Zuzu: 3.83 yrs old
Bear: 1.72 yrs old
Drop-off was easy. Hubs came too. Zuzu hugged us and kissed us and skipped happily into the classroom.
She was cheerful at pick-up and was excited to tell me that they had had snacks. She described the snack as "circles." Hm.
Bear wasn't as happy to have me to himself as I realized I must have been thinking he would be. He seemed a little lonely without Zuzu. We went to music class--his first music class of the fall, first time without Zuzu, first time in a new building with a new teacher, and he kept making frowny faces and alternating between shy and playful. He didn't cling to me, or seem like he needed to be comforted. He was just trying to figure the place out. Once it gets familiar I think he'll have a great time.
This afternoon I took Zuzu to her first ballet/tap class. Hubs stopped by for part of that, too. I LOVED watching those little ballerinas through the glass. Zuzu seemed to have as much fun as I was sure she would. One of her friends is in the class and they were so giddy together. At one point they put their hands on each other's shoulders and kissed on the lips.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Goodbye traditions
7/31/15
Zuzu: 3.70 yrs old
Bear: 1.59 yrs old
Zuzu takes goodbyes very seriously. She has traditions: hugs are crucial, and often more than one hug is required; and she wants to watch the person leave. She wants to see them climb into the car, see them drive away. If her traditions get skipped, it's difficult for Zuzu to move on. Recently I dropped the kids off for an hour at a learning center. When I picked them up, the teacher told me she noticed Zuzu right after I left, sitting quietly at a table trying to hold back tears. When she asked her what was wrong, Zuzu tearfully told the teacher that she hadn't given me a hug. The teacher didn't say much else about it, but I suspect there was a bit of a meltdown. Another time, we were with friends at a playground, and our friends had to leave, so I said goodbye while Zuzu and Bear kept playing. When Zuzu found out our friends were gone, she wailed to the heavens and ran toward the parking lot hoping to catch them, to say goodbye and give them hugs. But they were long gone. She wept loudly on the way home.
I want to tell Zuzu reassuring things when this happens, like "our friends know you love them," and "we'll see them again soon." But it doesn't help. Zuzu isn't worried that our friends don't know she loves them without a hug. I think she just feels incomplete. I think it's like the feeling I get when I see open parenthesis and the writer forgets the close parenthesis. It's upsetting, and being reassured that the writer did, in fact, complete his or her parenthetical thought despite the lack of close parenthesis wouldn't really placate me. The only thing that would work is either drawing the missing parenthesis with a pen or deciding to just stop thinking about it because it isn't worth going crazy over.
When Zuzu misses part of her goodbye routine, the best thing I can do is draw the close parenthesis with a pen--that is, deliver her goodbye messages via a phone call or text or something, and that brings her peace.
Zuzu: 3.70 yrs old
Bear: 1.59 yrs old
Zuzu takes goodbyes very seriously. She has traditions: hugs are crucial, and often more than one hug is required; and she wants to watch the person leave. She wants to see them climb into the car, see them drive away. If her traditions get skipped, it's difficult for Zuzu to move on. Recently I dropped the kids off for an hour at a learning center. When I picked them up, the teacher told me she noticed Zuzu right after I left, sitting quietly at a table trying to hold back tears. When she asked her what was wrong, Zuzu tearfully told the teacher that she hadn't given me a hug. The teacher didn't say much else about it, but I suspect there was a bit of a meltdown. Another time, we were with friends at a playground, and our friends had to leave, so I said goodbye while Zuzu and Bear kept playing. When Zuzu found out our friends were gone, she wailed to the heavens and ran toward the parking lot hoping to catch them, to say goodbye and give them hugs. But they were long gone. She wept loudly on the way home.
I want to tell Zuzu reassuring things when this happens, like "our friends know you love them," and "we'll see them again soon." But it doesn't help. Zuzu isn't worried that our friends don't know she loves them without a hug. I think she just feels incomplete. I think it's like the feeling I get when I see open parenthesis and the writer forgets the close parenthesis. It's upsetting, and being reassured that the writer did, in fact, complete his or her parenthetical thought despite the lack of close parenthesis wouldn't really placate me. The only thing that would work is either drawing the missing parenthesis with a pen or deciding to just stop thinking about it because it isn't worth going crazy over.
When Zuzu misses part of her goodbye routine, the best thing I can do is draw the close parenthesis with a pen--that is, deliver her goodbye messages via a phone call or text or something, and that brings her peace.
Do: a deer, a female POOP!
Zuzu: 3.83 yrs old
Bear: 1.72 yrs old
This is how we sang that song from Sound of Music.
Do: a deer, a female POOP!
Re: a drop of golden POOP!
Mi: a name I call my POOP!
Fa: a long long way to POOP!
So: a needle pulling POOP!
La: a note to follow POOP!
Te: a drink with jam and POOP!
That will bring us back to POOP!
I not only allowed this, not only encouraged it, but I led the kids in singing it. I mean, Zuzu started it. She's been singing it--the normal version--quite a bit since I taught it to her. She doesn't get it all right but she does her best and it's adorable. We were listening to it on a cd in the car, and when we stopped at the grocery store, Zuzu told me she was going to sing it inside and that people would love to hear it. She was right. People did love to hear her singing it on her way through the grocery store.
But later at night she got the idea of doing a poop version. It made me laugh. Bear pretended he was in on the joke and laughed too. That made me laugh harder, which got Zuzu excited and she kept singing, but since she was getting the words all mixed up I had to help her. And then the kids were enjoying it so much that I began to sing it robustly, shouting the word POOP! right in the kids' faces and laughing heartily after ever single line. Bear loved the POOP! shouting part and joined right in.
The kids loved me for it. They crawled all over me with shining, laughing faces.
The problem with moments like this is that the kids will want to sing the poop song every day for basically eternity, and as of tomorrow I will be so over it.
Bear: 1.72 yrs old
This is how we sang that song from Sound of Music.
Do: a deer, a female POOP!
Re: a drop of golden POOP!
Mi: a name I call my POOP!
Fa: a long long way to POOP!
So: a needle pulling POOP!
La: a note to follow POOP!
Te: a drink with jam and POOP!
That will bring us back to POOP!
I not only allowed this, not only encouraged it, but I led the kids in singing it. I mean, Zuzu started it. She's been singing it--the normal version--quite a bit since I taught it to her. She doesn't get it all right but she does her best and it's adorable. We were listening to it on a cd in the car, and when we stopped at the grocery store, Zuzu told me she was going to sing it inside and that people would love to hear it. She was right. People did love to hear her singing it on her way through the grocery store.
But later at night she got the idea of doing a poop version. It made me laugh. Bear pretended he was in on the joke and laughed too. That made me laugh harder, which got Zuzu excited and she kept singing, but since she was getting the words all mixed up I had to help her. And then the kids were enjoying it so much that I began to sing it robustly, shouting the word POOP! right in the kids' faces and laughing heartily after ever single line. Bear loved the POOP! shouting part and joined right in.
The kids loved me for it. They crawled all over me with shining, laughing faces.
The problem with moments like this is that the kids will want to sing the poop song every day for basically eternity, and as of tomorrow I will be so over it.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Butterflies, ice cream, and head-to-toe mud
Zuzu: 3.68 yrs old
Bear: 1.57 yrs old
The Butterfly House was just what you would imagine, a little piece of fairyland inside a greenhouse. There were instructions posted before you went in, telling you to hurry inside so the winged residents wouldn't escape through the open door, and to keep an eye out for the little creatures underfoot. A gravel path weaved through lush plants with colorful flowers. In one corner a little gurgling fountain ran into a little pond. At first, you didn't see any butterflies. Then you saw one. Then with excitement you spotted a second ... and after you'd been in there a while you saw them everywhere, dozens all at the same time.
A Butterfly Guide was there, just the sort of person you'd want to find in the middle of this tiny Enchanted Forest, a cheerful and absent-minded expert on the subject of butterflies. She kept up a constant chatter, sometimes addressing us and sometimes herself, breaking off frequently to mutter about the bumblebee that kept evading her net or the newly emerged monarchs that were still stretching their wings before they could fly. She told us not to touch the stinging nettles, but said butterflies love them, and some people swear that stinging nettle soup is delicious. She clucked to butterflies the way one would summon a cat, and persuaded them to climb onto her fingers, where they sat folding and unfolding their glorious wings. She helped us to see caterpillar poop on kale leaves. She kept lifting up her baseball cap as she talked, and then pulling it down at a cockeyed angle. Picture Radagast the Brown giving a nature talk.
I think Zuzu was not totally sure what the point was of being there, since we see butterflies in our own backyard. She was quiet, and she looked at the butterflies, and listened to the Butterfly Guide, and smiled at my enthusiasm, but she didn't seem to really connect with it or to understand why we should continue standing there looking at butterflies after we had already seen thirty of them. Bear was in the stroller and seemed interested, but I didn't dare let him down to wander free amongst stinging nettles and fragile wings, so after a while he began to whine and struggle. We left and went to the gift shop, where we got a little butterfly coloring book.
After this we drove just a little further to a Mennonite Country Store. I love shopping at the Country Store, but it isn't close to our house so I hardly every go. As we pulled up I saw a sign announcing that the store was celebrating its twenty-fifth anniversary, and they were grilling free brats and handing out free ice cream. I had brought along Snacks for lunch, but this seemed better. We got in line.
There were a lot of people, and it was hot and muggy. Zuzu opened one of the coolers full of soda, pulled out an ice cube, and colored on the sidewalk with it. People stood in a tent preparing food. Mennonite girls in plain dresses with black socks and black shoes and hair in braids. Women in bonnets. We didn't have to wait long to get our food. As we ate in the shade, a man turned on a big machine that I'd taken for farm equipment. There were two wooden barrels on top with silver canisters inside them. The man dumped ice around the canisters and then covered the ice with salt, and I remembered making ice cream in science class as a kid with coffee cans, using the same method. So I informed my children that the man was making ice cream. But I had no idea how the machine worked, with its spinning wheels and pulleys.
Zuzu ate her brat, and then ice cream. Bear ate ice cream.
We then proceeded into the store. At this point I had a toddler on my hands who hadn't napped yet and had eaten ice cream for lunch and who absolutely did not want to be in the stroller anymore. I set him loose in the grocery aisles. He ran back and forth--literally ran--touching everything, shouting barbaric yawps as he went. To his credit, he heeded my command to touch gently; he didn't pull or knock stuff off the shelves (I mean AFTER that one big bag of oats right at the beginning). But he was running, and he was shouting, and the store was very crowded, and let me tell you, the other customers were not at ease with the situation. Normally my children elicit lots of smiles when we're out and about. Today it was more like fear. And concentration, as folks tried to bypass the hollering toddler zigzagging like a maniac at their feet. We did get a smile from a lady in the checkout lane, but that was after I'd wrestled Bear kicking and screaming back into the stroller, and pushed him around the rest of the store still screaming, drowning out the church music they pipe into the place, until he wore himself out. The lady in the checkout lane looked at Bear, and said, "It's tough to be a little guy, isn't it?" In that moment, I think Bear liked her better than me.
We had parked next to a large field. While I was unstrapping Bear from the stroller, Zuzu frolicked a few feet into the field. This of course made Bear very much want to frolic. I am a fan of field frolicking, so I let him. However, when Zuzu saw that her brother had joined her, she took this to mean that the two of them ought to chase each other the entire length of the field, and she plunged down the slope. At the bottom, she discovered that the grass was soggy with mud. One of her feet sank and mud seeped into her shoe. Now, Zuzu is against The State of Being Dirty, so she retreated. Bear, on the other hand, continued barreling full speed ahead. I tried to stop him, but he skirted my outstretched hands, lumbered a few more steps, and more or less belly-flopped into the puddle of mud.
The mud didn't bother Bear. But he was outraged when I scooped him up and carried him to the car. I buckled in the kids without making a single attempt, before driving away, of cleaning or wiping up a drop of mud. I didn't even touch the mud streaked across my own arm from carrying Bear. Bear's shorts were soaked with it. Mud was on his face and his arms and his legs. When we got home and I opened up the back car door to survey the damage, I reminded myself that I had once heard there was a study which concluded that kids today are too clean. The lengths parents go to to maintain their kids' cleanliness is actually sabotaging their health, I remember hearing. Was there ever such a study? Has it been debunked? Don't tell me. I use that study often to make myself feel better.
Also:
Zuzu in a leotard dancing like a ballerina in the sunroom.
Bear discovering the butterfly picture Zuzu had colored during his nap, which I'd taped up in the sunroom. He shouted his word for butterfly very excitedly over and over. Then he came into the dining room to get me, shouting "Buh-eye! Buh-eye!" and pointing to the sunroom. I asked him to show me and he did--he ran across the room and pointed to the picture on the window.
The kids snuggling on the couch with Daddy at bedtime while he read Bible stories.
Zuzu and Bear snuggling sleepily together, for perhaps the first time since he was a newborn. Zuzu asked if he wanted to snuggle, and he was so sleepy that he didn't mind when Daddy put him across her lap. It lasted a few minutes.
Bear: 1.57 yrs old
The Butterfly House was just what you would imagine, a little piece of fairyland inside a greenhouse. There were instructions posted before you went in, telling you to hurry inside so the winged residents wouldn't escape through the open door, and to keep an eye out for the little creatures underfoot. A gravel path weaved through lush plants with colorful flowers. In one corner a little gurgling fountain ran into a little pond. At first, you didn't see any butterflies. Then you saw one. Then with excitement you spotted a second ... and after you'd been in there a while you saw them everywhere, dozens all at the same time.
A Butterfly Guide was there, just the sort of person you'd want to find in the middle of this tiny Enchanted Forest, a cheerful and absent-minded expert on the subject of butterflies. She kept up a constant chatter, sometimes addressing us and sometimes herself, breaking off frequently to mutter about the bumblebee that kept evading her net or the newly emerged monarchs that were still stretching their wings before they could fly. She told us not to touch the stinging nettles, but said butterflies love them, and some people swear that stinging nettle soup is delicious. She clucked to butterflies the way one would summon a cat, and persuaded them to climb onto her fingers, where they sat folding and unfolding their glorious wings. She helped us to see caterpillar poop on kale leaves. She kept lifting up her baseball cap as she talked, and then pulling it down at a cockeyed angle. Picture Radagast the Brown giving a nature talk.
I think Zuzu was not totally sure what the point was of being there, since we see butterflies in our own backyard. She was quiet, and she looked at the butterflies, and listened to the Butterfly Guide, and smiled at my enthusiasm, but she didn't seem to really connect with it or to understand why we should continue standing there looking at butterflies after we had already seen thirty of them. Bear was in the stroller and seemed interested, but I didn't dare let him down to wander free amongst stinging nettles and fragile wings, so after a while he began to whine and struggle. We left and went to the gift shop, where we got a little butterfly coloring book.
After this we drove just a little further to a Mennonite Country Store. I love shopping at the Country Store, but it isn't close to our house so I hardly every go. As we pulled up I saw a sign announcing that the store was celebrating its twenty-fifth anniversary, and they were grilling free brats and handing out free ice cream. I had brought along Snacks for lunch, but this seemed better. We got in line.
There were a lot of people, and it was hot and muggy. Zuzu opened one of the coolers full of soda, pulled out an ice cube, and colored on the sidewalk with it. People stood in a tent preparing food. Mennonite girls in plain dresses with black socks and black shoes and hair in braids. Women in bonnets. We didn't have to wait long to get our food. As we ate in the shade, a man turned on a big machine that I'd taken for farm equipment. There were two wooden barrels on top with silver canisters inside them. The man dumped ice around the canisters and then covered the ice with salt, and I remembered making ice cream in science class as a kid with coffee cans, using the same method. So I informed my children that the man was making ice cream. But I had no idea how the machine worked, with its spinning wheels and pulleys.
Zuzu ate her brat, and then ice cream. Bear ate ice cream.
We then proceeded into the store. At this point I had a toddler on my hands who hadn't napped yet and had eaten ice cream for lunch and who absolutely did not want to be in the stroller anymore. I set him loose in the grocery aisles. He ran back and forth--literally ran--touching everything, shouting barbaric yawps as he went. To his credit, he heeded my command to touch gently; he didn't pull or knock stuff off the shelves (I mean AFTER that one big bag of oats right at the beginning). But he was running, and he was shouting, and the store was very crowded, and let me tell you, the other customers were not at ease with the situation. Normally my children elicit lots of smiles when we're out and about. Today it was more like fear. And concentration, as folks tried to bypass the hollering toddler zigzagging like a maniac at their feet. We did get a smile from a lady in the checkout lane, but that was after I'd wrestled Bear kicking and screaming back into the stroller, and pushed him around the rest of the store still screaming, drowning out the church music they pipe into the place, until he wore himself out. The lady in the checkout lane looked at Bear, and said, "It's tough to be a little guy, isn't it?" In that moment, I think Bear liked her better than me.
We had parked next to a large field. While I was unstrapping Bear from the stroller, Zuzu frolicked a few feet into the field. This of course made Bear very much want to frolic. I am a fan of field frolicking, so I let him. However, when Zuzu saw that her brother had joined her, she took this to mean that the two of them ought to chase each other the entire length of the field, and she plunged down the slope. At the bottom, she discovered that the grass was soggy with mud. One of her feet sank and mud seeped into her shoe. Now, Zuzu is against The State of Being Dirty, so she retreated. Bear, on the other hand, continued barreling full speed ahead. I tried to stop him, but he skirted my outstretched hands, lumbered a few more steps, and more or less belly-flopped into the puddle of mud.
The mud didn't bother Bear. But he was outraged when I scooped him up and carried him to the car. I buckled in the kids without making a single attempt, before driving away, of cleaning or wiping up a drop of mud. I didn't even touch the mud streaked across my own arm from carrying Bear. Bear's shorts were soaked with it. Mud was on his face and his arms and his legs. When we got home and I opened up the back car door to survey the damage, I reminded myself that I had once heard there was a study which concluded that kids today are too clean. The lengths parents go to to maintain their kids' cleanliness is actually sabotaging their health, I remember hearing. Was there ever such a study? Has it been debunked? Don't tell me. I use that study often to make myself feel better.
Also:
Zuzu in a leotard dancing like a ballerina in the sunroom.
Bear discovering the butterfly picture Zuzu had colored during his nap, which I'd taped up in the sunroom. He shouted his word for butterfly very excitedly over and over. Then he came into the dining room to get me, shouting "Buh-eye! Buh-eye!" and pointing to the sunroom. I asked him to show me and he did--he ran across the room and pointed to the picture on the window.
The kids snuggling on the couch with Daddy at bedtime while he read Bible stories.
Zuzu and Bear snuggling sleepily together, for perhaps the first time since he was a newborn. Zuzu asked if he wanted to snuggle, and he was so sleepy that he didn't mind when Daddy put him across her lap. It lasted a few minutes.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Waddling; goodbye highchair; poop in the tub
Zuzu: 3.67 yrs old
Bear: 1.56 yrs old
It is July 21, exactly one month after the summer solstice, and for the first time I can tell that the days are shorter.
Bear likes to pound his chest like a gorilla.
Zuzu likes to waddle like a penguin. Except she doesn't exactly waddle, she bounces, adorably. I tried to instruct her on what the word "waddle" actually entails, because after enjoying her bouncing version a few times it began to grate at me that she wasn't using the word waddle correctly, and the meaning of words MATTERS! I told her how to waddle. I showed her how to waddle. I confused her. I took the bounce out of her step. I told her to forget everything I'd just said and done and waddle however she wanted.
Zuzu does not yet take instructions well when it comes to learning something challenging. Her attention span is nothing. If she tries the activity and fails, she wants to be done, to do something else. She doesn't yet understand that she can do it, if she would listen, if she would practice ...
Bear hasn't been in his highchair at all the last few days. He was getting strapped into his highchair for every single meal and snack and many art activities, then one day he climbed into one of the regular chairs at the dining room table and I gave him his plate and let him eat, and since then we've been done with the highchair. Because he throws a fit if I try to put him in it. And because I don't mind it this way, either. If he drops his spoon he'll get it himself. And I don't have to wonder as much if he's had enough food. He gets up and down a lot during the meal, but when he's still hungry he always comes back right away to eat more.
One of Zuzu's friends came over to play. The first thing they did was dress-up. Then they sat together in the rocking chair, snuggled side by side, still wearing their princess dresses, and read Bible stories to each other. Each of them had one of the kids Bibles on their lap, and they flipped through, and took turns telling the stories. Zuzu improvised quite a bit on her turns and her friend corrected her on the details.
While on the phone with poison control yesterday (don't ask--everyone's fine), I was watching both kids in the bathtub splashing happily away, when I noticed the water surrounding Bear slowly fill with poop. He's been having soft poops recently. So the poop in the bathtub wasn't a log. It was a cloud of little soft poop bits. Luckily he was sitting closest to the drain, so when I opened the valve the poop cloud moved away from Zuzu. Still on the phone with poison control, I lifted Zuzu out of the tub, to her surprise and displeasure, and spent the next minute trying to clean the tub and Bear and slapping his hand every time he picked up poop. Finally I finished the call, got rid of the poop, put Zuzu back in the tub and started the bath over.
Bear hollers "hi" and "bye" to strangers whenever we're out shopping. Zuzu still likes to greet other shoppers, too, so we get lots of smiles when we're out and about.
Bear: 1.56 yrs old
It is July 21, exactly one month after the summer solstice, and for the first time I can tell that the days are shorter.
Bear likes to pound his chest like a gorilla.
Zuzu likes to waddle like a penguin. Except she doesn't exactly waddle, she bounces, adorably. I tried to instruct her on what the word "waddle" actually entails, because after enjoying her bouncing version a few times it began to grate at me that she wasn't using the word waddle correctly, and the meaning of words MATTERS! I told her how to waddle. I showed her how to waddle. I confused her. I took the bounce out of her step. I told her to forget everything I'd just said and done and waddle however she wanted.
Zuzu does not yet take instructions well when it comes to learning something challenging. Her attention span is nothing. If she tries the activity and fails, she wants to be done, to do something else. She doesn't yet understand that she can do it, if she would listen, if she would practice ...
Bear hasn't been in his highchair at all the last few days. He was getting strapped into his highchair for every single meal and snack and many art activities, then one day he climbed into one of the regular chairs at the dining room table and I gave him his plate and let him eat, and since then we've been done with the highchair. Because he throws a fit if I try to put him in it. And because I don't mind it this way, either. If he drops his spoon he'll get it himself. And I don't have to wonder as much if he's had enough food. He gets up and down a lot during the meal, but when he's still hungry he always comes back right away to eat more.
One of Zuzu's friends came over to play. The first thing they did was dress-up. Then they sat together in the rocking chair, snuggled side by side, still wearing their princess dresses, and read Bible stories to each other. Each of them had one of the kids Bibles on their lap, and they flipped through, and took turns telling the stories. Zuzu improvised quite a bit on her turns and her friend corrected her on the details.
While on the phone with poison control yesterday (don't ask--everyone's fine), I was watching both kids in the bathtub splashing happily away, when I noticed the water surrounding Bear slowly fill with poop. He's been having soft poops recently. So the poop in the bathtub wasn't a log. It was a cloud of little soft poop bits. Luckily he was sitting closest to the drain, so when I opened the valve the poop cloud moved away from Zuzu. Still on the phone with poison control, I lifted Zuzu out of the tub, to her surprise and displeasure, and spent the next minute trying to clean the tub and Bear and slapping his hand every time he picked up poop. Finally I finished the call, got rid of the poop, put Zuzu back in the tub and started the bath over.
Bear hollers "hi" and "bye" to strangers whenever we're out shopping. Zuzu still likes to greet other shoppers, too, so we get lots of smiles when we're out and about.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Mailing a Package and Spitting Milk
Zuzu: 3.67 yrs old
Bear: 1.56 yrs old
Zuzu in the backseat with the package on her lap that we're going to mail to Arizona. There's a toy inside the box. She knows the toy isn't for her, but she played with it before it went in the box, and she's a little sad that it isn't staying with us. She talks to the toy inside the box all the way to the FedEx store. She tells it what's going on outside, since it can't see for itself. She points out the house where one of her friends used to live, and explains that he moved to a different house. She tells it the color of each car that we pass. She shouts out, "there's an American flag!" Then she carries the package into the FedEx store and puts it on the counter. The FedEx lady is really nice. Zuzu tells her about the toy inside the box. Then she says, "Do you want to see what shoes I'm wearing?" So the FedEx lady leans over the counter and Zuzu holds up her foot, clad in a sparkly Princess Belle flip flop. When we leave, Zuzu shouts the name of the toy up to the heavens, not hoping to get the toy back, not expecting it to hear her, but just giving vent to her feelings of missing the toy.
The kids in a friend's backyard, playing in a blow-up pool. Bear is tentative and clingy when I try to put him in the water. He gets over it quickly. The other kids play at the edge of the pool. Bear stands in the middle. He splashes and stomps and cackles and has an immensely good time.
The way Bear looks holding milk in his mouth, looking up at me with mischief all over his face. "Don't spit it out," I warn him sternly. He has been spraying milk out of his mouth for fun. I've told him no, and now he's just trying to provoke me. His eyes are laughing at me. He keeps taking sips of milk and not swallowing until I've glared at him a while. But he doesn't break the rule again ... he just toes the line.
Bear: 1.56 yrs old
Zuzu in the backseat with the package on her lap that we're going to mail to Arizona. There's a toy inside the box. She knows the toy isn't for her, but she played with it before it went in the box, and she's a little sad that it isn't staying with us. She talks to the toy inside the box all the way to the FedEx store. She tells it what's going on outside, since it can't see for itself. She points out the house where one of her friends used to live, and explains that he moved to a different house. She tells it the color of each car that we pass. She shouts out, "there's an American flag!" Then she carries the package into the FedEx store and puts it on the counter. The FedEx lady is really nice. Zuzu tells her about the toy inside the box. Then she says, "Do you want to see what shoes I'm wearing?" So the FedEx lady leans over the counter and Zuzu holds up her foot, clad in a sparkly Princess Belle flip flop. When we leave, Zuzu shouts the name of the toy up to the heavens, not hoping to get the toy back, not expecting it to hear her, but just giving vent to her feelings of missing the toy.
The kids in a friend's backyard, playing in a blow-up pool. Bear is tentative and clingy when I try to put him in the water. He gets over it quickly. The other kids play at the edge of the pool. Bear stands in the middle. He splashes and stomps and cackles and has an immensely good time.
The way Bear looks holding milk in his mouth, looking up at me with mischief all over his face. "Don't spit it out," I warn him sternly. He has been spraying milk out of his mouth for fun. I've told him no, and now he's just trying to provoke me. His eyes are laughing at me. He keeps taking sips of milk and not swallowing until I've glared at him a while. But he doesn't break the rule again ... he just toes the line.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Things we eat; Bear getting his way so often
Zuzu: 3.65 yrs old
Bear: 1.53 yrs old
Zuzu walking hand-in-hand with Daddy, chattering away. Me pushing Bear in the stroller behind them. Zuzu told Daddy that dirt is icky. He asked why. Because we don't eat it. Daddy started listing other things we don't eat that don't qualify as icky. Zuzu, missing the point, began listing things we DO eat. "We only eat cheese, sandwiches, and bread," she said. Daddy and I laughed and questioned her on this. She expanded her list to include bananas, peas, and green beans, and then said that's all that she wanted to say. She was done with that subject of conversation. I keep picturing the way she looked, wearing her Elsa dress, her curly hair in a side bun, holding Daddy's hand and throwing up her other arm to punctuate the items on her food list. Her sweet little arm, her finger pointing in the air as she said "peas." Her bouncy step.
Bear will get his way more often than is good for him. In my household, and beyond. He is, first of all, super cute. He is also extremely insistent. He makes a lot of noise and acts desperate--like sort of crazy--when he wants something. If you give it to him, his whole body goes into spasms of delight. He laughs, his face shines, his arms wave up and down, he kicks his feet. It's very rewarding. If you don't give him what he wants, though, he becomes Unhappy. Heartbroken. He can't understand. He thinks the world is so unfair. There's nothing else he wants. He asked for so little. He won't be able to think about anything else all day. He is personally offended by your cruelty. He weeps. He will not be distracted or pacified. It is much easier to give in to Bear's demands than to hold one's ground.
Zuzu appearing at the foot of our bed at 5:00 a.m., waking us up by saying somewhat loudly, "Mommy, I love you!"
Zuzu and Bear on the couch with Daddy. Standing on the couch, dancing, plopping down with a squeal. Both the kids. Over and over.
Bear sitting on Zuzu's bed flipping through books. He pulls the books off the shelf one by one, and climbs onto her bed to flip through each one, then climbs down again and picks another. He does this until the shelf is empty. This is maybe his favorite thing to do right now.
Bear's way of dancing: stomp stomp stomp! But he gets so gleeful when he dances.
Zuzu. Chattering. Telling stories. Playing. The sweet, sweet sound of her voice.
Bear: 1.53 yrs old
Zuzu walking hand-in-hand with Daddy, chattering away. Me pushing Bear in the stroller behind them. Zuzu told Daddy that dirt is icky. He asked why. Because we don't eat it. Daddy started listing other things we don't eat that don't qualify as icky. Zuzu, missing the point, began listing things we DO eat. "We only eat cheese, sandwiches, and bread," she said. Daddy and I laughed and questioned her on this. She expanded her list to include bananas, peas, and green beans, and then said that's all that she wanted to say. She was done with that subject of conversation. I keep picturing the way she looked, wearing her Elsa dress, her curly hair in a side bun, holding Daddy's hand and throwing up her other arm to punctuate the items on her food list. Her sweet little arm, her finger pointing in the air as she said "peas." Her bouncy step.
Bear will get his way more often than is good for him. In my household, and beyond. He is, first of all, super cute. He is also extremely insistent. He makes a lot of noise and acts desperate--like sort of crazy--when he wants something. If you give it to him, his whole body goes into spasms of delight. He laughs, his face shines, his arms wave up and down, he kicks his feet. It's very rewarding. If you don't give him what he wants, though, he becomes Unhappy. Heartbroken. He can't understand. He thinks the world is so unfair. There's nothing else he wants. He asked for so little. He won't be able to think about anything else all day. He is personally offended by your cruelty. He weeps. He will not be distracted or pacified. It is much easier to give in to Bear's demands than to hold one's ground.
Zuzu appearing at the foot of our bed at 5:00 a.m., waking us up by saying somewhat loudly, "Mommy, I love you!"
Zuzu and Bear on the couch with Daddy. Standing on the couch, dancing, plopping down with a squeal. Both the kids. Over and over.
Bear sitting on Zuzu's bed flipping through books. He pulls the books off the shelf one by one, and climbs onto her bed to flip through each one, then climbs down again and picks another. He does this until the shelf is empty. This is maybe his favorite thing to do right now.
Bear's way of dancing: stomp stomp stomp! But he gets so gleeful when he dances.
Zuzu. Chattering. Telling stories. Playing. The sweet, sweet sound of her voice.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Underwear and Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Zuzu: 3.56 yrs old
Bear: 1.45 yrs old
Zuzu's very good friend, a five-year-old boy, was over for dinner. At the table, Zuzu informed him that she had new princess underwear. He replied that he had ninja turtle underwear. They both seemed to think this was an interesting and serious conversation.
When Bear wants something, he says "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" It started out as a reply to our questions--"Bear, do you want a snack?" "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" etc. But now he does it without being asked anything first. He'll stand by the kitchen counter underneath the snack basket and shout it, or stand by the sunroom door hoping to go outside. When Hubs got home from work today, Bear rushed up to him and hugged his legs, and shouted "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Hubs understood that Bear wanted him to lift Bear upside down, which of course is a thing they do. So Hubs did ... every time he set Bear down, Bear shouted it again. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"
Out shopping ... in the parking lot and in the store, Zuzu asked every person we passed what their name was, and then told them her name, and then said "Nice to meet you!" It made everyone happy. I suppose we should talk more about stranger danger at some point.
Bear: 1.45 yrs old
Zuzu's very good friend, a five-year-old boy, was over for dinner. At the table, Zuzu informed him that she had new princess underwear. He replied that he had ninja turtle underwear. They both seemed to think this was an interesting and serious conversation.
When Bear wants something, he says "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" It started out as a reply to our questions--"Bear, do you want a snack?" "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" etc. But now he does it without being asked anything first. He'll stand by the kitchen counter underneath the snack basket and shout it, or stand by the sunroom door hoping to go outside. When Hubs got home from work today, Bear rushed up to him and hugged his legs, and shouted "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Hubs understood that Bear wanted him to lift Bear upside down, which of course is a thing they do. So Hubs did ... every time he set Bear down, Bear shouted it again. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"
Out shopping ... in the parking lot and in the store, Zuzu asked every person we passed what their name was, and then told them her name, and then said "Nice to meet you!" It made everyone happy. I suppose we should talk more about stranger danger at some point.
Pontoon
Zuzu: 3.55 yrs old
Bear: 1.44 yrs old
The host couple of our small group Bible study generously invited the group to take a ride on their pontoon boat. Hubs couldn't come, and I'd confessed to friends beforehand that I was stressed out about managing both kids on a boat. But my friends entertained Zuzu the whole time. She was delighted to be surrounded by so many nice people. The boat owner keeps spare sunglasses and hats on the boat--Zuzu tried them all on, and received many compliments. Zuzu has a Favorite Adult, one of the small group gals. Favorite Adult always listens and responds to Zuzu earnestly, without condescension. She is endlessly patient and in good humor. Zuzu enjoyed the attention of all the adults, but she liked best to sit next to Favorite Adult and tell her stories.
Bear charged up and down the length of the pontoon a couple of times, with me hovering. Then he and his baby friend became fascinated by a shiny silver knob and took turns pushing on it, and then Bear sat in my lap and gave in to sleepiness, as he hadn't taken an afternoon nap. He became very still and very heavy in my arms. The bulky lifejacket came right up under his chin, but he didn't seem to mind. His eyes drooped to slits, but didn't close. He was still blinking and changing positions now and then. That's how we stayed for most of the time on the water. I wondered--is this what he always does at nap time? Maybe he never sleeps, just sort of zones out? But anyway, it made for quite a carefree boat ride for me.
We had dinner at the couple's beautiful cabin afterwards. My kids chased each other around the house. No one seemed to mind. I wondered if anybody actually minded? Besides Zuzu and Bear there was Bear's baby friend and another baby girl. My kids were the rowdiest. I didn't do much mothering while we were there. Everyone else was so kind and helpful and attentive, and also so laidback. I was thankful.
After the hour-long car ride home Bear was asleep. I scooped him out of his carseat and carried him inside without him stirring. His little body so warm and heavy ... his head on my shoulder ...
Bear: 1.44 yrs old
The host couple of our small group Bible study generously invited the group to take a ride on their pontoon boat. Hubs couldn't come, and I'd confessed to friends beforehand that I was stressed out about managing both kids on a boat. But my friends entertained Zuzu the whole time. She was delighted to be surrounded by so many nice people. The boat owner keeps spare sunglasses and hats on the boat--Zuzu tried them all on, and received many compliments. Zuzu has a Favorite Adult, one of the small group gals. Favorite Adult always listens and responds to Zuzu earnestly, without condescension. She is endlessly patient and in good humor. Zuzu enjoyed the attention of all the adults, but she liked best to sit next to Favorite Adult and tell her stories.
Bear charged up and down the length of the pontoon a couple of times, with me hovering. Then he and his baby friend became fascinated by a shiny silver knob and took turns pushing on it, and then Bear sat in my lap and gave in to sleepiness, as he hadn't taken an afternoon nap. He became very still and very heavy in my arms. The bulky lifejacket came right up under his chin, but he didn't seem to mind. His eyes drooped to slits, but didn't close. He was still blinking and changing positions now and then. That's how we stayed for most of the time on the water. I wondered--is this what he always does at nap time? Maybe he never sleeps, just sort of zones out? But anyway, it made for quite a carefree boat ride for me.
We had dinner at the couple's beautiful cabin afterwards. My kids chased each other around the house. No one seemed to mind. I wondered if anybody actually minded? Besides Zuzu and Bear there was Bear's baby friend and another baby girl. My kids were the rowdiest. I didn't do much mothering while we were there. Everyone else was so kind and helpful and attentive, and also so laidback. I was thankful.
After the hour-long car ride home Bear was asleep. I scooped him out of his carseat and carried him inside without him stirring. His little body so warm and heavy ... his head on my shoulder ...
Friday, June 5, 2015
Concert and peas
Zuzu: 3.55 yrs old
Bear: 1.44 yrs old
Short stocky Bear toddling through the tall grass ... his skin looks so fair and his legs look so fat and he has such a cute round blond head.
Bear and his toddler friend shaking their heads at each other for fun, laughing
The first concert in the park of the summer. It was a beautiful night, tons of people, everyone relaxed, enjoying the good things in life. Zuzu played with the other kids by the band but I stayed with Bear and our stuff. Bear was sleepy. He sat on my lap and stared at dogs and sometimes laughed and pointed at them, and finally he leaned into me and got snuggly, and then Hubs and Zuzu were back and we packed up and went home. It's always lovely to go to the concerts in the park.
Bear feeding me sugar snap peas, taking great pleasure in pushing them into my mouth. I thank him. We keep giggling at each other. He's sitting on my lap on the rocking chair in the sunroom. Between pushing pea pods into my mouth he's tearing them apart and daintily picking out the little peas inside. Half of them he drops accidentally, and the other half he eats. Hubs is grilling salmon and Zuzu is playing in the grass ... we can see her through the window. It's the most relaxed I've been all day.
Zuzu's long side pony tail, all ringlets
The way Zuzu says "olive oil." She likes to dip her bread in it and kept requesting more at dinner, and her pronunciation is so sweet ... I can't think now exactly what it sounds like.
Bear: 1.44 yrs old
Short stocky Bear toddling through the tall grass ... his skin looks so fair and his legs look so fat and he has such a cute round blond head.
Bear and his toddler friend shaking their heads at each other for fun, laughing
The first concert in the park of the summer. It was a beautiful night, tons of people, everyone relaxed, enjoying the good things in life. Zuzu played with the other kids by the band but I stayed with Bear and our stuff. Bear was sleepy. He sat on my lap and stared at dogs and sometimes laughed and pointed at them, and finally he leaned into me and got snuggly, and then Hubs and Zuzu were back and we packed up and went home. It's always lovely to go to the concerts in the park.
Bear feeding me sugar snap peas, taking great pleasure in pushing them into my mouth. I thank him. We keep giggling at each other. He's sitting on my lap on the rocking chair in the sunroom. Between pushing pea pods into my mouth he's tearing them apart and daintily picking out the little peas inside. Half of them he drops accidentally, and the other half he eats. Hubs is grilling salmon and Zuzu is playing in the grass ... we can see her through the window. It's the most relaxed I've been all day.
Zuzu's long side pony tail, all ringlets
The way Zuzu says "olive oil." She likes to dip her bread in it and kept requesting more at dinner, and her pronunciation is so sweet ... I can't think now exactly what it sounds like.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Toddler toy tantrums; cheerful 'good morning'
Zuzu: 3.54 yrs old
Bear: 1.43 yrs old
Bear and his toddler friend playing together ... all's going well until suddenly they're both screaming at each other. They both want the same toy, they both believe the best way to get it is to use brute force, and they are both outraged at each other's behavior!
Normally the kids get themselves up in the morning ... I don't go waking anybody up. But Zuzu was sleeping late and we had to be somewhere. So I went into her room and pulled the window shades. She sat up gracefully, like Cinderella when the birdies wake her up, and said sweetly, "good morning, Mommy!"
Zuzu tried to give me an ultimatum but didn't know how to make me choose what she wanted me to choose. "You can play with me, or stay here by yourself," she told me severely. At the time I think I had to prepare lunch, so I cheerfully opted to stay in the kitchen by myself. Poor little Zuzu.
I'm standing at the bathroom sink and look down to see Bear pulling the shower curtain with one hand and a hanging towel with the other hand to meet in front of him ... he peeks out, I see both his eyes, and an adorable mischievous look on his face. He pulls them away and looks up at me, beaming. Again and again ... now he stands behind the shower curtain ... he leans forward and I can see the shape of his face through the fabric; I can even tell he has the same happy mischievous expression. He pulls it away--so smiley! I think how handsome he is.
Bear: 1.43 yrs old
Bear and his toddler friend playing together ... all's going well until suddenly they're both screaming at each other. They both want the same toy, they both believe the best way to get it is to use brute force, and they are both outraged at each other's behavior!
Normally the kids get themselves up in the morning ... I don't go waking anybody up. But Zuzu was sleeping late and we had to be somewhere. So I went into her room and pulled the window shades. She sat up gracefully, like Cinderella when the birdies wake her up, and said sweetly, "good morning, Mommy!"
Zuzu tried to give me an ultimatum but didn't know how to make me choose what she wanted me to choose. "You can play with me, or stay here by yourself," she told me severely. At the time I think I had to prepare lunch, so I cheerfully opted to stay in the kitchen by myself. Poor little Zuzu.
I'm standing at the bathroom sink and look down to see Bear pulling the shower curtain with one hand and a hanging towel with the other hand to meet in front of him ... he peeks out, I see both his eyes, and an adorable mischievous look on his face. He pulls them away and looks up at me, beaming. Again and again ... now he stands behind the shower curtain ... he leans forward and I can see the shape of his face through the fabric; I can even tell he has the same happy mischievous expression. He pulls it away--so smiley! I think how handsome he is.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Jar Lids and Paper Princesses
Zuzu: 3.54 yrs old
Bear: 1.43 yrs old
Started the day with couch romping. I hate couch romping. Kids are constantly on the brink of terrible injury.
Chocolate pancakes with tons of sliced strawberries. I thought it was breakfast heaven. Bear ate some. Zuzu ate one bite.
The kids and I sat on the kitchen floor and played with the lids of all the glass jars I've collected over the years. I keep the lids in a bottom kitchen drawer with other stuff Bear's allowed to ransack. We nested them, stacked them, sorted them, counted them. Zuzu and I rolled them across the floor lots and lots of times--Bear threw them. We clapped them together, scraped them on the tile, banged on them like itty bitty drums, spun them in circles around our fingers ... the fun lasted so long, for being free.
At Bear's nap time Zuzu asked me if I wanted to play with her paper princesses from Sisi. She loves her paper princesses from Sisi, and they only come out during Bear's nap time when he can't destroy them. I did not particularly want to, as I was still in pajamas and had a million things to do, but we did. The storyline was that the princesses kept tripping whilst dancing and damaging articles of clothing and asking one of the servants to mend everything. This happened about a hundred times and then I told Zuzu I was going to stop playing and get dressed, which made her sulk. That girl has a champion sulk face.
Bear: 1.43 yrs old
Started the day with couch romping. I hate couch romping. Kids are constantly on the brink of terrible injury.
Chocolate pancakes with tons of sliced strawberries. I thought it was breakfast heaven. Bear ate some. Zuzu ate one bite.
The kids and I sat on the kitchen floor and played with the lids of all the glass jars I've collected over the years. I keep the lids in a bottom kitchen drawer with other stuff Bear's allowed to ransack. We nested them, stacked them, sorted them, counted them. Zuzu and I rolled them across the floor lots and lots of times--Bear threw them. We clapped them together, scraped them on the tile, banged on them like itty bitty drums, spun them in circles around our fingers ... the fun lasted so long, for being free.
At Bear's nap time Zuzu asked me if I wanted to play with her paper princesses from Sisi. She loves her paper princesses from Sisi, and they only come out during Bear's nap time when he can't destroy them. I did not particularly want to, as I was still in pajamas and had a million things to do, but we did. The storyline was that the princesses kept tripping whilst dancing and damaging articles of clothing and asking one of the servants to mend everything. This happened about a hundred times and then I told Zuzu I was going to stop playing and get dressed, which made her sulk. That girl has a champion sulk face.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Toothbrushing peek-a-boo
Zuzu: 3.54 yrs old
Bear: 1.42 yrs old
Bear is so happy I'm on the floor with him. He's so happy he gets to climb all over me, take a few steps away, hurtle back into a hug. Why don't I sit on the floor always? he wonders. I tickle his fat legs. He laughs heartily. When I stop he grabs my hands and tries to make me tickle him again.
Toothbrushing time ... kids and me hanging out in the bathroom. Bear wants to hold his own toothbrush. I try to take it and this makes him Unhappy. I cover my tired eyes with my fingertips, massage my eyebrows for a second, and sense Bear coming up to me, curious, maybe a little concerned? I pop my head up playfully and shout "peek-a-boo!" Bear erupts into laughter. We continue the game to get everybody in a good mood again. Zuzu joins in. Bear pulls Zuzu's hands off her eyes and shouts laughter into her face. Zuzu loves it when he laughs at her.
Zuzu comes up close to ask me a question ... she has an earnest look on her face and she climbs into my lap and for a moment I take it all in, her rosy cheeks and sweet little mouth and honey-gold ringlets floating round her face, her big eyes, her energy and imagination and playfulness and happiness and optimism ... little Zuzu, how good it is to have you near! I don't remember what her question was, that made her climb into my lap. It was probably something about mermaids, or fairies, or princesses ...
She dressed like a ballerina again today. She has three sets of leotards, tutus, and tights, and when they're clean, she wears them in order. She doesn't take dance classes yet, but she moves like a dancer, like a graceful little pixie.
Bear moves like a drunk, pigeon-toed linebacker.
Bear: 1.42 yrs old
Bear is so happy I'm on the floor with him. He's so happy he gets to climb all over me, take a few steps away, hurtle back into a hug. Why don't I sit on the floor always? he wonders. I tickle his fat legs. He laughs heartily. When I stop he grabs my hands and tries to make me tickle him again.
Toothbrushing time ... kids and me hanging out in the bathroom. Bear wants to hold his own toothbrush. I try to take it and this makes him Unhappy. I cover my tired eyes with my fingertips, massage my eyebrows for a second, and sense Bear coming up to me, curious, maybe a little concerned? I pop my head up playfully and shout "peek-a-boo!" Bear erupts into laughter. We continue the game to get everybody in a good mood again. Zuzu joins in. Bear pulls Zuzu's hands off her eyes and shouts laughter into her face. Zuzu loves it when he laughs at her.
Zuzu comes up close to ask me a question ... she has an earnest look on her face and she climbs into my lap and for a moment I take it all in, her rosy cheeks and sweet little mouth and honey-gold ringlets floating round her face, her big eyes, her energy and imagination and playfulness and happiness and optimism ... little Zuzu, how good it is to have you near! I don't remember what her question was, that made her climb into my lap. It was probably something about mermaids, or fairies, or princesses ...
She dressed like a ballerina again today. She has three sets of leotards, tutus, and tights, and when they're clean, she wears them in order. She doesn't take dance classes yet, but she moves like a dancer, like a graceful little pixie.
Bear moves like a drunk, pigeon-toed linebacker.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Romping Safe Zone
Zuzu: 3.52 yrs old
Bear: 1.41 yrs old
Bear loves physical play, chasing and being chased, romping. But I discovered early on that my part in all the hoo-ha was to be his Safe Zone. He prefers for me to be present but stationary, with my lap easily accessible, for him to climb into to escape pursuers, and then immediately to climb out of to continue the game. If I move, or join in as a participant, he becomes Unhappy.
Today Zuzu was chasing him around the dining room table and both of them were having fun, when her eye caught her sticker book on the table, and she climbed into a chair to work on it. Bear, oblivious, continued charging around the dining room, thundering on his short legs and cackling like the maniac he is. Zuzu didn't want to disappoint him, I suppose, so she said, "Mommy, can you please chase Bear." So I did. For a second he was delighted, and sped away from me with renewed speed. And then he stopped with a stressed-out look on his face, and came towards me saying "Mama! Mama!" plaintively. I sat and let him climb into my lap. Then he got up and charged away, so I chased him. Again he cackled and ran, and again he stopped and came to me calling "Mama! Mama!" with the same stressed-out look. Again I hugged him. We did it over and over, with me constantly switching between the roles of pursuer and comforter. I thought it was hilarious.
Bear: 1.41 yrs old
Bear loves physical play, chasing and being chased, romping. But I discovered early on that my part in all the hoo-ha was to be his Safe Zone. He prefers for me to be present but stationary, with my lap easily accessible, for him to climb into to escape pursuers, and then immediately to climb out of to continue the game. If I move, or join in as a participant, he becomes Unhappy.
Today Zuzu was chasing him around the dining room table and both of them were having fun, when her eye caught her sticker book on the table, and she climbed into a chair to work on it. Bear, oblivious, continued charging around the dining room, thundering on his short legs and cackling like the maniac he is. Zuzu didn't want to disappoint him, I suppose, so she said, "Mommy, can you please chase Bear." So I did. For a second he was delighted, and sped away from me with renewed speed. And then he stopped with a stressed-out look on his face, and came towards me saying "Mama! Mama!" plaintively. I sat and let him climb into my lap. Then he got up and charged away, so I chased him. Again he cackled and ran, and again he stopped and came to me calling "Mama! Mama!" with the same stressed-out look. Again I hugged him. We did it over and over, with me constantly switching between the roles of pursuer and comforter. I thought it was hilarious.
Friends and garage sale
Zuzu: 3.53 yrs old
Bear: 1.42 yrs old
My friend's quick and beautiful and loving smile, her generous laugh--her every look and word and posture seem designed to say "I love you. I think you're great. I'm happy to be with you." No wonder I ADORE having this girl around, right? Her baby's beautiful eyes. Beautiful, deep eyes. She is gorgeous. And cozy in one's arms. The husband, who is also my friend, is kind, and logical. In everything he does. Always, both. Kind and logical. They stayed the weekend. We sat around and talked and talked, and laughed and enjoyed each other, and ate the amazing food Hubs cooked.
Garage sale Saturday morning. It was our first. It was cloudy and chilly. We wore sweatshirts and shivered. It was very exciting every time someone bought something. I tried to hide my relief at seeing our stuff get loaded into other people's cars. And they paid US! I still feel elated about it. I made Zuzu drag Bear around in a wagon with a cardboard sign that read "Kid brother for sale." I thought it was adorable. At one point Zuzu sat in the seller's chair and wanted us to pretend to buy things. My friend was the only one who played along ... I caught bits and pieces ... they were discussing the sale of cats and dogs ... I believe the dog was two dollars and the cat was green. Zuzu was in her whale pajamas and looked beautiful. She greeted customers cheerfully and tried to make friends with any kids who came along. Bear kept climbing into the wagon (at the risk of being sold) and getting stuck there and crying, not being able to climb out again. He also kept charging around to the backyard where I couldn't keep an eye on him, and getting very mad at me when I carried him back. My friend's baby was dressed warm except she had no socks ... and her feet were too little for Bear's socks, though we ought to have tried. She did not complain, but they finally brought her inside. Hubs stuck it out in the seller's chair until noon or so, long after I'd come inside to put Bear down for a nap and cook bacon since we were all starving.
One of Bear's newest words is "baby." Whenever he heard my friend's baby cry, he'd sort of shout "baby! baby! baby!" Bear does that, when people aren't in the room and he thinks they should be.
Bear: 1.42 yrs old
My friend's quick and beautiful and loving smile, her generous laugh--her every look and word and posture seem designed to say "I love you. I think you're great. I'm happy to be with you." No wonder I ADORE having this girl around, right? Her baby's beautiful eyes. Beautiful, deep eyes. She is gorgeous. And cozy in one's arms. The husband, who is also my friend, is kind, and logical. In everything he does. Always, both. Kind and logical. They stayed the weekend. We sat around and talked and talked, and laughed and enjoyed each other, and ate the amazing food Hubs cooked.
Garage sale Saturday morning. It was our first. It was cloudy and chilly. We wore sweatshirts and shivered. It was very exciting every time someone bought something. I tried to hide my relief at seeing our stuff get loaded into other people's cars. And they paid US! I still feel elated about it. I made Zuzu drag Bear around in a wagon with a cardboard sign that read "Kid brother for sale." I thought it was adorable. At one point Zuzu sat in the seller's chair and wanted us to pretend to buy things. My friend was the only one who played along ... I caught bits and pieces ... they were discussing the sale of cats and dogs ... I believe the dog was two dollars and the cat was green. Zuzu was in her whale pajamas and looked beautiful. She greeted customers cheerfully and tried to make friends with any kids who came along. Bear kept climbing into the wagon (at the risk of being sold) and getting stuck there and crying, not being able to climb out again. He also kept charging around to the backyard where I couldn't keep an eye on him, and getting very mad at me when I carried him back. My friend's baby was dressed warm except she had no socks ... and her feet were too little for Bear's socks, though we ought to have tried. She did not complain, but they finally brought her inside. Hubs stuck it out in the seller's chair until noon or so, long after I'd come inside to put Bear down for a nap and cook bacon since we were all starving.
One of Bear's newest words is "baby." Whenever he heard my friend's baby cry, he'd sort of shout "baby! baby! baby!" Bear does that, when people aren't in the room and he thinks they should be.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Chocolate and Light Bulbs
Zuzu: 3.50 yrs old
Bear: 1.39 yrs old
There are days when I find it so easy to do laundry. Lots of laundry! And I think, I'm never going to get behind on laundry again! I'll do one or two loads every day, forever! I have days like that ... maybe three of them per year. Today was not one.
I ate a lot of chocolate today. It was one of those days where I kept thinking about chocolate.
At the grocery store tonight with the kids, I was delighted to find that they had the light bulbs we needed. I put four packages of various bulbs in my cart. Zuzu wanted to put the light bulbs in HER cart. She was pushing one of those cute little kid carts. I said sure, and picked them up again--"but," I said, "you must be so careful with them--don't throw them into your cart, just set them down gently." I knew this wouldn't be a problem for her. I held them out. And then the next little series of events all happened in a moment: Bear, who was sitting in the front of my cart, twisted around to reach behind him where the light bulbs were in my hand, snatched a package, and immediately threw it onto the floor. One of the bulbs completely shattered inside the package. I put a hand on my forehead and said out loud, "I can't believe that just happened." Zuzu threw her head back and cried out, "Ohhhhhhh! I should have catched them!" I hastened to tell her it wasn't her fault, it was my fault. So then she said brightly, "Oh, I forgive you Mommy!" I thanked her, and hugged her, and heard her say softly that when we got home, she would find some of her dolls to give me to make me happy.
Bear: 1.39 yrs old
There are days when I find it so easy to do laundry. Lots of laundry! And I think, I'm never going to get behind on laundry again! I'll do one or two loads every day, forever! I have days like that ... maybe three of them per year. Today was not one.
I ate a lot of chocolate today. It was one of those days where I kept thinking about chocolate.
At the grocery store tonight with the kids, I was delighted to find that they had the light bulbs we needed. I put four packages of various bulbs in my cart. Zuzu wanted to put the light bulbs in HER cart. She was pushing one of those cute little kid carts. I said sure, and picked them up again--"but," I said, "you must be so careful with them--don't throw them into your cart, just set them down gently." I knew this wouldn't be a problem for her. I held them out. And then the next little series of events all happened in a moment: Bear, who was sitting in the front of my cart, twisted around to reach behind him where the light bulbs were in my hand, snatched a package, and immediately threw it onto the floor. One of the bulbs completely shattered inside the package. I put a hand on my forehead and said out loud, "I can't believe that just happened." Zuzu threw her head back and cried out, "Ohhhhhhh! I should have catched them!" I hastened to tell her it wasn't her fault, it was my fault. So then she said brightly, "Oh, I forgive you Mommy!" I thanked her, and hugged her, and heard her say softly that when we got home, she would find some of her dolls to give me to make me happy.
Monday, May 18, 2015
Butts and Goodnight Kisses
Zuzu: 3.50 yrs old
Bear: 1.39 yrs old
This morning, Zuzu came in whining because her little baby doll didn't have any toes. This baby doll does actually have toes, but her head was turned all the way around to face the back, so the toes were pointing the opposite way and this distressed Zuzu. I took off the doll's dress to show her. "See? There's her butt," I said, and turned the head around to face front. Zuzu chortled. For the next minute she ran around crying "butt!" over and over again and laughing.
I was putting Bear to bed, and Zuzu gave him a goodnight kiss as usual. We looked around for Daddy and realized he was downstairs. I decided to put Bear to bed without a kiss from Daddy. I didn't realize as I did so that Zuzu was going downstairs to fetch him. They came up just as I was coming out of Bear's room. When Zuzu saw me without Bear, she burst into tears. Actual tears! Because Daddy hadn't kissed Bear! I scooped her up and told her she was wonderful, and Daddy promptly went into Bear's room and kissed him. This made Zuzu feel better, but confused Bear, who had a hard time going to sleep afterward.
After the goodnight kiss from Daddy, Bear had several bouts of crying. Mostly he'd get quiet on his own and then start up again a few minutes later. But at one point his cries took on the sound of ultimate suffering such as Westley experienced in the Pit of Despair. Great throaty screams. Loud and full of the tragedy of loss. And then, a series of sweet little "uh-oh!"s. I knew without a doubt what had happened: his Nuk was on the floor. I walked in; he was standing up in the crib. I knew he'd be right above where he'd dropped it, as close as possible to it, marking the spot for me; I reached down and found it immediately without a light. He sucked on it hungrily when it was back in his mouth, and when I lay him down he was sleepy and content. We haven't heard a peep from him since.
Bear: 1.39 yrs old
This morning, Zuzu came in whining because her little baby doll didn't have any toes. This baby doll does actually have toes, but her head was turned all the way around to face the back, so the toes were pointing the opposite way and this distressed Zuzu. I took off the doll's dress to show her. "See? There's her butt," I said, and turned the head around to face front. Zuzu chortled. For the next minute she ran around crying "butt!" over and over again and laughing.
I was putting Bear to bed, and Zuzu gave him a goodnight kiss as usual. We looked around for Daddy and realized he was downstairs. I decided to put Bear to bed without a kiss from Daddy. I didn't realize as I did so that Zuzu was going downstairs to fetch him. They came up just as I was coming out of Bear's room. When Zuzu saw me without Bear, she burst into tears. Actual tears! Because Daddy hadn't kissed Bear! I scooped her up and told her she was wonderful, and Daddy promptly went into Bear's room and kissed him. This made Zuzu feel better, but confused Bear, who had a hard time going to sleep afterward.
After the goodnight kiss from Daddy, Bear had several bouts of crying. Mostly he'd get quiet on his own and then start up again a few minutes later. But at one point his cries took on the sound of ultimate suffering such as Westley experienced in the Pit of Despair. Great throaty screams. Loud and full of the tragedy of loss. And then, a series of sweet little "uh-oh!"s. I knew without a doubt what had happened: his Nuk was on the floor. I walked in; he was standing up in the crib. I knew he'd be right above where he'd dropped it, as close as possible to it, marking the spot for me; I reached down and found it immediately without a light. He sucked on it hungrily when it was back in his mouth, and when I lay him down he was sleepy and content. We haven't heard a peep from him since.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
If you need me, come get me
Zuzu has always been an excellent sleeper. A phenomenal sleeper. As good a sleeper as a child could be. When we replaced the side of her crib with a guard rail so she could get out of bed herself, she still didn't get out of bed until she'd slept eleven hours.
Then one morning she got up, and I was still in bed. So she came into our bedroom. And found out that Bear was in bed with us. Because he'd woken up too early and I brought him into bed for more sleep and snuggles.
So now in the middle of the night she comes into our room and asks to get into bed with us. She also comes in to ask me to fix her blankets. She also gets up before falling asleep just because she wanted to say goodnight again. She has discovered that she can get up, in other words.
Tonight when I was tucking her in, I told her to stay in bed. I stroked her hair and said, "If you need me, I'm happy to help you, but stay in bed if you can." She looked at me seriously and said if she needed me she would come get me. I nodded at her lovingly, because she's such a good child that I was afraid if I gave her strict bed rules she'd refuse to get up even when she really did need us. I put my face close to her sweet, beautiful, pink face. And then she reached up her hand and began to stroke my hair. "If you need me," she told me in a dear little tender voice, "you can get out of bed, and come to my room, and tell me that you need me." I was enraptured. "That's good to know," I said. She continued, still stroking my hair: "If Daddy's in your way [in bed], you can come tell me, and I will say, 'Daddy, could you please scooch over, you're in Mommy's way.' And he will say yes." Then she repeated another couple times that if I needed her I was to come get her. She was most sincere and most kind. My heart was so full of love for that little three-year-old girl as I left her room.
Daddy and I chuckled at the idea of taking her up on the offer.
Then one morning she got up, and I was still in bed. So she came into our bedroom. And found out that Bear was in bed with us. Because he'd woken up too early and I brought him into bed for more sleep and snuggles.
So now in the middle of the night she comes into our room and asks to get into bed with us. She also comes in to ask me to fix her blankets. She also gets up before falling asleep just because she wanted to say goodnight again. She has discovered that she can get up, in other words.
Tonight when I was tucking her in, I told her to stay in bed. I stroked her hair and said, "If you need me, I'm happy to help you, but stay in bed if you can." She looked at me seriously and said if she needed me she would come get me. I nodded at her lovingly, because she's such a good child that I was afraid if I gave her strict bed rules she'd refuse to get up even when she really did need us. I put my face close to her sweet, beautiful, pink face. And then she reached up her hand and began to stroke my hair. "If you need me," she told me in a dear little tender voice, "you can get out of bed, and come to my room, and tell me that you need me." I was enraptured. "That's good to know," I said. She continued, still stroking my hair: "If Daddy's in your way [in bed], you can come tell me, and I will say, 'Daddy, could you please scooch over, you're in Mommy's way.' And he will say yes." Then she repeated another couple times that if I needed her I was to come get her. She was most sincere and most kind. My heart was so full of love for that little three-year-old girl as I left her room.
Daddy and I chuckled at the idea of taking her up on the offer.
Bear at 16 months
Bear is a toddler now, but oh ... I can still call him a baby a little longer. He's still so fat, so soft, so blond, so happy--except when he's terribly upset. He alternates between happy and distraught often and abruptly. He's so cute. I threaten to eat him all the time. Once I told him I was going to sneak into his room during the night to gobble him up. What a creepy thing to say.
He loves opening and closing doors, going in and out, putting things into other things, and climbing. He still LOVES roughhousing. He still wants everything. He is shocked and heartbroken when things are taken away from him. He still--still--puts everything into his mouth. He has eaten dirt so many times.
He gives lots of hugs and high-fives, blows kisses and laughs heartily at the slightest encouragement. He loves chasing Zuzu around the dining room table. He hates it when she squeezes him, puts blankets over his head, or tries to drag him around. He will not hold hands with anybody.
He understands lots of phrases. "Let's go outside," "Time to eat," etc. He's at a fun stage of language development where he's saying new words often. Some of his words are crystal clear, like "daddy," and others are not--Zuzu's name, for instance, he exclaims very excitedly when she walks into a room, but he pronounces it without the consonants.
He loves opening and closing doors, going in and out, putting things into other things, and climbing. He still LOVES roughhousing. He still wants everything. He is shocked and heartbroken when things are taken away from him. He still--still--puts everything into his mouth. He has eaten dirt so many times.
He gives lots of hugs and high-fives, blows kisses and laughs heartily at the slightest encouragement. He loves chasing Zuzu around the dining room table. He hates it when she squeezes him, puts blankets over his head, or tries to drag him around. He will not hold hands with anybody.
He understands lots of phrases. "Let's go outside," "Time to eat," etc. He's at a fun stage of language development where he's saying new words often. Some of his words are crystal clear, like "daddy," and others are not--Zuzu's name, for instance, he exclaims very excitedly when she walks into a room, but he pronounces it without the consonants.
Spring in Wisconsin
Cloudy, breezy days that you don't know whether to call warm or cool, lilacs in full bloom, everything green
Muggy sunshine, curls around my daughter's face, sweating, pulling weeds, turning up worms, the soft ground giving under my feet and hands, the smell of cut grass, the smell of which of these bushes or trees with branches still dark from the rain?, the smell of dirt, the smell of pine, the smell of lilacs, gnats flying at my eyes
A hillside of light, shy green new leaves all mixed with dark blotches of evergreens
Sunlight shining through leaves. Green is everywhere, God saying, here I AM!
Sky blue like Poseidon's eyes, blue like you haven't seen since last summer, dazzlingly white clouds so big they make you realize how big the sky is that it can hold them all!
Sunshine--sudden clouds, sudden cold, dark, wind, thunder, rain--sunshine
Tree roots breaking the sidewalks, lines of anthills in the cracks, puddles from sprinklers
It's all summer one day, heat and blisters and tan lines and bugs and extra baths, and winter again the next day, sweatshirts and socks and apple pancakes.
I love Wisconsin.
Muggy sunshine, curls around my daughter's face, sweating, pulling weeds, turning up worms, the soft ground giving under my feet and hands, the smell of cut grass, the smell of which of these bushes or trees with branches still dark from the rain?, the smell of dirt, the smell of pine, the smell of lilacs, gnats flying at my eyes
A hillside of light, shy green new leaves all mixed with dark blotches of evergreens
Sunlight shining through leaves. Green is everywhere, God saying, here I AM!
Sky blue like Poseidon's eyes, blue like you haven't seen since last summer, dazzlingly white clouds so big they make you realize how big the sky is that it can hold them all!
Sunshine--sudden clouds, sudden cold, dark, wind, thunder, rain--sunshine
Tree roots breaking the sidewalks, lines of anthills in the cracks, puddles from sprinklers
It's all summer one day, heat and blisters and tan lines and bugs and extra baths, and winter again the next day, sweatshirts and socks and apple pancakes.
I love Wisconsin.
Monday, March 16, 2015
the Sweeties
Zuzu has imaginary daughters called the Sweeties. I don't remember when the Sweeties first turned up ... sometime last summer I think. I've never been able to tell how many of them there are, exactly, but probably Zuzu doesn't quite keep track herself. I've asked her how many Sweeties there are, but since numbers aren't really her thing yet, she doesn't like to answer. The Sweeties used to follow us around quite a bit and do the things we do. Often Anders and I would be about to sit next to Zuzu on the couch, and she'd cry out to us not to sit on her Sweeties! They would be required to hold Zuzu's hand when crossing the street, and she and I would help them over the curb. We would also buckle them into imaginary carseats. Then we began to hear less about the Sweeties, and I was sad to think Zuzu might be getting past the imaginary daughters stage. She even seemed to be trying to let go of them (similar to Lars and the Real Girl but less drastic), by telling me that the Sweeties didn't want to come out with us--it was too cold, or they just wanted to stay home and play. But the Sweeties haven't gone away; they just only seem to exist in the home environment now. The Sweeties are very good, kind, helpful, and obedient. In fact they seem to model the behavior that Zuzu herself is aspiring to. For instance, for a couple weeks we struggled to get Zuzu to eat her dinner. But Zuzu would tell us during this time that the Sweeties had eaten all of their dinner!
Monday, February 9, 2015
Hide and Seek
“I’m going to hide in my room!” Zuzu shouted joyfully to Grammie and me during our game of hide-and-seek, and ran off. Grammie counted nice and loudly, then we went to Zuzu’s room to find her. She was on the bed, sitting straight up, with a blanket over her head. She was very quiet and didn’t move while Grammie pretended to search all the corners of the room. With difficulty I muted my laughter. Did Zuzu believe she was out of sight? Why didn’t she at least crouch? Finally she couldn’t take it anymore and cried out from under the blanket, “I’m right here!”
Later, after Grammie had left, it was my turn to hide. Zuzu told me all the places where she wanted me to hide, then scurried away while I put myself in those places, then ran back and found me. Finally she ordered me to hide in her room. She walked with me all the way to her room, even closing the door behind me. A few seconds later she came in to find me—and didn’t see me. She must have expected me to sit on the bed and put a blanket over my head. Instead I sat behind her little dresser—in plain sight, had she bothered to walk into her room a few more steps. But in confusion she left her room, and began to look for me all over the house. I could hear her as she went, wondering aloud where mommy was hiding. At first I thought maybe she was pretending, the way Grammie and I had pretended earlier to draw out the search. But I could tell she was gradually becoming more distressed. So finally I called out, “here I am!” She didn’t hear me, and her cries were becoming louder and more pitiful. I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet, because I thought the whole thing was funny. I kept calling to her, but hadn’t managed to get her to hear me, when the garage door went up. “Oh, there is daddy, I will ask him!” she said out loud. And that’s when Anders walked in, home from work, to find little Zuzu with a tear-stained face and no idea where I was. I got up out of my hiding spot and came out quickly so he wouldn’t panic.
All this time Bear was playing happily on the living room floor.
Later, after Grammie had left, it was my turn to hide. Zuzu told me all the places where she wanted me to hide, then scurried away while I put myself in those places, then ran back and found me. Finally she ordered me to hide in her room. She walked with me all the way to her room, even closing the door behind me. A few seconds later she came in to find me—and didn’t see me. She must have expected me to sit on the bed and put a blanket over my head. Instead I sat behind her little dresser—in plain sight, had she bothered to walk into her room a few more steps. But in confusion she left her room, and began to look for me all over the house. I could hear her as she went, wondering aloud where mommy was hiding. At first I thought maybe she was pretending, the way Grammie and I had pretended earlier to draw out the search. But I could tell she was gradually becoming more distressed. So finally I called out, “here I am!” She didn’t hear me, and her cries were becoming louder and more pitiful. I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet, because I thought the whole thing was funny. I kept calling to her, but hadn’t managed to get her to hear me, when the garage door went up. “Oh, there is daddy, I will ask him!” she said out loud. And that’s when Anders walked in, home from work, to find little Zuzu with a tear-stained face and no idea where I was. I got up out of my hiding spot and came out quickly so he wouldn’t panic.
All this time Bear was playing happily on the living room floor.
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