Q pet Savannah (the cat) as she balanced on the arm of the glider rocker the other day. "Cats snuggle to say I love you." He informs me. "They have to snuggle because they don't have words. But we have words."
I picked up a bunch of jammies for the kids yesterday. I indulged and got Noodle a 3 piece jammie outfit that includes a tutu. Seriously. Much to my bemusement, the jammies she excitedly chose for last night were the 'car jammies'. Girly, but lots of little cars on them. Cracked me up.
They didn't have many summer jammies for boys, so Q's selection was more limited. (I picked up some for next fall.) He chose to wear the hand me downs left by his cousin. Very sweet.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Thursday, July 02, 2009
"When I grow up..."
Driving home from the library today, Q starts a sentence, "Mommy? When I grow up-"
Q's voice drops. Preparing myself for something I might need to pay close attention to, I quickly roll up the windows to listen.
"...when I grow up, I'm going to wear a pencil behind my ear so I'll always have a pencil when I want to draw something."
Thank goodness. "That seems handy."
"Yeah."
I continue driving.
"And mom? When I grow up, I'm going to marry you."
Awww.
"I love you too."
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Birthday Ruminations
One of the ways in which our slacker parenting style comes out is that we'd rather not do high stakes parties with all the preschool friends and outside friends complete with games and party favors and headaches. I'm sure if we were good parents we'd do this. I just can't drum up any enthusiasm for it at all.
What we did instead was an Adventure. Q has been asking to go to New York City for months. It's less than 2 hours away, so it seems like a reasonable request. But we don't have any real reason to go - other than his little heart's desire. So we planned out a day in New York City: Train, subway, Museum of Natural History, Central Park, back again. In some ways it feels so wasteful. There is so much you can do in the city that to keep to so small an itinerary seems a shame. But more than this would overwhelm all three of us.
So Sunday we left Noodle with Grandma and had an Adventure in the city.
All day long his delight warmed my heart. Entering Grand Central Station, he looked up, awed. "Wow. This is beautiful."
He seemed to enjoy the museum and the dinosaurs, but when you can't yet read much and your grasp on evolution is nonexistent, the museum has a hard time holding your attention. After two hours, he was begging to go to Central Park.
Park means something different to Q. Park means 'playground'. He loved climbing the huge rock we found almost immediately outside the museum, but it took us about twenty minutes of walking to get to the playscape.
On the way he waved to park employees in a small electric vehicle. I heard him say, "Hi!" and looked over to see he was greeting pigeons. We passed a long row of benches with people sitting and Q carefully looked in everyone's face. A bald, older black man stared right back at him, then twitched his eyebrows up and down rapidly, keeping his expression deadpan. Q showed no immediate reaction, but when I cracked up, the man twitched at me as well, a corner of his mouth curling up. Another man simply greeted Q, "Hey, how's it going?" and returned to his cell phone call.
It was totally worth the long walk. After running around the castle like structure for a while, we stripped him down to his underwear to run in the fountains.
It was a really lovely, long day.
Last night we had our birthday picnic. Noodle fell in the water while wading, reminding me that I should never leave home without spare diapers and clothes for her. The kids happily played in the water and sand.
I try to remember that I don't have to do it all perfectly. Q doesn't have to get a birthday party. He can have an Adventure and spend the day actually enjoying our attention all day, rather than our stress over hosting a fleet of preschoolers. It's fine to do it differently.
There is a recent study which determined that children under 2 who watch television get far less adult/child interaction and suffer from language deficits. I read this with pangs of guilt for my toddler, who, due to accident of birth, gets far more television than her older brother ever was exposed to. Look! I thought, she's going to be behind in - wait, language development? Never mind.
Sometimes it's hard to remember that the experts are not always talking to me. The teachers at Q's next school who told us that we should read to our kids and take them to the library, they don't know that I'm a librarian and that Q can sound out words.
They might be experts, but they're not experts on my kid.
What we did instead was an Adventure. Q has been asking to go to New York City for months. It's less than 2 hours away, so it seems like a reasonable request. But we don't have any real reason to go - other than his little heart's desire. So we planned out a day in New York City: Train, subway, Museum of Natural History, Central Park, back again. In some ways it feels so wasteful. There is so much you can do in the city that to keep to so small an itinerary seems a shame. But more than this would overwhelm all three of us.
So Sunday we left Noodle with Grandma and had an Adventure in the city.
All day long his delight warmed my heart. Entering Grand Central Station, he looked up, awed. "Wow. This is beautiful."
He seemed to enjoy the museum and the dinosaurs, but when you can't yet read much and your grasp on evolution is nonexistent, the museum has a hard time holding your attention. After two hours, he was begging to go to Central Park.
Park means something different to Q. Park means 'playground'. He loved climbing the huge rock we found almost immediately outside the museum, but it took us about twenty minutes of walking to get to the playscape.
On the way he waved to park employees in a small electric vehicle. I heard him say, "Hi!" and looked over to see he was greeting pigeons. We passed a long row of benches with people sitting and Q carefully looked in everyone's face. A bald, older black man stared right back at him, then twitched his eyebrows up and down rapidly, keeping his expression deadpan. Q showed no immediate reaction, but when I cracked up, the man twitched at me as well, a corner of his mouth curling up. Another man simply greeted Q, "Hey, how's it going?" and returned to his cell phone call.
It was totally worth the long walk. After running around the castle like structure for a while, we stripped him down to his underwear to run in the fountains.
It was a really lovely, long day.
Last night we had our birthday picnic. Noodle fell in the water while wading, reminding me that I should never leave home without spare diapers and clothes for her. The kids happily played in the water and sand.
I try to remember that I don't have to do it all perfectly. Q doesn't have to get a birthday party. He can have an Adventure and spend the day actually enjoying our attention all day, rather than our stress over hosting a fleet of preschoolers. It's fine to do it differently.
There is a recent study which determined that children under 2 who watch television get far less adult/child interaction and suffer from language deficits. I read this with pangs of guilt for my toddler, who, due to accident of birth, gets far more television than her older brother ever was exposed to. Look! I thought, she's going to be behind in - wait, language development? Never mind.
Sometimes it's hard to remember that the experts are not always talking to me. The teachers at Q's next school who told us that we should read to our kids and take them to the library, they don't know that I'm a librarian and that Q can sound out words.
They might be experts, but they're not experts on my kid.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Noodle Conversation
"The log babber gabs logs and puts them in jail!"
(It's unclear whether she said that originally or just started repeating it when Q told her logs don't go to jail.)
(It's unclear whether she said that originally or just started repeating it when Q told her logs don't go to jail.)
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Pollywogs
I've resisted the croc fad. Sandals, especially nice water proof sandals with velcro, are so sturdy and practical for summer, that I felt crocs were redundant. They even seemed impractical. Can you really run and climb in them? There are rumors of crocs trapping feet in escalators. (I've heard the same thing about shoelaces, but that never deterred me. Not to mention that the nearest escalator is probably a 30 minute drive that I rarely make.)
But I've been trying to find some of the sturdy water sandals for Noodle, and I cannot find anything that resembles them. Sandals for toddler girls are flimsy, pretty little things that fall off, trip the kid, and fall apart. Sandals for toddler boys make it clear that it's only the age restriction that prevents this kid from joining the Marines. I just want what we had last year, in a bigger size, and perhaps not black this time. (Those were hand me downs that she loved; they looked just like Q's.)
So I caved. I took the kids to the outlet and managed to direct them away from the brilliant pink crocs long enough for Noodle to spot these. (I believe these are not the 'croc' brand, but called 'pollywogs.') I put them on her and told her to run. I put a pair on Q and told him to match her speed. Hopping, skipping, jumping. They passed the test. And after watching another toddler effectively climb the side of her porch in a pair recently, I'm satisfied they're fine for the playground. I'm still looking for a nice pair of water sandals for Noodle, but I don't feel desperate any more.
...and their obvious enjoyment of the shoes makes me feel my reservations were those of a crank.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Noodle - Sentence of the Day
Upon being put down for a nap:
"Pacifier. At Night. Fall Out. My Mouth. Far Away."
Not quite a haiku.
"Pacifier. At Night. Fall Out. My Mouth. Far Away."
Not quite a haiku.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Quick Catch Up - but not thorough
Lately the kids have been doing so many cool things, and I'm not getting it posted in the blog. I'm going to lose track of the progress they make if I don't document it, and that will make me so sad later.
Mother's Day 2009
Today we went up to Kid City, which is free the 3rd Thursday of the month between 5 and 7. We didn't make it there till 6:30. But the kids had a BLAST.
Wandering into one space, sort of made up to be a fortune teller's room: silver ball, dark, mirrors at all different angles on the wall. Noodle says, unprompted, "That's Fan-cy!" I've no idea how she knew it was the right phrase to apply. Her favorite phrase lately is, "That's si-ee-y!" (silly)
Verbally, I think she's wildly precocious. She used the word 'tangled' the other day to describe a pretzel. Today she used the word 'gobbled' correctly. (That's assuming I understood her, which I think I did.) She uses 'I' and 'me' and 'you' often and in reference to the appropriate person. She also uses the third person to refer to herself ("Baby do it!") and other people ("Mommy help?"), but for a 2 year old, she's way ahead of the game. I'm blown away by her long sentences sometimes. Today's masterpiece: "Q's balloon way way up there."
The verbal competence seems to help a lot with her cooperation. We can get her to tell us most of what she needs, and we try to insist on this instead of whining/crying. We understand most of what she says...
Last night she was crying late at night. I went in and asked what she needed/what was wrong. She usually needs her pacifier, but she actually had it for once. She kept repeating something that sounded close to her "pass-i-fy-er" but not quite.
This morning I finally figured it out. She wanted her pirate shirt.
Q performed in his first concert last weekend. I was really looking forward to him singing. The kids were going to sing, then kazoo, then sing. Unfortunately, the kids had never met the kazoos before, and they were so exciting that some children, including Q, forgot about the singing part and kazoo-ed all three verses.
Coming home, Q asked me if I ever wanted to play an instrument. I told him I took piano lessons when I was little. Then I asked if he wanted to play an instrument. He repeated his musical desire, "I think I want to play the French horn." I don't think I had the foggiest idea what a French horn was when I was 5...
Saturday was busy. In addition to the concert and a birthday party (source of the beautiful face painting), we had the start of some serious septic problems. Which were finally resolved Tuesday with the kind assistance of a helpful and adorable excavator:
Q, of course, was thrilled by the septic guys. He and J hung around while they did the exploratory digging to determine the problem, whispering to J that he'd like to get closer to the actual tools, repeating and summarizing how the plumbing and septic system work. Earlier in the week, he'd helped the plumber at Grandma's house find a leak, trekking up and down stairs following Joe (seriously, he's named Joe) and asking questions. Joe offered him a job at the end of the day. His face lit up with pride.
Mother's Day 2009
Today we went up to Kid City, which is free the 3rd Thursday of the month between 5 and 7. We didn't make it there till 6:30. But the kids had a BLAST.
Wandering into one space, sort of made up to be a fortune teller's room: silver ball, dark, mirrors at all different angles on the wall. Noodle says, unprompted, "That's Fan-cy!" I've no idea how she knew it was the right phrase to apply. Her favorite phrase lately is, "That's si-ee-y!" (silly)
Verbally, I think she's wildly precocious. She used the word 'tangled' the other day to describe a pretzel. Today she used the word 'gobbled' correctly. (That's assuming I understood her, which I think I did.) She uses 'I' and 'me' and 'you' often and in reference to the appropriate person. She also uses the third person to refer to herself ("Baby do it!") and other people ("Mommy help?"), but for a 2 year old, she's way ahead of the game. I'm blown away by her long sentences sometimes. Today's masterpiece: "Q's balloon way way up there."
The verbal competence seems to help a lot with her cooperation. We can get her to tell us most of what she needs, and we try to insist on this instead of whining/crying. We understand most of what she says...
Last night she was crying late at night. I went in and asked what she needed/what was wrong. She usually needs her pacifier, but she actually had it for once. She kept repeating something that sounded close to her "pass-i-fy-er" but not quite.
This morning I finally figured it out. She wanted her pirate shirt.
Q performed in his first concert last weekend. I was really looking forward to him singing. The kids were going to sing, then kazoo, then sing. Unfortunately, the kids had never met the kazoos before, and they were so exciting that some children, including Q, forgot about the singing part and kazoo-ed all three verses.
Coming home, Q asked me if I ever wanted to play an instrument. I told him I took piano lessons when I was little. Then I asked if he wanted to play an instrument. He repeated his musical desire, "I think I want to play the French horn." I don't think I had the foggiest idea what a French horn was when I was 5...
Saturday was busy. In addition to the concert and a birthday party (source of the beautiful face painting), we had the start of some serious septic problems. Which were finally resolved Tuesday with the kind assistance of a helpful and adorable excavator:
Q, of course, was thrilled by the septic guys. He and J hung around while they did the exploratory digging to determine the problem, whispering to J that he'd like to get closer to the actual tools, repeating and summarizing how the plumbing and septic system work. Earlier in the week, he'd helped the plumber at Grandma's house find a leak, trekking up and down stairs following Joe (seriously, he's named Joe) and asking questions. Joe offered him a job at the end of the day. His face lit up with pride.
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