. Driven and independent and happy in your own way. You can like Bob the Builder or Barbie, Fancy Nancy or football, princesses or play fighting and maybe all of the above some days and that's OK. That's amazing even! It's such an incredible time to be raising women in this world and I'm thrilled that my girls get to be living their one big, important life right now, when the world is rich and ready for them.

What you get when they dress themselves for the park! Yin and yang, these two.

Coco wants dresses and curls, Quinny cargo jeans and buns, but they both dig those glasses at swim lessons!

That armband rarely leaves her wrist and she likes her brothers cub scout hat because it looks like Ash from Pokemon.

Dress yourself, another edition.

Post-run protein drink with a "princess cheetah" that wanted to eat her cereal wif Mama.

MePa: Operation Piano

While not normally a "things" girl, a family heirloom gets me all kinds of twitter-pated. There's something about holding and using and loving an item that has been held, used and loved by my people for generations that makes me feel connected to them and breathes life into our home. I feel that way about Bops' rocking chair perfectly placed by the living room casement windows and Grandpa James' Korean Happy Man that rests on our mantle. I feel that way about Gaga's Stanford painting which hangs right outside my bedroom door, Grandpa's stain-glass heart that all the passer-by's notice and Noni's Asian Sculpture which is a focal point in our dining room. Having their items makes me feel like they are with me, looking over our family and a part of our lives here in Los Angeles. I like that these items have had a life and adventures of their own and now I am part of their story--it makes me feel like a part of something so simple and yet so grand. 

All that to say, when my parents were re-doing their living room and decided to get rid of the McKee family piano, I jumped at the opportunity to have it in my home. This was the piano that Nana bought for Noni when she was a teenager with musical talent and aspirations. She has such a beautiful voice even now, and although she admits she never appreciated the piano like she should have I can almost hear her beautiful alto voice singing along to these very keys. It cost her parents nearly $1000, a small fortune for their family, and is such a beautiful example of sacrifices that parents make for the betterment of their babies. This was the piano that saw my Dad as a mischievous and inventive little boy. One day he decided to make his piano practice just a little bit easier by using permanent marker to write the notes on the tip of each keys. It wasn't long before he realized he was a dead kid walking if he didn't fix the situation so he decided to break off the edges of every key with pliers (because kids and logic don't always come hand in hand). He doesn't remember what came of that crazy idea--obviously he lived--but I love the story that goes behind this old piano's broken keys. And this was the piano of my youth. It was the piano I practiced on when my parents were weeding someone's yard in exchange for my weekly lessons. It was the piano that held my Mom's treasured Christmas houses each holiday season, the same houses that I have inherited and this year will sit atop the piano at my home. It was the piano that James played Beatles music on when our love was fresh and new. This piano has had a life already rich, and now my children and our Wigginton family are part of it's journey.  

My parents were kind enough to rent a Uhaul and drive it down to LA a few weekends ago. Other than a pinched neck from my Dad lifting more than his share, the transfer went off without a hitch...and our family is THRILLED with our new addition. A piano tuner came just a few days later and after tuning our instrument and playing some show-tunes, told us that when this piano was manufactured there were no Ipads or computers or even TV's. Families would sit around the piano for hours to play and sing and laugh; it was the center of their home. He played a few more songs and said, "This piano is in great condition and plays beautifully. It can be the heart of your home too." And did I cry? You know I cried a little. I hope this piano is a meeting place in our home for years to come. 

Thanks Mom and Dad, Noni and Nana, we love you all!  

Our new piano with our amazing tuner, Jeff.

Mema got to crash Ev's publishing party where he wrote All About Lego's and dedicated it to his big brother.

Basically Mom was here for 36 hours and I made her do all the work-out things with me! We scootered, went to hip hop class and went on a 4-mile run. It was an eventful and fun and exhausting time!

I really loved the Lego Movie 2. Like, reeeeeallly recommend it!

While Mom and I ran, Coco and Pepa cuddled and watched Daniel Tiger. Sweet duo!