Two nights ago, Gwen went to a Halloween party held by one of her fellow students. When I dropped her off, I noticed that there were about forty or fifty kids there already, and more cars pulling up, so I asked the parents if they needed help. They insisted they were fine, Gwen insisted that I stay, so I stayed. I don't know why, but after an initial foray into the basement on her own, Gwen seemed to have little interest in doing anything except sitting on my lap. Now, admittedly, she may have been hot from her Halloween costume (an Iguanadon costume made from a sweatsuit.) Maybe it was the shift out of daylight savings time. The thought even crossed my mind that she might be plain old bored -- most of my parties have activities scheduled from start to finish, and this was more free-form. This last theory may hold the most water because she did ask after we had been there for half an hour, "When is the party starting?"
Anyway, she just seemed tireder and more bored and finally, as she lay limply on my lap, I said, "Honey, would you like to go home?" We were still an hour from the supposed party end (heck, people were still arriving), and just when I thought she might agree, someone said the magic word: pinata.
I have never seen anyone come back from the dead so fast. She practically fell down the stairs in her haste to get to the basement level of the back deck. She didn't want to swing at the pinata ("How can I hold my bag if I am holding onto the stick?") but once the paper ghost did break, she was right in the thick of it, elbowing much bigger kids out of her way.
When the chaos was over, she came running up to me and shouted, "Mommy! Mommy! I got toys, and candy, and I filled my whole bag! LET'S GO HOME!"
So we did.
Last night, our Karate school had Halloween parties in lieu of typical classes. Xavier had a pretty good cough going, but I figured that since it was supposed to be a "slow" class, maybe he would take it easy. Evidently I had not had enough coffee yesterday, because there is no such thing as a "slow" anything where Xavier is involved.
In any event, a good time was had by all, and as I was leaving, I jested to the instructor (or, as Xavier calls him, "Constructor"), "Sure, we'll be spending the night in the emergency room, but it was worth it!"
So, four hours later, in the emergency room, Xavier was gasping for breath, and we learned that even though the ER at our local hospital is even busier on a Halloween Monday than on an April Friday, you get ported through much faster if your kid is coughing on everybody. (Seriously, in April we were there for five hours, while last night it was a simple three.) Even though he could barely breathe and he threw up in a garbage can, Xavier was still a charmer, and the nurses and the doctors all wanted to take him home. He even charmed the folks on the other side of the curtain that partitioned the Observation Room we were in, and they couldn't even see him.
Anyway, he wasn't a whole lot better today, so Adam got to go on a quest for a nebulizer that was covered by my insurance. The pediatrician says that this may be a precursor for asthma, but it is too soon to tell, and that, along with the two hours of sleep I managed to squeeze in last night, kind of put a damper on the Halloween festivities. Luckily, the kids didn't know the difference.
Even though Xavier was not allowed to go Trick or Treating, I would have had to tie him down to keep him from running to the door every time the doorbell rang. Usually Gwen was right behind him, announcing, "Mommy! Mommy! Someone is here!" as if the three or four doorbell rings per customer was below my level of hearing. Then, treats in hand, as the visitors would be turning away, Gwen would call, "Have a Happy Halloween! Don't get sick!" This did net her a lot of quizzical glances, and toward the end of the evening, I began to think maybe we should rename our home "The House O' Croup and Plague." The kids insisted on eating dinner an hour early so they could get their costumes on (yes, grandparents, there are pictures.)
Adam got home at seven o'clock and took Miranda off trick or treating. After an initial plea that both parents stay home with him, Xavier was pretty content to "trick or treat" from our own stockpile, and we watched the rest of the Nightmare Before Christmas. When the movie ended, feeling a little sorry for the boy, I said, "Sweetie, would you like to walk with me out to the curb and see how our house looks?" I hoisted him up, we opened the door, and we were not halfway across the yard when our attention was arrested by a blood-curdling scream. Looking across our neighbors yard, we saw a pink Iguanadon with baby blue trim running across the driveway clutching a satchel of candy in one hand, the back of her tail with the other, screaming, "Potty! I NEED TO GO POTTY!" A few steps behind her, of course, was my husband. (And, yes, Gwen did pick the colors for her costume.)
Well, with luck, tonight will be a quiet one. Wish me luck -- I was tired enough that I forgot to drink my coffee (twice) today. And another short night might even try Xavier's sunny disposition.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Scary Things
This morning when I woke up, I was on autopilot as usual. Put on the clothes, put on the shoes, take the gym bag downstairs, take out the garbage ... it was only when I stepped outside into the fingers of icy wind, twirling a few stray snowflakes around in the darkness, that I realized what a truly creepy morning it was. Very October.
Anyway, I came back inside and was crossing the living room toward the bathroom to wash my hands, when suddenly I spotted ... very quiet, very still ... behind the rocking chair ... a thatch of black hair crowning an orange face.
Now, on a certain conscious level, I knew it was just Xavier, that he must have awakened when I came downstairs, and he had whimsically put on the pumpkin mask that my mother had sent him in the mail. On a less rational level, my mind screamed, "Oh my gosh, it's Chuckie!" (The scary doll from the movie Child's Play, which I have not actually seen.) I think if he had been dancing around (or if I had had more sleep) he would not have been quite so frightening. Anyway, once I stepped around the rocking chair and saw him standing there with his blue "fish" pajamas, a Humpty Dumpty magazine, and a bear, he wasn't nearly as scary, the mask not withstanding.
The mask is a big favorite with him, as it turns out, because he wore it the entire time we were at the pet store, buying a Beta fish for Gwen. She has gotten really excited about the prospect of getting a pet fish since she saw the aquarium in the Sunday School room. I, on the other hand, have been a little apprehensive, because fish, well ... they come about as close to disposable pets as they come. In fact, it is not entirely unexpected when a fish fails to survive even the short trip home from the pet store. To prepare Gwen for this trauma, I explained to her on the way to the pet store that these things happen, and that the average life span for a fish is probably less than a year. Gwen nodded blissfully, then made observations all the way home along the lines of, "Look! He likes me!" and "He sure looks hungry!"
Xavier, on the other hand, really seized upon the prospect of the fish's mortality, and kept saying, "You know that fish is going to die, don't you, Gwen? Mommy, what if the fish dies tonight? If you feed it too much, Miwanda, that fish is going to die."
Die, die, die. That fish probably would die if he was capable of understanding what Gwen has named it: Loveboy Love Superfish. I love my daughter, but if that isn't scary, I don't know what is.
Anyway, I came back inside and was crossing the living room toward the bathroom to wash my hands, when suddenly I spotted ... very quiet, very still ... behind the rocking chair ... a thatch of black hair crowning an orange face.
Now, on a certain conscious level, I knew it was just Xavier, that he must have awakened when I came downstairs, and he had whimsically put on the pumpkin mask that my mother had sent him in the mail. On a less rational level, my mind screamed, "Oh my gosh, it's Chuckie!" (The scary doll from the movie Child's Play, which I have not actually seen.) I think if he had been dancing around (or if I had had more sleep) he would not have been quite so frightening. Anyway, once I stepped around the rocking chair and saw him standing there with his blue "fish" pajamas, a Humpty Dumpty magazine, and a bear, he wasn't nearly as scary, the mask not withstanding.
The mask is a big favorite with him, as it turns out, because he wore it the entire time we were at the pet store, buying a Beta fish for Gwen. She has gotten really excited about the prospect of getting a pet fish since she saw the aquarium in the Sunday School room. I, on the other hand, have been a little apprehensive, because fish, well ... they come about as close to disposable pets as they come. In fact, it is not entirely unexpected when a fish fails to survive even the short trip home from the pet store. To prepare Gwen for this trauma, I explained to her on the way to the pet store that these things happen, and that the average life span for a fish is probably less than a year. Gwen nodded blissfully, then made observations all the way home along the lines of, "Look! He likes me!" and "He sure looks hungry!"
Xavier, on the other hand, really seized upon the prospect of the fish's mortality, and kept saying, "You know that fish is going to die, don't you, Gwen? Mommy, what if the fish dies tonight? If you feed it too much, Miwanda, that fish is going to die."
Die, die, die. That fish probably would die if he was capable of understanding what Gwen has named it: Loveboy Love Superfish. I love my daughter, but if that isn't scary, I don't know what is.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Parent-Teacher Conference
We had a Parent-Teacher Conference with Gwen's kindergarten teacher today. She says that Gwen is probably one of the smartest kids in kindergarten this year (not THE smartest, but one of the smartest.) She says that Gwen is such a warm and loving child who is always willing to help out, and that she is really a wonderful addition to the classroom. She also talked about a boy in Gwen's class who Gwen has taken under her wing, as it were. It seems the boy is struggling a little, but instead of making fun of him for not being able to write his name, Gwen "dots" it out for him, then cheers him on as he follows her guide. The teacher says this has made a big difference in the boy's self esteem.
There were a couple of interesting things about this anecdote to me; first, Gwen talks about this boy at home all the time, but she has never mentioned helping him write his name (or helping him out at all.) She always describes him just as her friend.
The other thing I noticed is that while we were there, Gwen helped Xavier get toys out, play with them, then helped him put them away ... Wait a minute! She NEVER does this at home! It was then that I realized that a spirit must be taking possession of Gwen as soon as she steps into that kindergarten room and -- OK, I know she isn't really possessed, but I do think maybe she is trying to make a good impression on the teacher. She really does like going to school, though.
Xavier is his usual silly self. Tonight, after watching Ghost Hunters after putting the kids to bed, I started up the stairs myself and about had a heart attack when I saw the apparation of a child at the top of the stairs ... a child wearing pajamas and carrying a book. "I forgot to get a drink of water," he said.
After I got him a drink of water, Xavier said, "I really want to read a book until the alarm goes off."
"No, Xav, it is time to sleep. You are getting over being sick." Besides, the alarm clock is unplugged right now so the Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier could be plugged in.
"But I want to read until the alarm clock goes off!"
"No, Xav, you need to go to sleep."
"But I'm not tired!"
"You can look at a book for a few more minutes, but then you have to go to sleep."
"But my eyes hurt!" Yeah, it's no good telling him that this is because he is trying to read in the dark.
Both kids have coughs right now. Gwen keeps insisting, "I'm NOT sick (hack, hack) I just have REALLY bad allergies!" because she wants to go to school. Xavier, on the other hand, keeps insisting, "I'm too sick to go to school!"
I have an inkling on how his Parent-Teacher Conferences are going to run.
PS The Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier is really cool! I'm not a big Thomas fan, but the steam comes out of his spout! And their is a nightlight inside that reflects through the water in the tank, casting a pale blue light around the room. And the buffer lights are red when the water tank is not set up appropriately and green otherwise! I want one.
Of course, the real danger with this is that Xavier thinks it is a toy. We keep telling him it is not, and that if we catch him playing with it we will have to take it away. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, he asked to sleep with the door closed. Adam found his beloved George monkey downstairs and took it up to him. I'm pretty sure you know what Xavier was doing when Adam opened the door.
There were a couple of interesting things about this anecdote to me; first, Gwen talks about this boy at home all the time, but she has never mentioned helping him write his name (or helping him out at all.) She always describes him just as her friend.
The other thing I noticed is that while we were there, Gwen helped Xavier get toys out, play with them, then helped him put them away ... Wait a minute! She NEVER does this at home! It was then that I realized that a spirit must be taking possession of Gwen as soon as she steps into that kindergarten room and -- OK, I know she isn't really possessed, but I do think maybe she is trying to make a good impression on the teacher. She really does like going to school, though.
Xavier is his usual silly self. Tonight, after watching Ghost Hunters after putting the kids to bed, I started up the stairs myself and about had a heart attack when I saw the apparation of a child at the top of the stairs ... a child wearing pajamas and carrying a book. "I forgot to get a drink of water," he said.
After I got him a drink of water, Xavier said, "I really want to read a book until the alarm goes off."
"No, Xav, it is time to sleep. You are getting over being sick." Besides, the alarm clock is unplugged right now so the Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier could be plugged in.
"But I want to read until the alarm clock goes off!"
"No, Xav, you need to go to sleep."
"But I'm not tired!"
"You can look at a book for a few more minutes, but then you have to go to sleep."
"But my eyes hurt!" Yeah, it's no good telling him that this is because he is trying to read in the dark.
Both kids have coughs right now. Gwen keeps insisting, "I'm NOT sick (hack, hack) I just have REALLY bad allergies!" because she wants to go to school. Xavier, on the other hand, keeps insisting, "I'm too sick to go to school!"
I have an inkling on how his Parent-Teacher Conferences are going to run.
PS The Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier is really cool! I'm not a big Thomas fan, but the steam comes out of his spout! And their is a nightlight inside that reflects through the water in the tank, casting a pale blue light around the room. And the buffer lights are red when the water tank is not set up appropriately and green otherwise! I want one.
Of course, the real danger with this is that Xavier thinks it is a toy. We keep telling him it is not, and that if we catch him playing with it we will have to take it away. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, he asked to sleep with the door closed. Adam found his beloved George monkey downstairs and took it up to him. I'm pretty sure you know what Xavier was doing when Adam opened the door.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Allergies and School Lunch
Allergy season has been pretty rough here this year, to the point that Adam and I (who almost never take allergy medicine) are taking Claritan this year. Poor Gwen has it worse than we do, and despite being on Claritan, is still waking up coughing at night. Given my professional job as Fretter, I made Adam take her to the doctor to make sure it wasn't asthma (it isn't), and to see if there was anything else we could do to make her more comfortable. The doctor prescribed Zirtec; in reviewing the side effects, it says that it can cause vomiting in small children. At first I was hesitant -- but then I remembered that given the level of her cough at mealtimes, she might be susceptible to vomiting if we DON'T try the new medicine, so I guess we are damned if we do, damned if we don't ... anyway, it can also cause drowsiness, so we will probably wait until the weekend to transition her.
Other than being a little sleep-deprived, though, her spirits are pretty good. This is National School Lunch week, so parents were invited to join their kids for lunch. Gwen was very happy and excited that I came, but it didn't take me very long to figure out why I hated school lunch as a kid. At the end of lunch, my tray was pretty much as it was in the beginning (covered with unedible food), except for the chicken nuggets portion because Gwen ate approximately half of them. Gwen, of course, had brought her own lunch, so she was spared the horrors of the alleged potatoes au g-rotten, broccili salad (which sounded good, but wasn't) and a roll that had the approximate flavor of school glue. Still, seeing her eat meat -- even if it is chicken nuggets -- did make me think ... I wonder if we can set her up with the "Processed Meat" plan?
Anyway, when I asked her when we got home today what the best part of school was today, she said, "We had a substitute teacher!" It was kind of humbling.
Xavier and I had a "date" on Monday (I took it off thinking it was a school holiday, but it wasn't.) We went to a Japanese restaurant for lunch (where he was mistaken for a girl, but didn't care because he was offered a lollipop.) Then we stopped at my office for a quick meeting (where he was again mistaken for a girl despite the fact that he was hauling a Transformer around -- I guess he needs a haircut.) While I was talking to my coworker Christian, Xavier came over and said, "Make my transformer a car again!"
Now, these Transformer cars require a PhD to master, and I do not have a PhD. Having expressed this sentiment, Christian said, "I used to LOVE these things when I was a kid!" Five minutes later, Xav and I were twiddling our thumbs while Christian struggled to put the car back together. One of my other coworkers has been nursing a baby kitten, so I thought maybe Xav and I could go see the kitten while Christian worked on his high priority project. I didn 't want to get Xav's hopes up so I called a different coworker to see if Ross was in. Alas, Ross (and, more importantly, the kitten) were not in. The called coworker (Jim) offered to let Xav play with some of his puzzles, but, glancing over at Christian, I said, "Naah, I've already ruined Christian's productivity for the day. No reason to bring you down to our level."
Well, a little man is begging me to come play Transformers, but I have one more quotable quote from Xav. Xav, as some of you know, is on a specialized diet to help with constipation issues. Last night the kids were listening to a Veggie Tales song while brushing their teeth (we use the songs to time them.) Some of the songs are of a religious nature, and the song in question had a chorus of
"Stand ... for what you believe in, believe in,
Believe in God -- he's the one to back you up --
He'll stand by you ... he'll stand by you ..."
Xavier piped up suddenly, "God doesn't back you up -- popcorn does!"
Other than being a little sleep-deprived, though, her spirits are pretty good. This is National School Lunch week, so parents were invited to join their kids for lunch. Gwen was very happy and excited that I came, but it didn't take me very long to figure out why I hated school lunch as a kid. At the end of lunch, my tray was pretty much as it was in the beginning (covered with unedible food), except for the chicken nuggets portion because Gwen ate approximately half of them. Gwen, of course, had brought her own lunch, so she was spared the horrors of the alleged potatoes au g-rotten, broccili salad (which sounded good, but wasn't) and a roll that had the approximate flavor of school glue. Still, seeing her eat meat -- even if it is chicken nuggets -- did make me think ... I wonder if we can set her up with the "Processed Meat" plan?
Anyway, when I asked her when we got home today what the best part of school was today, she said, "We had a substitute teacher!" It was kind of humbling.
Xavier and I had a "date" on Monday (I took it off thinking it was a school holiday, but it wasn't.) We went to a Japanese restaurant for lunch (where he was mistaken for a girl, but didn't care because he was offered a lollipop.) Then we stopped at my office for a quick meeting (where he was again mistaken for a girl despite the fact that he was hauling a Transformer around -- I guess he needs a haircut.) While I was talking to my coworker Christian, Xavier came over and said, "Make my transformer a car again!"
Now, these Transformer cars require a PhD to master, and I do not have a PhD. Having expressed this sentiment, Christian said, "I used to LOVE these things when I was a kid!" Five minutes later, Xav and I were twiddling our thumbs while Christian struggled to put the car back together. One of my other coworkers has been nursing a baby kitten, so I thought maybe Xav and I could go see the kitten while Christian worked on his high priority project. I didn 't want to get Xav's hopes up so I called a different coworker to see if Ross was in. Alas, Ross (and, more importantly, the kitten) were not in. The called coworker (Jim) offered to let Xav play with some of his puzzles, but, glancing over at Christian, I said, "Naah, I've already ruined Christian's productivity for the day. No reason to bring you down to our level."
Well, a little man is begging me to come play Transformers, but I have one more quotable quote from Xav. Xav, as some of you know, is on a specialized diet to help with constipation issues. Last night the kids were listening to a Veggie Tales song while brushing their teeth (we use the songs to time them.) Some of the songs are of a religious nature, and the song in question had a chorus of
"Stand ... for what you believe in, believe in,
Believe in God -- he's the one to back you up --
He'll stand by you ... he'll stand by you ..."
Xavier piped up suddenly, "God doesn't back you up -- popcorn does!"
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Oops! One more thing ...
Gwen had her school pictures taken the other day, and yesterday she brought home the proofs. The pictures are great ... if she is a student at the School for the Criminally Insane Five-Year-Olds.
Yes, there was definitely a Calvin-and-Hobbes-esque quality to these shots. When Adam looked at them, he asked, "Now, did the photographer only take one shot, or is that the best of three?" When Uncle Tom was here on Sunday, he could probably sympathize with that poor photographer, because Gwen hammed it up on every shot.
Adam doesn't think we should buy any of these pictures because he thinks we could take a better picture of her ourselves to distribute amongst the relatives, but I am tempted to go ahead and buy the cheapest set. I'll put them away in a drawer so I can pull them out and embarrass her when she is fifteen. If I can scare off her first boyfriend with them, all the better.
Besides, I know there is no way she'll let us take a better picture than that unless she is asleep.
Yes, there was definitely a Calvin-and-Hobbes-esque quality to these shots. When Adam looked at them, he asked, "Now, did the photographer only take one shot, or is that the best of three?" When Uncle Tom was here on Sunday, he could probably sympathize with that poor photographer, because Gwen hammed it up on every shot.
Adam doesn't think we should buy any of these pictures because he thinks we could take a better picture of her ourselves to distribute amongst the relatives, but I am tempted to go ahead and buy the cheapest set. I'll put them away in a drawer so I can pull them out and embarrass her when she is fifteen. If I can scare off her first boyfriend with them, all the better.
Besides, I know there is no way she'll let us take a better picture than that unless she is asleep.
Monday, October 02, 2006
California Dreaming
My Uncle Tom and Aunt Liesel came to visit yesterday from California. The kids fell in love with them almost immediately (of course, they did come bearing gifts.) They brought Gwen a psychedelic bear (which now shares a bed with her and her aptly named "pet", Dino), and they brought Xavier a small Curious George doll.
They stayed for dinner, and after the kids were ready for bed, they said their goodbyes. Xavier was very upset. "I don't want them to go -- I want them to stay! When are they coming back?"
"Well, probably not for awhile, Sweetie -- they live in California."
"Can we go see them there? Soon?"
Then, as I was putting him to bed, he held up the Curious George doll and asked, "Why did they leave their monkey here? Don't they like him anymore?"
"Why, Xavier," I replied, "they brought that monkey for you."
Xavier pondered that for a second, then pulled out another monkey my parents got him in Savannah that he sleeps with (along with his perennial favorites, "Pink Bear", "Bunny", and "Turtle") and said (referring to Curious George and Savannah monkey respectively), "This can be the baby monkey, then, and this can be the mommy."
Pink Bear's reign as favored toy may be in danger -- tonight when Xav woke up to go to the bathroom, he brought a book -- A Mother For Choco -- and Curious George with him. Curious George also accompanied him to school and sat and watched while Xavier had karate class.
Along those lines, it seems Gwen is beginning to show her true political colors. As I was loading them into the car today after karate, Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and said, "Mommy, make Miranda stop calling my monkey George W. !"
In other news ... Gwen's interest in karate has now been rekindled by her discovery of the Century catalog, which has all kinds of cool karate doohickies one might buy ... I don't think she knows what most of them are for, but she wants them all the same.
She also bought herself one of those Magic 8 Ball toys. If you aren't familiar with what those are, they are a giant 8 ball (as you might see from pool) with a window in it and a die inside that has different yes-no-maybe-so type answers; you ask the 8 ball yes-no type questions (like, "Will the Hokies ever win a bowl game?"), and check the answer in the window for your mystic answer ("Concentrate harder and try again.") Gwen was a little daunted when she realized that you have to know how to read to find out your answer, but she didn't let her slow her down -- she started sounding words out like a pro. I faced a more daunting task trying to persuade her that the Magic 8 ball had no psychic powers.
The best Magic 8 ball exchange occurred, however, when I asked the Magic 8 Ball, "Will Xavier's hair catch on fire?" (An inside joke that has no basis in reality.)
Magic 8 Ball responded, "Decidedly yes."
Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and moaned, "Oh, no -- not again!"
We had a fun time with Uncle Tom and Aunt Liesel, and we hope the rest of their East Coast vacation is lovely. Take care!
They stayed for dinner, and after the kids were ready for bed, they said their goodbyes. Xavier was very upset. "I don't want them to go -- I want them to stay! When are they coming back?"
"Well, probably not for awhile, Sweetie -- they live in California."
"Can we go see them there? Soon?"
Then, as I was putting him to bed, he held up the Curious George doll and asked, "Why did they leave their monkey here? Don't they like him anymore?"
"Why, Xavier," I replied, "they brought that monkey for you."
Xavier pondered that for a second, then pulled out another monkey my parents got him in Savannah that he sleeps with (along with his perennial favorites, "Pink Bear", "Bunny", and "Turtle") and said (referring to Curious George and Savannah monkey respectively), "This can be the baby monkey, then, and this can be the mommy."
Pink Bear's reign as favored toy may be in danger -- tonight when Xav woke up to go to the bathroom, he brought a book -- A Mother For Choco -- and Curious George with him. Curious George also accompanied him to school and sat and watched while Xavier had karate class.
Along those lines, it seems Gwen is beginning to show her true political colors. As I was loading them into the car today after karate, Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and said, "Mommy, make Miranda stop calling my monkey George W. !"
In other news ... Gwen's interest in karate has now been rekindled by her discovery of the Century catalog, which has all kinds of cool karate doohickies one might buy ... I don't think she knows what most of them are for, but she wants them all the same.
She also bought herself one of those Magic 8 Ball toys. If you aren't familiar with what those are, they are a giant 8 ball (as you might see from pool) with a window in it and a die inside that has different yes-no-maybe-so type answers; you ask the 8 ball yes-no type questions (like, "Will the Hokies ever win a bowl game?"), and check the answer in the window for your mystic answer ("Concentrate harder and try again.") Gwen was a little daunted when she realized that you have to know how to read to find out your answer, but she didn't let her slow her down -- she started sounding words out like a pro. I faced a more daunting task trying to persuade her that the Magic 8 ball had no psychic powers.
The best Magic 8 ball exchange occurred, however, when I asked the Magic 8 Ball, "Will Xavier's hair catch on fire?" (An inside joke that has no basis in reality.)
Magic 8 Ball responded, "Decidedly yes."
Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and moaned, "Oh, no -- not again!"
We had a fun time with Uncle Tom and Aunt Liesel, and we hope the rest of their East Coast vacation is lovely. Take care!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Art, Weddings, and Other Things
My friends Tania and Mike got married this weekend. It was a beautiful ceremony at her sister's lovely home, and although it had started out drizzily, by evening it was pleasant. The bride was beautiful (of course), and the groom looked handsome. They wrote their own vows, and it was a very lovely, emotional ceremony. They could not have asked for a more beautiful setting or a more beautiful autumn evening. We wish Aunt Tania and Uncle Mike (as we call them to the kids) the very best.
Adam got the kids some Halloween magazines to entertain them on the way to the wedding (three and a half hour drive, and we decided not to spend the night at a hotel, so it was three and a half hours back as well.) I also got the kids some Halloween activity books, but I got them too far in advance and forgot about them until I opened up the bag while I was doing some house-cleaning. Anyway, Gwen used the magazine to plan for our upcoming Halloween party, but lost interest an hour or so into the trip. Xav, on the other hand, seems to be using the magazine to plan his life ("Can we make this? And this? And this?") and not only carried the magazine around with him at the wedding, but is still carrying it around with him today, showing me -- whenever he gets me cornered -- various desserts he wants to try. Maybe he has a future in catering as well as in candy-making. He was showing some interest today in making houses and airplanes, and I commented, "Gee, Xav -- I can't tell if you are really going to be a chocolatier, or an architect, or an engineer. So many choices!"
He laughed and said, "Mommy -- of course I am going to be a chocolatier!" Probably just as well, given that his building material of choice is dominoes.
Along these lines, Tania, Xavier thought the food at your wedding was "the best." Of course, about all we could get him to eat was soda and cake, so his opinion might be a bit biased.
On planet Gwen, she has been showing us some artwork she had done at school. Evidently they had been talking about Pablo Picasso, and we went online so she could show me some of the works of art he had done that she especially liked ("Three Musicians" -- which she actually knew by name -- was a big favorite, although the piece they were simulating in class was "Hands With Flowers" -- which she also knew by name.) The funniest part, though, was when she was telling us about some of his other work: "Yeah, he painted a picture of a friend of his, and it looked like a regular guy ... but then he painted a picture of his friend later, and his eyes were in a funny place on the side of his head, and his ears weren't where they were supposed to be either ... Pablo Picasso was pretty good when he was young, but his work got uglier as he got older."
Adam got the kids some Halloween magazines to entertain them on the way to the wedding (three and a half hour drive, and we decided not to spend the night at a hotel, so it was three and a half hours back as well.) I also got the kids some Halloween activity books, but I got them too far in advance and forgot about them until I opened up the bag while I was doing some house-cleaning. Anyway, Gwen used the magazine to plan for our upcoming Halloween party, but lost interest an hour or so into the trip. Xav, on the other hand, seems to be using the magazine to plan his life ("Can we make this? And this? And this?") and not only carried the magazine around with him at the wedding, but is still carrying it around with him today, showing me -- whenever he gets me cornered -- various desserts he wants to try. Maybe he has a future in catering as well as in candy-making. He was showing some interest today in making houses and airplanes, and I commented, "Gee, Xav -- I can't tell if you are really going to be a chocolatier, or an architect, or an engineer. So many choices!"
He laughed and said, "Mommy -- of course I am going to be a chocolatier!" Probably just as well, given that his building material of choice is dominoes.
Along these lines, Tania, Xavier thought the food at your wedding was "the best." Of course, about all we could get him to eat was soda and cake, so his opinion might be a bit biased.
On planet Gwen, she has been showing us some artwork she had done at school. Evidently they had been talking about Pablo Picasso, and we went online so she could show me some of the works of art he had done that she especially liked ("Three Musicians" -- which she actually knew by name -- was a big favorite, although the piece they were simulating in class was "Hands With Flowers" -- which she also knew by name.) The funniest part, though, was when she was telling us about some of his other work: "Yeah, he painted a picture of a friend of his, and it looked like a regular guy ... but then he painted a picture of his friend later, and his eyes were in a funny place on the side of his head, and his ears weren't where they were supposed to be either ... Pablo Picasso was pretty good when he was young, but his work got uglier as he got older."
Monday, September 18, 2006
Career Planning
Our karate school did a demo at a local festival over the weekend. It went okay; nobody died, and the kids were cute (the person who showed the most interest, in fact, was another child.) I managed not to fall off the stage, Gwen did not faint from stage fright, and Xavier's only disappointment was that one of the black belts broke the stand when breaking some bricks, so Xav didn't get a chance to do some brick-breaking himself (for which I am eternally grateful.) All and all, a good time was had by all, but I have to admit that Xavier's interest in becoming a karate teacher has waned now that he has a new dream. Yes, Xavier is now looking at a career in ... chocolate.
Xavier has become obsessed with chocolate. When I was helping him use the bathroom at the neighbor's house the other day, he noticed a Hello Kitty calendar hanging by the potty, commented on how nice it was, then added, "We should get one for our bathroom -- except ours should be a chocolate calendar."
Gwen, our budding paleontologist was remarking at the dinner table tonight that when she grows up, she plans to move "far away -- all the way to the other side of Virginia!" where the dinosaur bones are more plentiful (in her dreams.) Xavier reached for my hand and said, "I don't want to move away -- I want to stay in the family!" (Yes, now we sound like the mob.) Still, you can't help but be touched when a child expresses a sentiment like this, though I don't expect it to persist. "Well, you can live with us if you want to," I said, "As long as you get a job and help provide for yourself."
"Well, of course I am going to get a job, Mommy!" he said with impatient disdain.
"And what do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked.
"I already told you -- I'm going to be a chocolate maker." He looked around at our (admittedly small) tile-top dining room table and added, "I'm going to make chocolate here, in this house, at this table!"
Hmmmm, my self-control is already weak enough without constant temptation ... plus, given Xavier's penchant (or lack thereof) for tidiness, I'm not sure there is room enough in this house for both his blossoming career and his super-tidy father.
Perhaps we should start pushing him back toward a career as a karate instructor.
Xavier has become obsessed with chocolate. When I was helping him use the bathroom at the neighbor's house the other day, he noticed a Hello Kitty calendar hanging by the potty, commented on how nice it was, then added, "We should get one for our bathroom -- except ours should be a chocolate calendar."
Gwen, our budding paleontologist was remarking at the dinner table tonight that when she grows up, she plans to move "far away -- all the way to the other side of Virginia!" where the dinosaur bones are more plentiful (in her dreams.) Xavier reached for my hand and said, "I don't want to move away -- I want to stay in the family!" (Yes, now we sound like the mob.) Still, you can't help but be touched when a child expresses a sentiment like this, though I don't expect it to persist. "Well, you can live with us if you want to," I said, "As long as you get a job and help provide for yourself."
"Well, of course I am going to get a job, Mommy!" he said with impatient disdain.
"And what do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked.
"I already told you -- I'm going to be a chocolate maker." He looked around at our (admittedly small) tile-top dining room table and added, "I'm going to make chocolate here, in this house, at this table!"
Hmmmm, my self-control is already weak enough without constant temptation ... plus, given Xavier's penchant (or lack thereof) for tidiness, I'm not sure there is room enough in this house for both his blossoming career and his super-tidy father.
Perhaps we should start pushing him back toward a career as a karate instructor.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Name Game
Yesterday I was driving the kids home from the playground (where we coincidentally ran into their friends Shaun and Dawn from daycare), when Miranda asked me, "Are there other Smith families?" (Remember, for the sake of protecting the innocent, we do not use real last names on this site. So suspend some disbelief and pretend that our last name is Smith.)
"Of course," I said. "Uncle Matt's last name is Smith, so he and Aunt Ann and Cousins Riley and Piper are Smiths. And Nana and Papoo are Smiths. And, really, there are even Smiths that are not related to you -- sometimes when people first immigrated to America, they changed their last names so they could fit in better. In fact, Papoo's ancestors fall into that category -- they changed their names to Smith when they came over from Poland."
"Oh," Miranda said thoughtfully. "So people change their names sometimes?"
"Oh, sure," I replied.
She thought about this for a moment, then said, "Well, if that's the case, I want to change my name to Gwen." This is kind of funny, because that had been our intent when we named her before she was born -- we gave her the name Miranda because it sounded better with Smith (being polysyllabic), but we figured we would call her Gwen (or, more specifically Guin) after her middle name. Somehow, however, the name Miranda stuck.
"And I want to be called Shaun!" Xavier chorused.
"No," I said with a smile. "You can't name yourself after someone from school. It would be too confusing, for one thing."
Undaunted, Xavier replied, "Well, then, I want to be called Apple."
My husband and I didn't really expect these names to persist (and they still may not), but Adam was a little surprised when the kids got up this morning and still insisted upon being called Guin and Apple. "Guin" had even decided how she wanted to spell it (although I noticed on her papers from school that her teacher had her spelling it "Gwen", so we'll see if that ends up being the persistent spelling).
Adam is okay with Miranda going by Guin (or Gwen), but he is less enamored with calling Xav "Apple," so he had a chat with our son this morning about names: "You see, Xavier, an apple is really a fruit -- not really a person's name."
"That's okay, Daddy," Xavier replied. "I'm fruity!"
In other news, Xavier has come up with a new safety rule: "Don't play with matches in a car that is on fire."
Thank you to everyone who has given me clues on where I might take Guin/Gwen/Miranda fossil-hunting, as well as those who have given her gifts and encouragement to pursue her love of science.
"Of course," I said. "Uncle Matt's last name is Smith, so he and Aunt Ann and Cousins Riley and Piper are Smiths. And Nana and Papoo are Smiths. And, really, there are even Smiths that are not related to you -- sometimes when people first immigrated to America, they changed their last names so they could fit in better. In fact, Papoo's ancestors fall into that category -- they changed their names to Smith when they came over from Poland."
"Oh," Miranda said thoughtfully. "So people change their names sometimes?"
"Oh, sure," I replied.
She thought about this for a moment, then said, "Well, if that's the case, I want to change my name to Gwen." This is kind of funny, because that had been our intent when we named her before she was born -- we gave her the name Miranda because it sounded better with Smith (being polysyllabic), but we figured we would call her Gwen (or, more specifically Guin) after her middle name. Somehow, however, the name Miranda stuck.
"And I want to be called Shaun!" Xavier chorused.
"No," I said with a smile. "You can't name yourself after someone from school. It would be too confusing, for one thing."
Undaunted, Xavier replied, "Well, then, I want to be called Apple."
My husband and I didn't really expect these names to persist (and they still may not), but Adam was a little surprised when the kids got up this morning and still insisted upon being called Guin and Apple. "Guin" had even decided how she wanted to spell it (although I noticed on her papers from school that her teacher had her spelling it "Gwen", so we'll see if that ends up being the persistent spelling).
Adam is okay with Miranda going by Guin (or Gwen), but he is less enamored with calling Xav "Apple," so he had a chat with our son this morning about names: "You see, Xavier, an apple is really a fruit -- not really a person's name."
"That's okay, Daddy," Xavier replied. "I'm fruity!"
In other news, Xavier has come up with a new safety rule: "Don't play with matches in a car that is on fire."
Thank you to everyone who has given me clues on where I might take Guin/Gwen/Miranda fossil-hunting, as well as those who have given her gifts and encouragement to pursue her love of science.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Labor(ing) Day
My husband's parents came up this weekend after a short daliance with Ernesto. Miranda has been obsessed with going fossil-hunting, and I'd managed to push her off until this visit (mostly because I have no idea where -- in this area -- is a good place to find fossils), so it was time to pay the piper.
As it turns out, despite hours of research, I still have no idea where one might go in this area to look for fossils, but I don't want to do anything to discourage her love of science. Out of desperation, I suggested hiking to a local waterfall to look for fossils (there are PLENTY of rocks there, although I have to admit I have never actually seen a fossil there.) I had not been to this waterfall since before Miranda was born, but I remembered that there was an easy and a hard way to the falls, either way about two miles hike.
Miranda was completely psyched about this trip. When she got up in the morning, she decided to forgo on her usual stylish fare and put on her "scientist clothes": a long-sleeved pink and black striped shirt with a pair of bright red sweatpants; evidently she feels that "scientist" is synonymous with "no fashion sense." I would have found this outfit acceptable except that it was well over 80 degrees and I did not want her to die. So I tried to steer her toward a short-sleeved shirt at least, and the conversation went something like this:
Me: "How about this shirt?" (Referring to a striped t-shirt that looks lovely on her.)
Miranda: "But it isn't a science shirt!"
Me: "Of course, it is -- it can easily be clean, and it's comfortable."
Miranda: "Well ... well ... what about this shirt?" (referring to a nice green shirt.)
Me: "Yes, that one is fine, too."
Miranda: "And these shorts look so nice with it ..."
Now that everything was back in alignment in the universe, we set off. We immediately got sidetracked by the directional signs onto the hard trail (not what we'd intended), and Xavier immediately decided that he was not up to making the trip, so he ended up riding on either my shoulders (most of the time) or Adam's. But Miranda immediately took the role of trail blazer and kept us on a pretty fast pace (we had to keep reminding her that we needed to slow down for Nana and Papoo.) She let nothing daunt her or slow her down, not even the occasional stumble and fall. All in all, we were totally impressed by her. We didn't find any fossils, but she took that in stride as well.
And Xavier? He did a great job playing the role of shoulder-candy.
As it turns out, despite hours of research, I still have no idea where one might go in this area to look for fossils, but I don't want to do anything to discourage her love of science. Out of desperation, I suggested hiking to a local waterfall to look for fossils (there are PLENTY of rocks there, although I have to admit I have never actually seen a fossil there.) I had not been to this waterfall since before Miranda was born, but I remembered that there was an easy and a hard way to the falls, either way about two miles hike.
Miranda was completely psyched about this trip. When she got up in the morning, she decided to forgo on her usual stylish fare and put on her "scientist clothes": a long-sleeved pink and black striped shirt with a pair of bright red sweatpants; evidently she feels that "scientist" is synonymous with "no fashion sense." I would have found this outfit acceptable except that it was well over 80 degrees and I did not want her to die. So I tried to steer her toward a short-sleeved shirt at least, and the conversation went something like this:
Me: "How about this shirt?" (Referring to a striped t-shirt that looks lovely on her.)
Miranda: "But it isn't a science shirt!"
Me: "Of course, it is -- it can easily be clean, and it's comfortable."
Miranda: "Well ... well ... what about this shirt?" (referring to a nice green shirt.)
Me: "Yes, that one is fine, too."
Miranda: "And these shorts look so nice with it ..."
Now that everything was back in alignment in the universe, we set off. We immediately got sidetracked by the directional signs onto the hard trail (not what we'd intended), and Xavier immediately decided that he was not up to making the trip, so he ended up riding on either my shoulders (most of the time) or Adam's. But Miranda immediately took the role of trail blazer and kept us on a pretty fast pace (we had to keep reminding her that we needed to slow down for Nana and Papoo.) She let nothing daunt her or slow her down, not even the occasional stumble and fall. All in all, we were totally impressed by her. We didn't find any fossils, but she took that in stride as well.
And Xavier? He did a great job playing the role of shoulder-candy.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Safety
Miranda is doing really well at school. Today she came home with a sticker that read, "Wow! Good work!" and when I asked her what good work she had done at school, she replied, "All my work is good." We also got a note from the teacher yesterday that read, "Miranda has been WONDERFUL! She is such a sweet girl and a great student ... I'm very lucky!" This description is hard to reconcile with the little girl who throws a fit and tries to explain to me that I never listen to her when she talks about Kidfun (a theory she has come up with to explain why timeout is bad for kids and that they should be able to whatever they want), but we guess we're pretty lucky, too.
They have been talking a lot about safety at school this week, and every day Miranda comes home with an art project which illustrates some form of safety rules (most of them seeming to have to do with matches.) I guess Xavier felt left out, because he came up with his own set of safety rules, which follow.
Xavier's Rules for a Safe Life
1. Don't play with a rubber band when it is on fire.
2. Don't play with a branch with a rubber band on it because you might pull the tree down and hurt yourself.
3. Don't play with matches.
4. Don't play with your food.
5. Don't play with a cup if you drop it and it breaks and you step on the glass.
6. Don't play with a cup if it has soda in it.
7. Don't play with a tree if it is on fire.
I think you'll find that these are sound rules to live by.
They have been talking a lot about safety at school this week, and every day Miranda comes home with an art project which illustrates some form of safety rules (most of them seeming to have to do with matches.) I guess Xavier felt left out, because he came up with his own set of safety rules, which follow.
Xavier's Rules for a Safe Life
1. Don't play with a rubber band when it is on fire.
2. Don't play with a branch with a rubber band on it because you might pull the tree down and hurt yourself.
3. Don't play with matches.
4. Don't play with your food.
5. Don't play with a cup if you drop it and it breaks and you step on the glass.
6. Don't play with a cup if it has soda in it.
7. Don't play with a tree if it is on fire.
I think you'll find that these are sound rules to live by.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Kindergarten!
Last night we went to "Meet the Teacher" and met Miranda's new teacher (it was originally scheduled for Monday night but got postponed.) We came away with a thick binder of paperwork we had to fill out. Only five years old, and already bringing home homework (well, for us, anyway.)
One of the forms we had to fill out was titled, "Introduce us to your child." One of the exercises on that sheet asked us to come up with five words to describe our child (examples included "Perfectionist" and "Cheerful".) Deciding we wanted our daughter to start off on the right foot, we decided to forgo such words as "neurotic" and "whiny", but, even so, it was not easy to come up with five words to describe her. The first word to come to mind was "Scientific" because she loves science ... but loving science does not necessarily make one scientific. Being "scientific" suggests a certain orderliness and thoroughness which Miranda may acquire over time, but hasn't quite achieved ... at this point, she is satisfied with her theory that any rock which is round and relatively smooth is a dinosaur egg, else it is a diamond in the rough. So we started with "imaginative" ... then "creative" ... "affectionate" ... and then we were stuck on the whole "loves science" thing again. We tried "curious", but weren't quite satisfied with that, then gave in and put down "Science-lover."
Scanning down, we saw there was another question: "What upsets your child?" Anything that upsets her plans ... of course! Miranda is a planner, and anything that upsets her plans really puts her nose out of joint. So we scratched out "curious" and added "planner" to that first question above.
Then, as if we needed to support our hypothesis that Miranda was first and foremost a planner, we got our proof this morning.
In an earlier posting, I mentioned that the bus schedule was wrong and we weren't sure where the closest bus stop was, so we've been practicing walking to the second closest bus stop to have the drill down on the first day of school. We knew all along that today we would run into people along the way who knew where that phantom bus stop was, but in the meantime it was all about timing.
Sure enough, as we headed down the street this morning, we came across some girls waiting with their dad for the bus. One of the girls was starting kindergarten, just like Miranda, and we tried to get Miranda to stop and say hello to the girl, but Miranda started flipping out. "But this isn't our bus stop!" she cried.
"Sure it is!" I said. "We were just going to that other bus stop for practice -- remember?"
"But this isn't our stop!" Miranda cried as she launched into a mini-meltdown because we weren't walking an additional quarter mile down the street according to plan. Luckily, we managed to distract her and order was restored to the world. In her defense, she was so excited about starting school today that she got up at 5:45, so we have to cut her some slack.
Anyway, she had a good day today, learned all about rules and manners. I think she will have a good year.
One of the forms we had to fill out was titled, "Introduce us to your child." One of the exercises on that sheet asked us to come up with five words to describe our child (examples included "Perfectionist" and "Cheerful".) Deciding we wanted our daughter to start off on the right foot, we decided to forgo such words as "neurotic" and "whiny", but, even so, it was not easy to come up with five words to describe her. The first word to come to mind was "Scientific" because she loves science ... but loving science does not necessarily make one scientific. Being "scientific" suggests a certain orderliness and thoroughness which Miranda may acquire over time, but hasn't quite achieved ... at this point, she is satisfied with her theory that any rock which is round and relatively smooth is a dinosaur egg, else it is a diamond in the rough. So we started with "imaginative" ... then "creative" ... "affectionate" ... and then we were stuck on the whole "loves science" thing again. We tried "curious", but weren't quite satisfied with that, then gave in and put down "Science-lover."
Scanning down, we saw there was another question: "What upsets your child?" Anything that upsets her plans ... of course! Miranda is a planner, and anything that upsets her plans really puts her nose out of joint. So we scratched out "curious" and added "planner" to that first question above.
Then, as if we needed to support our hypothesis that Miranda was first and foremost a planner, we got our proof this morning.
In an earlier posting, I mentioned that the bus schedule was wrong and we weren't sure where the closest bus stop was, so we've been practicing walking to the second closest bus stop to have the drill down on the first day of school. We knew all along that today we would run into people along the way who knew where that phantom bus stop was, but in the meantime it was all about timing.
Sure enough, as we headed down the street this morning, we came across some girls waiting with their dad for the bus. One of the girls was starting kindergarten, just like Miranda, and we tried to get Miranda to stop and say hello to the girl, but Miranda started flipping out. "But this isn't our bus stop!" she cried.
"Sure it is!" I said. "We were just going to that other bus stop for practice -- remember?"
"But this isn't our stop!" Miranda cried as she launched into a mini-meltdown because we weren't walking an additional quarter mile down the street according to plan. Luckily, we managed to distract her and order was restored to the world. In her defense, she was so excited about starting school today that she got up at 5:45, so we have to cut her some slack.
Anyway, she had a good day today, learned all about rules and manners. I think she will have a good year.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Dress Rehearsal
The school bus just drove by. I guess they are practicing their route before the big day on Wednesday.
We were doing a little practicing ourselves today. Since the Bus Route listing shows our closest bus stop as being a nonexistent address, we practiced going to the second-closest bus stop today just to get our timing down. Up until this point, it has been hard to imagine Miranda ever walking to her bus stop by herself (which is funny, when I consider that I used to walk ten blocks to school in Indianapolis -- by myself -- when I was her age), but Miranda is starting to chomp at the bit for some independence, so I let her pretend she was walking back from the bus stop by herself as Xavier and I trailed along behind her.
After we crossed the first street, we started doing some role playing. "Hey, little girl, can I give you a ride?"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"No!" Xavier echoed.
"Hey, little girl, can you tell me how to get to --"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"No!" Xavier echoed.
"Little girl, I have a puppy in my car," I posited. "Would you like to see it?"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"Well, okay." Xavier conceded.
"Little girl, would you like some candy?"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"Yes!" Xavier shouted.
I see we still need to do a little work on Xavier. Luckily, we still have a couple of years.
My brother and his daughter Chloe came to visit this weekend. My niece is a cherubic child the same age as Xavier, and, like Xavier, she will be starting preschool soon. When Adam's brother Matt was here a couple of weeks ago, the kids insisted on calling him "Uncle Ez" and my nephew Riley "Chloe," and while Ez was here, they insisted on calling Chloe "Riley."
It seems Chloe is more precocious than our kids in some ways ... Ez is very careful what songs he lets her listen to because she picks up on four-letter-words and repeats them, while we've managed to convince our kids that in the Garbage song, "Shut Your Mouth", one of the rifts includes the word "kitload." Admittedly, we are becoming more careful as well. There is something a little disturbing about hearing a five-year-old chant, "Hit me, baby, one more time!" Yes, they are that innocent.
We were doing a little practicing ourselves today. Since the Bus Route listing shows our closest bus stop as being a nonexistent address, we practiced going to the second-closest bus stop today just to get our timing down. Up until this point, it has been hard to imagine Miranda ever walking to her bus stop by herself (which is funny, when I consider that I used to walk ten blocks to school in Indianapolis -- by myself -- when I was her age), but Miranda is starting to chomp at the bit for some independence, so I let her pretend she was walking back from the bus stop by herself as Xavier and I trailed along behind her.
After we crossed the first street, we started doing some role playing. "Hey, little girl, can I give you a ride?"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"No!" Xavier echoed.
"Hey, little girl, can you tell me how to get to --"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"No!" Xavier echoed.
"Little girl, I have a puppy in my car," I posited. "Would you like to see it?"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"Well, okay." Xavier conceded.
"Little girl, would you like some candy?"
"No!" Miranda shouted.
"Yes!" Xavier shouted.
I see we still need to do a little work on Xavier. Luckily, we still have a couple of years.
My brother and his daughter Chloe came to visit this weekend. My niece is a cherubic child the same age as Xavier, and, like Xavier, she will be starting preschool soon. When Adam's brother Matt was here a couple of weeks ago, the kids insisted on calling him "Uncle Ez" and my nephew Riley "Chloe," and while Ez was here, they insisted on calling Chloe "Riley."
It seems Chloe is more precocious than our kids in some ways ... Ez is very careful what songs he lets her listen to because she picks up on four-letter-words and repeats them, while we've managed to convince our kids that in the Garbage song, "Shut Your Mouth", one of the rifts includes the word "kitload." Admittedly, we are becoming more careful as well. There is something a little disturbing about hearing a five-year-old chant, "Hit me, baby, one more time!" Yes, they are that innocent.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
One week and counting
School starts in one week for our intrepid kindergartener and future scientist. There is so much to do ... getting the blue sheet back to school, finding out what her school supplies are, buying said school supplies, finding out what time the bus comes, finding out where the bus comes ... the list goes on. And what is Miranda thinking about?
"Where is my dinosaur alarm clock?" she cries, fusses, moans, has conniptions over every day. Thirty minutes after she is put to bed, she is hyperventilating because that darned alarm clock we ordered online has not arrived yet. "How will I go to school if my alarm clock doesn't get here in time?"
Adam will respond, "Well, honey, I'll wake you up!"
Miranda will groan, "But that's not good enough! I need my clock!"
Well, I did a little research online this evening (in my email box) and discovered that my spam filter had sent notice of cancellation of that order -- item no longer available -- straight to the deleted folder. Groan. Well, it looks like I have one more item on that back-to-school list.
We went to see my parents this weekend, and it ended up being a weekend of a lot of firsts. My first trip with the kids but without the husband. My first (lengthy) trip in a kayak (not counting paddling around in the creek behind my dad's house.) My first thumb blister. My first ride in an ambulance (Xavier's, too!)
Xavier had a really bad attack of croup on Saturday night that we were unable to control, so we called the rescue squad and went to the hospital. He seems to be doing better now, but it sounds like something he may have periodically until he outgrows it. Our pediatrician recommended we put him on Claritan when the steroids the emergency room gave us runs out (this is the first night since the attack that Xav is eligible to win the Tour du France, so wish us luck!) Xavier, in the meantime, could not wait to tell Daddy and Miss Amanda (his teacher at school) about how brave he was in the ambulance.
One more first -- on the way home from the hospital, Xavier saw his first shooting star. I hope that is a good sign!
"Where is my dinosaur alarm clock?" she cries, fusses, moans, has conniptions over every day. Thirty minutes after she is put to bed, she is hyperventilating because that darned alarm clock we ordered online has not arrived yet. "How will I go to school if my alarm clock doesn't get here in time?"
Adam will respond, "Well, honey, I'll wake you up!"
Miranda will groan, "But that's not good enough! I need my clock!"
Well, I did a little research online this evening (in my email box) and discovered that my spam filter had sent notice of cancellation of that order -- item no longer available -- straight to the deleted folder. Groan. Well, it looks like I have one more item on that back-to-school list.
We went to see my parents this weekend, and it ended up being a weekend of a lot of firsts. My first trip with the kids but without the husband. My first (lengthy) trip in a kayak (not counting paddling around in the creek behind my dad's house.) My first thumb blister. My first ride in an ambulance (Xavier's, too!)
Xavier had a really bad attack of croup on Saturday night that we were unable to control, so we called the rescue squad and went to the hospital. He seems to be doing better now, but it sounds like something he may have periodically until he outgrows it. Our pediatrician recommended we put him on Claritan when the steroids the emergency room gave us runs out (this is the first night since the attack that Xav is eligible to win the Tour du France, so wish us luck!) Xavier, in the meantime, could not wait to tell Daddy and Miss Amanda (his teacher at school) about how brave he was in the ambulance.
One more first -- on the way home from the hospital, Xavier saw his first shooting star. I hope that is a good sign!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Cousins
We had Miranda and Xavier's cousins here this weekend. Riley is the same age as Xavier, and Piper is just a baby -- very cute, and very vocal. So vocal, in fact, that even though Xavier was excited to have them come, he pulled me aside and asked, "Mommy, are they going home tomorrow? Piper is really noisy."
One morning, while the kids were playing with play dough, Miranda looked over at the rocket ship that Riley was making and remarked, "Riley, you really like space, don't you?" Riley replied "Yes, I really like space." Miranda said, "I really like dinosaurs."
"And I really like coconuts!" Xavier chimed in, once again proving that he has not picked up the recessive family science gene.
In another exchange, Xavier came in while Riley's dad was helping him use the restroom. Now, Xavier is Korean, while Riley is blond-haired and blue-eyed (evidently another family gene thing.) Xavier has never commented on any difference between their appearances ... until now: "Mine doesn't look like that."
Still, when the end of the weekend was over, Xavier -- who had been a little on the "threatened" side all weekend (clinging to Mommy, pretending to be a baby, not liking having other little people in his domain, although he played relatively well with Riley) -- evidently felt like he had not received enough attention. When Miranda made her Monday morning phone call to Mommy and Xavier got his turn, I said, "Hi, Xavier, how are you doing?"
"I have a problem," he sighed.
"What's your problem, babe?"
Xavier sighed again. "I'm sick."
In the background I heard Adam exclaim, and when it was his turn to talk on the phone, the first thing he said was, "Xavier is not sick. He is fine, he doesn't have a fever -- he just does not want to go to school today."
One morning, while the kids were playing with play dough, Miranda looked over at the rocket ship that Riley was making and remarked, "Riley, you really like space, don't you?" Riley replied "Yes, I really like space." Miranda said, "I really like dinosaurs."
"And I really like coconuts!" Xavier chimed in, once again proving that he has not picked up the recessive family science gene.
In another exchange, Xavier came in while Riley's dad was helping him use the restroom. Now, Xavier is Korean, while Riley is blond-haired and blue-eyed (evidently another family gene thing.) Xavier has never commented on any difference between their appearances ... until now: "Mine doesn't look like that."
Still, when the end of the weekend was over, Xavier -- who had been a little on the "threatened" side all weekend (clinging to Mommy, pretending to be a baby, not liking having other little people in his domain, although he played relatively well with Riley) -- evidently felt like he had not received enough attention. When Miranda made her Monday morning phone call to Mommy and Xavier got his turn, I said, "Hi, Xavier, how are you doing?"
"I have a problem," he sighed.
"What's your problem, babe?"
Xavier sighed again. "I'm sick."
In the background I heard Adam exclaim, and when it was his turn to talk on the phone, the first thing he said was, "Xavier is not sick. He is fine, he doesn't have a fever -- he just does not want to go to school today."
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Interpreter
Xavier and Miranda were eating breakfast the other day, and out of the blue Xavier asked my husband, "Dad, why do you have a hole in your cheek?"
My husband had no idea what my son was talking about. "What, do you mean my mouth?"
"No, the hole in your cheek."
My husband started feeling his cheeks. "Am I bleeding?"
"No, I just want to know about the hole in your cheek."
"What hole, honey?"
"Dad," Miranda said with mild irritation, "He's asking about your mole."
Miranda has not completely outgrown her little mispronunciations, either. A coworker and I decided the other day that all children pronounce "animal" as "aminal" (I even tried testing Miranda on this today, and unless she said it very slowly, it always came out "aminal.") Another favorite word of hers is "mazagine" (for magazine.) Since she was home sick today, we were checking out some movie trailers in case there was something good to see this weekend, and she was especially interested in "Ant Bully", which she kept pronouncing "annolly." This was especially confusing because Aunt Ann (and Uncle Matt, Cousins Riley and Piper) are coming to visit this weekend, and half the time I thought she was asking me a question about her Aunt.
Maybe we can persuade her that we want to see "Cars" instead.
My husband had no idea what my son was talking about. "What, do you mean my mouth?"
"No, the hole in your cheek."
My husband started feeling his cheeks. "Am I bleeding?"
"No, I just want to know about the hole in your cheek."
"What hole, honey?"
"Dad," Miranda said with mild irritation, "He's asking about your mole."
Miranda has not completely outgrown her little mispronunciations, either. A coworker and I decided the other day that all children pronounce "animal" as "aminal" (I even tried testing Miranda on this today, and unless she said it very slowly, it always came out "aminal.") Another favorite word of hers is "mazagine" (for magazine.) Since she was home sick today, we were checking out some movie trailers in case there was something good to see this weekend, and she was especially interested in "Ant Bully", which she kept pronouncing "annolly." This was especially confusing because Aunt Ann (and Uncle Matt, Cousins Riley and Piper) are coming to visit this weekend, and half the time I thought she was asking me a question about her Aunt.
Maybe we can persuade her that we want to see "Cars" instead.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Operator, I'd like to place a call
One of my coworkers has a son who is the same age as Miranda. After a few amusing incidents (like the one where I called my coworker's house and his son gave me his work number, or the time that his son decided to see what would happen if he dialed 911 while his mother was in the shower) it occurred to me that Miranda probably ought to be comfortable using the phone in case there was a real emergency.
With this thought in mind, we started having Miranda call me at work when she got up in the morning. For awhile, this seemed to be going really well, and it didn't take long before she had that number memorized. Then, one Monday morning when I got to work, I saw that I had two messages in my voicemail. I dialed up; the first message was random noise, and I thought, "Hmm, that call sounds like it was placed from my kitchen, but who would have called me from my house over the weekend?" The second message had the same background noise, but this time a little voice said, "I want my Mommy." Of course, I had gone out with friends on Saturday night, and Miranda had been home with the babysitter (which she had been really psyched about, but there must be something about bedtime ...)
Now it occurred to me what the shortcoming was of having her call me at work: if she had an emergency and tried to call me there when I wasn't at work, then she wouldn't reach me. So now the new plan was that she would start calling me on my cell phone.
The problem with this? This is my *emergency* phone, so we pay by the (prepaid) minute. Believe it or not, five-year-old girls can find a lot to talk about, so suddenly I saw my minutes plummeting. To bypass this problem, when she calls me on my cell phone in the morning, she doesn't say hello or anything else, but quickly says, "Mommy, call me back!" and hangs up.
She always sounds so happy when she calls me in the morning.
With this thought in mind, we started having Miranda call me at work when she got up in the morning. For awhile, this seemed to be going really well, and it didn't take long before she had that number memorized. Then, one Monday morning when I got to work, I saw that I had two messages in my voicemail. I dialed up; the first message was random noise, and I thought, "Hmm, that call sounds like it was placed from my kitchen, but who would have called me from my house over the weekend?" The second message had the same background noise, but this time a little voice said, "I want my Mommy." Of course, I had gone out with friends on Saturday night, and Miranda had been home with the babysitter (which she had been really psyched about, but there must be something about bedtime ...)
Now it occurred to me what the shortcoming was of having her call me at work: if she had an emergency and tried to call me there when I wasn't at work, then she wouldn't reach me. So now the new plan was that she would start calling me on my cell phone.
The problem with this? This is my *emergency* phone, so we pay by the (prepaid) minute. Believe it or not, five-year-old girls can find a lot to talk about, so suddenly I saw my minutes plummeting. To bypass this problem, when she calls me on my cell phone in the morning, she doesn't say hello or anything else, but quickly says, "Mommy, call me back!" and hangs up.
She always sounds so happy when she calls me in the morning.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Karate Kid
Miranda is thrilled to have been awarded her second stripe on her white belt in Kempo Karate class. We had been alerted ahead of time that today might be the THE day, so after every routine the instructor put her through, she would look at me with an inquisitive look, a smile and a questioning thumbs up? When I would respond with a thumbs up, she would give me two thumbs up and do a little dance. In some ways, the actual receipt of the stripe was almost anticlimactic.
Xavier? Well, he still doesn't have the attention span to get through the Karate class without mishap, so he was awarded only half a stripe. Still, that's enough that I don't get my belt confused with theirs when I am getting my karate outfit on (I only have one stripe -- surprisingly, the promotion requirements are much more stringent for the adult class.)
Sorry I didn't have time to BLOG last week. Xavier was under the weather, so I had to use my evenings to catch up on work.
Xavier and Miranda and I installed solar pagoda-style lights along our sidewalk over the weekend. It started out well, but by the time we finished, I was kind of surprised the neighbors had not called Social Services. First, Xavier got warm and thirsty enough that he started begging to "sit on your lap." I took him into the house to Adam, but his screams of anger and disappointment were more than audible outside the house. Miranda did a little better, but then when I was trying to dig a hole through rock to set the base for one of the lights, Miranda went lurching by using a couple of the light-posts as crutches; before I could stop her, she (of course) fell and scraped her leg. Final Score: two kids screaming in the house with Dad, one parent outside fuming.
But in the end, the lights look great and the kids are proud of their part in the fias- Oops! I mean "effort".
Xavier? Well, he still doesn't have the attention span to get through the Karate class without mishap, so he was awarded only half a stripe. Still, that's enough that I don't get my belt confused with theirs when I am getting my karate outfit on (I only have one stripe -- surprisingly, the promotion requirements are much more stringent for the adult class.)
Sorry I didn't have time to BLOG last week. Xavier was under the weather, so I had to use my evenings to catch up on work.
Xavier and Miranda and I installed solar pagoda-style lights along our sidewalk over the weekend. It started out well, but by the time we finished, I was kind of surprised the neighbors had not called Social Services. First, Xavier got warm and thirsty enough that he started begging to "sit on your lap." I took him into the house to Adam, but his screams of anger and disappointment were more than audible outside the house. Miranda did a little better, but then when I was trying to dig a hole through rock to set the base for one of the lights, Miranda went lurching by using a couple of the light-posts as crutches; before I could stop her, she (of course) fell and scraped her leg. Final Score: two kids screaming in the house with Dad, one parent outside fuming.
But in the end, the lights look great and the kids are proud of their part in the fias- Oops! I mean "effort".
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Shear Artistry
Where else but in a movie can you have your hair done by a small man with using a sword as an instrument of beauty? Well, and at my house.
Xavier is also starting to rebel against the health food diet my husband lovingly prepares for us. As he offered to "color" my hair "chocolate cherry brown" (Where does he come up with this? I have never colored my hair), he asked me, "Do you like it, Mommy? Does it smell good?" (This pretend dye offered for my approval on the tip of the plastic sword he was using as a comb, curling iron, and "hair washer".) I replied, "Of course, it does." He nodded knowingly, "It is all oil and no fiber!"
Miranda had one of her best friends over for a sleepover Friday night. "Anne" is a hoot. I was getting Anne and Xavier lathered up with sunblock before taking them out to do driveway art (Miranda had run off for her sandles) and Anne suddenly announced, "Xavier, I've decided -- I'm going to marry you someday."
Now, Xavier has proposed to her at least twice that I know of, but his response was, "I'll never marry you!"
Anne showed no sign of consternation or disappointment. Indeed, she replied, "No, Xavier, you don't understand. Once a girl decides she is going to marry you, that's it -- you have to marry her. You have no say in the matter, it's the girl who decides." At least I now know where Miranda gets it.
Xavier is also starting to rebel against the health food diet my husband lovingly prepares for us. As he offered to "color" my hair "chocolate cherry brown" (Where does he come up with this? I have never colored my hair), he asked me, "Do you like it, Mommy? Does it smell good?" (This pretend dye offered for my approval on the tip of the plastic sword he was using as a comb, curling iron, and "hair washer".) I replied, "Of course, it does." He nodded knowingly, "It is all oil and no fiber!"
Miranda had one of her best friends over for a sleepover Friday night. "Anne" is a hoot. I was getting Anne and Xavier lathered up with sunblock before taking them out to do driveway art (Miranda had run off for her sandles) and Anne suddenly announced, "Xavier, I've decided -- I'm going to marry you someday."
Now, Xavier has proposed to her at least twice that I know of, but his response was, "I'll never marry you!"
Anne showed no sign of consternation or disappointment. Indeed, she replied, "No, Xavier, you don't understand. Once a girl decides she is going to marry you, that's it -- you have to marry her. You have no say in the matter, it's the girl who decides." At least I now know where Miranda gets it.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Cookie Anatomy 101
Yesterday, we made cookies that we brought in for Miranda's class today. The problem with making 100% Whole Wheat cookies that you can cut with a cookie cutter is that they end up with the consistency of pie crust and they don't taste a whole lot better. On the bright side, everything is better with frosting.
Anyway, I promised the kids they could have a cookie when they came out of the oven. Some of the more complex cookie shapes -- the dinosaurs, in particular -- had a pretty high mortality rate when I was scraping them off the pan, so I decided the kids could eat the broken cookies. Hey, they taste just as good, right? Or, in this case, just as bad. Did I mention there was frosting? I also had allowed the kids to decorate the cookies with chocolate chips before we put them in the oven, so there was also that mitigating factor.
When Adam got home, the kids were preparing to eat their broken cookies. When Xavier saw Adam, he pointed to the chocolate-chip-laden dinosaur on his plate and said, "Look, Daddy, it's a dinosaur!" Pointing to one of the chocolate chips, he added, "And right here is his eye!"
"I see," Adam replied. Pointing to the other cluster of chocolate chips on the dinosaur, he asked, "And what are these."
Without hesitation, Xavier replied, "Those are his testicles!"
Anyway, I promised the kids they could have a cookie when they came out of the oven. Some of the more complex cookie shapes -- the dinosaurs, in particular -- had a pretty high mortality rate when I was scraping them off the pan, so I decided the kids could eat the broken cookies. Hey, they taste just as good, right? Or, in this case, just as bad. Did I mention there was frosting? I also had allowed the kids to decorate the cookies with chocolate chips before we put them in the oven, so there was also that mitigating factor.
When Adam got home, the kids were preparing to eat their broken cookies. When Xavier saw Adam, he pointed to the chocolate-chip-laden dinosaur on his plate and said, "Look, Daddy, it's a dinosaur!" Pointing to one of the chocolate chips, he added, "And right here is his eye!"
"I see," Adam replied. Pointing to the other cluster of chocolate chips on the dinosaur, he asked, "And what are these."
Without hesitation, Xavier replied, "Those are his testicles!"
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