Breaking Things

My children are attempting to see how many consecutive nights one or both of them can wake me up. I'm not sure what the count is up to at this point, but I know I'm not winning.

The past two nights have been tough. Noodle finally persuaded me that if she insists that she needs to be held, she probably is actually in discomfort. So I've held her while dozing on the couch. This is not actually the same as sleep. Sleep gives you a glorious feeling of restedness. Or some similar word I used to know before I was so sleep deprived that I can only manage to whimper when my husband cracks jokes.

Today I brought the kids in to the doctor on a 'just in case' visit. They, and I, have a minor cold, to which I was attributing Noodle's unhappiness. Of course tomorrow we're getting on a plane, so we hit the doctor to make sure they don't have ear infections. (We'll let it remain a mystery whether I have one.)

Sitting and chatting with the doctor, I look down and right in front of my eyes, springs up Noodle's first tooth. I swear. Except I'm sleep deprived and seriously unreliable.

No ear infections. But at least one more burgeoning tooth in there.

Q is beside himself with excitement about the plane trip. He wanted to help me pack, which he did by sitting on the bed and looking at his transportation book and discussing different types of planes and other air transport. He would like to take a plane that lands on a river next time. We also discussed, briefly, tickets, which I realized are a fairly alien concept to a three year old.

He's now snuggled into bed, with visions of airplanes whizzing through his head. May we all rest well. Tomorrow will definitely be another big adventure.

Hard to keep up

Noodle is able to spin in circles on her stomach now. She's once again able to flip over, even both directions, but only when motivated. Otherwise she simply tells us she's ticked off. More importantly, she is absolutely thrilled because she can pull herself up to a standing position, if all the stars are aligned and she's right next to an object that allows her to pull up.

Q is making us blink and try not to make too big a deal about reading. He spelled out "d-o" for J and said "What is d-o? That's on Do Not Enter." The word 'book' is appearing everywhere now they he can sight read it.

Someone's Little Girl

Just said her first word.

Yesterday, after several days of babbling this, Noodle looked at J and said, "da-da."
Then she did it again. And again. Looking him dead on.

Now for those of you skeptics who say that a) she's babbling or b) she's entering the stage where she indiscriminately calls everyone and everything ma-ma and da-da, let me reassure you: I don't care. Her first word is Da-da and she said it yesterday for the first time at just over 8 months.

Snippets

Noodle has graduated to finger foods. Finally given access to cheerios, she scrabbled her fingers around on the tray, trying to pick one up. Finally, she gets one into her fist and crams it in her mouth, fingers flailing. Her hand departs and she looked at us bewildered. The cheerio is cheerfully stuck, perpendicular, on her lip.

She's become a little pro now, happily chasing cheerios and stars around her tray, muttering with effort, then cooing as they hit her mouth. Grandma Sherry pointed out that she hums as she eats, which, once you notice it, is quite amusing. Spoon it in, listen to the hum. Spoon it in, listen to the hum. You can tell when she needs another bite because she starts complaining, "Rah, rah, rah, RAH, RAH, RAH!" Spoon it in. "Hmmmm."

Sadly, the cheerio stage is seriously detrimental for my already weak housekeeping skills. There are cheerios everywhere. Since they stick to clothing (once licked at least), they can be carried like fleas into all corners of the house. Dried and stepped on, they result in tiny piles of cheerio sand. No one pile is that problematic, but the overall situation is out of hand, and unlikely to be addressed anytime soon.

On other fronts: Q relocated his wrench, left outside. Applying it to J's shop door, he declares, "I'm a good doer!"

And so he is. He's happily attempting to reassemble Excavator, taking pleasure in figuring out what part each metal shred once belonged to.

Alas, Poor Yorick

Excavator is Q's best friend, only slightly less beloved than Blankie. Excavator has been missing since November. At first I was convinced that Excavator was simply misplaced, perhaps at Grandma's in a closet. Or hiding under a couch. But as time passed, I became more and and more concerned. Excavator didn't reappear. I scoured the house. I scoured the cars. I asked at Preschool, just in case one of the Rules was broken and Excavator went somewhere other than Home, Cars and Grandma's. Nothing.

This afternoon I was thinking about Excavator again. We'd tried to replace him at Christmas, with the thought that if we did, the original Excavator would reappear. Sadly, Excavator was sold out at all the toy stores around. But today is lovely and we were playing outside. Perhaps Excavator was left in a garden bed with the mulch...

Then I spotted it, a small scrap of yellow metal. I bent down. It was part of toy. A metal construction toy. My eyes widened. More scraps appeared. I felt like I'd discovered a pet, its carcass now worn to the bone and scattered by wild animals. Excavator had been smashed and broken by the large machines used to chop up and rake the autumn leaves.


Q wanted me to post a photo of broken Excavator, but luckily for my aching heart, the camera is broken too.

We will replace Excavator. But I suspect that no replacement will be as beloved.
Good-bye Excavator. We loved you well.

Short and Boasty

Q cracked me up Tuesday. I could practically see the cogs working as he figured things out. He drew a cursive E on the dry erase board and told me it was a 3. I explained that E went the other way, but if he came over to where I was standing (it was on the floor) it *was* a 3. He alternated: “E!” “3!” a few times, then came to the side and said, “What is it from this side?”

I wasn’t paying attention.

“From this side it’s an M!”

I snapped to attention. “You’re right!”

And then he walked to the other side, “What is it from this side?” “What do you think?” “a W!”

He made a happy little hop of confidence and discovery.

I think we're about to see a big leap in abilities.