Doctor and Dentist

Miranda had her five-year doctor's visit and Xavier had his first dental visit today.

Miranda's visit to the doctor went very well. She is 43 inches tall and weighs 38 pounds, which makes her a little taller and a little lighter than average for her age, or, as the doctor put it, perfect. They were impressed by her ability to write her name, and she did very well on the vision and hearing test (in following directions, anyway -- her vision is not perfect, but not bad enough yet to need correction.) In fact, the only serious crying that was done was Xavier throwing a major fit because he was not allowed to accompany Mommy and Miranda to the bathroom to get the urine sample.

We did discuss Miranda's proclivity for panic attacks over irrational things (like turning into a dragon), and the doctor said it sounds like a rather extreme case of the "monster under the bed" syndrome, but probably nothing to worry about at this point in time. Miranda assured the doctor that she would be over it by the end of the month.

Then, in the afternoon, Xavier went to the dentist. He did such a great job and his teeth are in such good shape that the dentist told my husband that Xavier needn't come back for a year. As a reward for such good behavior, Xavier was allowed to select a toy from the "treasure box". He immediately picked out a toy gun.

Now, Adam and I are not big gun fans, being the liberal types that we are, and we have not allowed the kids to have any toy guns. When my husband saw what Xavier had selected, he said, "Oh, Xavier, why don't you pick out something else? We don't like guns at our house."

Xavier gamely picked something else out, but once they were in the van, he asked, "Why don't we like guns?"

"Well, because guns hurt people, Xav."

"Daddy," Xavier said patiently, "This was just a toy. It isn't real. Toy guns can't hurt people."

Rock Star

Miranda has been strutting around the house, making up songs. This is an excerpt from a song she made up today and was singing to her father:

"The ground started to shake
And the dinosaurs said, 'Oh, no, it’s an earthquake!'
But it was a volcano, and it exploded,
And made a lava lake."

She is also starting to think about a future as an author. She told her father about her concept for a story called "Jurassic People Period" about dinosaurs and people living together (she knows they didn't coexist -- she's an expert -- but she likes to pretend.) She added, however, "This is just a story right now -- there's no book or video yet."

Hmmm ... paleontologist? Rock star? Author? Or producer? It's hard to say. It's complicated, being five years old.

Torn Between Two Lovers

Today as I was loading the kids into the car after school, Miranda said, "I love John. I'm going to marry him some day."

"But, Miranda," I teased, "I thought you were going to marry Sam."

"Yeah, I know," Miranda said, "I still like Sam. But John is older, and he understands what five-year-olds are going through. Still, Sam is very nice." (For the record, John is six and Sam is five and a half.)

She hesitated, then added, "Things get complicated when you are five years old."


Xavier is also undergoing age confusion issues. Yesterday, when I was mowing the lawn, it suddenly occurred to me that I had left some money in my pocket. Fearful that my husband might do laundry, I stopped the mower and ran up to the back door, which looks into our dining area. Xavier was sitting there alone, finishing his juice from lunch. I coaxed him to come over and unlock the door, and he finally did, a big smile on his face.

Later, while we were watching a video, the doorbell rang. Enabled by his earlier experience, Xavier leapt to his feet and trotted over to the door, calling, "I'll get it!"

Needless to say, I beat him to the door and said, "Hey, Xav, how about I open the door instead?"

"Okay," he said with a smile.

Questions

My husband often says that when he was told four-year-olds question everything, he wasn't too worried. "Why is the sky blue?" is the hypothetical question most often cited, and he said, "But I know the answer to that one!" I'm not sure he could explain it simply enough for our five-year-old to understand, but that's okay, because she has never asked that question.

Instead, she asks us questions like:

"If I touch this, will I turn into a dragon? Why not?"

"Are there any volcanos in our town? Why not? Are you sure?"

"What does 'reason' mean?"

"Why do children die sometimes?"

"Are there any dinosaurs still alive? Why not? Are you sure?"

"What does 'sucks' mean?"

"What does 'imaginary' mean?"

"What does 'real' mean?"

Actually, definitions are a big part of our lives these days. Still, Miranda came up with a good definition of her own the other day:

"A snake is an animal with a really long neck that ends in a tail."

Quick Learner

Xavier is a sharp little guy.

He has learned pretty quickly that if you can't be celebrating your own birthday, the next best thing in the world is having a sister who just celebrated her birthday and got lots of cool gifts ...

... and who has to go to school in the mornings. :)



In her defense, Miranda has been very good about sharing her toys with her brother.

First comes love ...

Happy Easter!

Miranda's grandmother (Nana) got her a new dress for her birthday. It's a lovely, very fancy, white dress with matching hat and gloves (which Miranda insists upon calling "mittens.") I had already gotten Miranda a nice dress for Easter, so Miranda was torn between wearing her new dress or the one I bought for her, but finally (understandably) she decided on Nana's dress. She consoled me (the loser) by assuring me she would wear "my" dress for her birthday tomorrow.

When we arrived for church this morning before the Easter Egg hunt, a little boy we will call "Sam" opened the door for us as we approached. "Sam" is in Miranda's Sunday School class. She had a crush on him back when she was about two and he was three, when she used to try to kiss him on the cheek in the nursery and he would wave her away. However, time and other boys have since drawn her attention.

Today, however, Sam looked very dapper in a bright blue shirt that set off his blue eyes and blond hair, along with a tie and nice slacks. He only had eyes for Miranda, and as she approached, he said, "Hi, Miranda, you look nice today!"

Miranda stepped close to him and laughed. "We look like we are getting married!"

Sam was evidently charmed by this, and followed her around like a puppy -- until the Easter Egg hunt, when it was every child for him- or herself. Evidently he had repeated Miranda's comment to his mother, because a couple from the church approached me as I was snapping pictures of the Easter Egg hunt and said, "I hear Miranda and Sam are getting married!"

I laughed and said, "Time will tell."

The woman commented, "They did make quite a striking couple back in the Fellowship Hall!" (This is true, and a number of people did take their picture.)

"Ah," I said, "but theirs has been a very rocky relationship so far."

Young love ... of course, Miranda is still a very focused young lady. Much misery was made after Nana and Papoo left this morning, but when Nana made her "safe arrival" call this afternoon and Miranda asked to talk to her, the first thing she said was, "Hi, Nana! Did you find out when the museum will be open?" This is in reference to a Legoland exhibit that is going on at a museum near Nana's house that Nana mentioned at the beginning of her visit ... that girl has a mind like a steel trap ...

... and she has already planned out the agenda for her birthday tomorrow.

Painting Done

This has been a hectic week, what with the painters being here. Who would have thought that having two rooms and a hall painted could be so disruptive? Of course, the hall was the main entryway and the stairs.

Xavier took it upon himself to supervise the painters, and I think they can only be described as "Good Sports." Common refrains heard around the house were, "Mr. Painter, what are you doing?" "Mr. Painter, where is the other Mr. Painter?" "Mr. Painter, this is my Thomas catalog -- we can look at it later." "Mr. Painter, you are in my way!"

Yesterday morning I called the house and asked to speak to the kids. The following dialog illustrates how things have been at our house of late:

Xavier (sadly): "Hi, Mommy. Are you coming home?"

Me: I wish I could, sweetie, but I have to work.

Xavier: Why?

Me: Because I have to work.

Xavier: Why?

Me: I have to --

(muffled sounds in the background; strange voices that have to be the painters; sound of phone being put down or possibly passed off to Adam)

Xavier (distantly): Okay, Bye! (even more distantly) Hi, Mr. Painters! What are we doing today?

He is going to miss them so much.

Spin

Friday, Xavier came down with a little cold -- no fever, just a little runny nose, not at all slowed down. We were invited to an outdoors birthday party, and we went even though the wind was blowing, the bathrooms weren't open yet (a trauma unto itself), and the playground had not been remulched, so it was dusty and -- probably -- moldy. And, of course, Xavier was imperceptibly sick.

Anyway, the kids had a great time, but that evening a thunderstorm swept up with lots of wind, hail, and lightning activity. Miranda was scared at first, but I kept saying, "Wow! Did you see that one? That was beautiful!" And, "Lightning reminds me of Christmas lights!" Xavier started jumping up and down, saying, "Lightning reminds me of fireworks!" And Miranda chimed in, "Thunder reminds me of drums!" And all was going pretty well ... until the power went out.

Even then, I tried to make it sound like an adventure when the kids had to go to bed with no nightlight (I ended up staying with them until Miranda fell asleep -- Xavier is a little braver and was able to carry on on his own.) Reading books with a flashlight was fun.

Still, after a delicious supper of peanut butter and crackers, my husband and I -- who have not quite adjusted to daylight savings time yet -- decided to call it a night around ten o'clock. Just then, we heard a noise at the top of the stairs that sounded like a barking seal: it was Xavier struggling to breathe.

We tried the usual treatment for croup -- hanging out in a steamy bathroom with the shower running -- thank goodness for gas-powered water heaters -- for a quite a while, but with no success. On top of the difficulty breathing, it was clear that Xavier had a tummy ache, and he was quite hysterical; no fever, though. We laid him down on the bed in our room and tried looking at him with the flashlight, but the flashlight has kind of a bluish cast of its own, so we couldn't tell if he was turning blue. We could see the skin sucking in around his ribs, though, and he still sounded like a barking seal, so we called the pediatrician, who said, "Take him into a steamy bathroom and -- oh, that didn't work? Take him to the emergency room, then."

I didn't want to scare Xavier any more than possible, so I asked him, "Xavier, would you like to go on an adventure with Mommy?" Wheezing, he nodded, so we put on his shoes, I loaded him into the back of the Civic (force of habit), Adam forced open the garage door, and we were off.

In the distance, we could see the lightning from another approaching storm, and Xavier kept pointing at it and saying, "Look, Mom -- lightning! It looks like -- wheeze! wheeze! -- Fireworks!" And, "We're on an aventure!" (That was not a mispelling, by the way.)

By the time we got to the hospital, the night air had done what the shower had failed to do -- calmed his wheezing -- but we were there, so I figured I'd better go through with it. It was now eleven o'clock, and in the four hours we were there, I had many the opportunity to rue this decision. Xavier had a grand old time, though -- waving at the teenaged girls, charming the over-fifty set, flirting with the nurses, begging for a drink or candy (refusals did not daunt him much). Even the saline breathing treatment -- which was done with a gas mask that looked like the muzzle of a dragon -- thrilled him ("Look, mommy! I turn into a dragon ... then back into a boy!") Still, around three o'clock, he was tired enough that the novelty was wearing off, so there were no complaints as I loaded him into the back of the Civic -- what was I thinking, bringing our two-door car? -- and headed home to where the power was still out, so I had to feed the cats and put Xavier to bed by flashlight.

The next evening, however, Xavier turned to me as I was putting him to bed, and said, "Mommy, I'm having trouble breathing. I think we need another aventure."

Nice try, kid, but I'd need a REALLY good reason to be hanging out at the hospital at three o'clock in the morning two nights in a row.

Painting

We are getting ready to do some painting. Our house is almost 15 years old, and, as near as I can tell, is still running on the original paint.

Initially we thought we could paint the house ourselves, but having owned the paint for Xavier's room for close to a year, having taped the room once in preparation (and taking down the tape because it was clear we would not get to painting the room before the masking tape became one with the wall), having called in the roof repairman to fix a hole in the roof that was leaking water between Xav's room and the bathroom (no point in painting if it's going to get wet), we realized that we would never have time to paint the whole house and agreed it was time to pay someone to do it.

The paint store recommended a professional, so he came by today and looked things over. My husband commented that he seemed to know what he was doing and made some general observations and suggestions.

Then my husband added, "It's a wonder he got anything done, though, because Xavier kept bringing him things. 'Look! This is my Thomas (the Tank Engine) catalog!' 'Look! This is the Ice Cream Factory station (in the catalog). I don't have it yet, but I hope I get it for my birthday ...'"

Sadly, just the day before, we had had a discussion on how to deal with Strangers.

I also enrolled Miranda in Kindergarten today. I had no idea there was so much paperwork involved. In addition to having to show her birth certificate, her social security card, proof of residency and a notorized document declaring she has never been expelled from school (never mind she is starting KINDERGARTEN and the notory public is not likely to know what kind of deviant behavior Miranda has been involved in) , I also had to read Miranda the school's standards of behavior for Internet and email usage AND HAVE HER SIGN OFF THAT SHE UNDERSTANDS IT. What are they thinking of? She is four years old! I thought we were enrolling her in public school, not the military academy!

Of course, when I asked her if she understood rules, she didn't.

I helped her sign the forms anyway.

Everyone Knows its Windy!

It's pretty windy here tonight, and not long after we had the kids in bed, Miranda was on the landing, crying that she was scared. I went upstairs and lay down in the spare bed in her room -- Xavier is showing self-sufficient tendencies and insisted upon sleeping in his room -- and said, "You don't need to be afraid, sweetie. Remember what I told you about the wind?"

What I've told the kids about the wind -- and the incredible creaking noises that our house makes -- is that the wind is giving the house a massage, and the thumping and creaking is just the house moaning in relief. I don't know if Xavier buys it, but Miranda knows it is complete hogwash. Sometimes she'll play along, but tonight she just gave me a wan smile.

"I'll stay here for five minutes until you calm down," I said, "But, really, if there was anything to be afraid of, I would be up here so fast to get you and Xavier that your little heads would spin."

That seemed to reassure her a little, and she settled back on her bed. I lay on the spare bed trying hard not to fall asleep, pondering the things I needed to get done -- printing party invitations, filling out Miranda's application for kindergarten. Just as I thought she was falling asleep, Miranda piped up, "Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I know you think the wind sounds like it is giving the house a massage, but sometimes, when it rumbles really loudly, it sounds like a dinosaur, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," I replied.

A few minutes later, I left. She was still awake, but already dreaming about her first love, paleontology.