Sunday, November 16, 2008

Logic for Toddlers

A few months ago we bought some 'Annie's Cinnamon Bunnies'. These are small cookies in the shape of, well, yes, bunnies. Cinnamon flavored. To amuse myself, and Noodle, I moved one in a bouncing pattern, saying, "Hop, hop, hop."

Noodle was delighted and learned the word 'hop'. One of the few vocabulary words that she has bothered to retain after learning. She even bounced her bunny cookie as she said it.

So we returned to conventional animal cookies a few weeks later. Noodle caught my eye and held up her animal. I couldn't identify it. (Low quality animal crackers are a little identity challenged, and they don't taste as good.) She bounced it up and down and grinned at me. "Hop, hop, hop." I found this pretty funny and no doubt egged it on.

Now we have the next logical step.

Q and I made chocolate chip cookies on Saturday. This evening, Noodle got one after dinner. She holds it up and catches my eye. "Hop, hop, hop!"

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Parenting Pop Quiz

Today, in a largely futile attempt to give Noodle a longer nap, I went to the mall with a friend. Noodle, of course, woke up as we left her driveway. Thirty minutes tops. (sigh)

In any case, Q loved the idea because the mall is filled with machines. Shortly after we arrived, he politely asks, "Do you think there's a room that can fit two strollers to bring us up to the other floor?" Evidently he'd forgotten the word 'Elevator'. So we found him an elevator, and four separate reasons to use it.

After our usual twenty minute potty break in the family bathrooms (thank you to the god of malls for that invention), we decide a snack is in order. The Starbucks is located in a sunken area, so we proceed with the strollers towards snack heaven. And then I spot him.


I balked, terror on my face. We haven't discussed Santa much. Q is totally into the concept of Santa. Totally into the idea of Santa coming on Christmas. But we just had a geography lesson yesterday on where Santa lives (Q thought he lived in New York City, which really does seem reasonable), so why would Santa be in a mall?

My friend Cynthia does not realize the extent or reason of my panic. Her only child is Noodle's age. She has yet to navigate this minefield.

So I plunge ahead into the pop quiz. Carpe diem. We stroller down to the Starbucks area, right past where one of the best looking Santas I've ever seen is discussing Christmas with children, monitored by bored photographers.

As we get into line, Q says, in his secretive voice, the one used for special and wonderful things, "Hey, there's a man dressed like Santa over there."

We went over to investigate after eating a snack. The area has a Polar Express theme, but it's not that magical, in my opinion. Q is intrigued by the fake snow on the floor and wants a closer look. But he is absolutely certain that it's not Santa. It's just not. I don't know how he knows.

Here Noodle attempts to sit in Q's lap. She wants him to read to her. I found her trust that he could read to her very endearing. He found it mildly annoying, although also amusing.

Q insisted that we should go outside so I could take photos of them in their winter jackets. Although it was only mildly chilly, I popped them into their coats to see if the hand-me-downs fit. Today Q managed to get into Noodle's jacket, so I guess there might be more room than there appears to be.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

Ridiculously Sweet

Noodle's singing seems to manifest consistently on stairs. J thinks it might be an attempt at 'The Syncopated Clock', which I don't recall. All I come up with is 'Grandfather's Clock', which also might work.

After bedtime last night, I heard her chirping away at her little song, followed by Q singing her lullabies.

His devotion is well paid.

Yesterday she climbed up on the couch, then elaborately tried to climb into his lap for him to read to her. He wasn't sure how to take this, since she was preventing him from looking at his book.

Recently (this past week, actually) Noodle has started allowing me to hold her hand without arguing. (The explanation that if she doesn't hold my hand she'll be carried actually seemed to make an impression.) Today, walking over rough ground, she even asked me to hold her hand, which surprised me. But when Q got close enough, she switched allegiances and begged him to hold her hand. It took a little tutoring to explain how to hold the hand of someone smaller, but we sorted it out. As they set out, she looked up at him with pure delighted adoration.