Little sister logic

"I guess you're not going to learn Spanish then, if you won't repeat what I said..."

"I guess it's just too hard for me. Oh, well."

And I thought the cheese stood alone

"What letter does your name start with?" I asked Lindsay at dinner last night.

"S," she replied, chomping dramatically into her grilled (girl) cheese sandwich.

"Well," I said, "Our last name starts with S. But what does Lindsay start with?"

"Cheese!" she replied.

Serving up tragedy

Several years ago, Mudda bought Lauren an aromatherapy bear for Christmas. Lauren was probably about 3 at the time, and loved that her snuggly bear smelled nice and was warm. Years passed, and it ended up in a trunk in our sun porch. The same sun porch we're currently reorganizing as a playroom where the family Wii will live.

Bear-y surfaced. Lindsay fell instantly in love.

I thought, oh! I bet she'll love him if I make him all warm and scented. I plucked him up, and put him in the microwave for a minute.

Lindsay sobbed, "You are turning my bear into DINNER!"

"Oh no!" I interjected.

"First he is a lovey and now he is going to be food." Giant tears splashed down her face.

I looked from her crying face, to the turnstile of the microwave, spinning round and round with Bear-y on it. I opened the door, grabbed Bear-y out, and handed him to Lindsay.

"See, he is ok!" I said.

She sniffed.

"He's warm now, right?"

She felt him, looking a little confused, she nodded.

"And he smells nice?"

"Yes." She said. "Don't do that again."

What I want for Christmas (and it's not teeth)

It is practically a car payment for this attachment. Our Kitchen Aid itself was probably about the same price when we bought it 10 years ago. It makes our sandwich bread weekly - even despite the hiatus while our kitchen was being worked on, more of our baked goods were homemade than not this year. I'm pretty proud of that. The baking station has already seen several batches of biscuits and a couple of pie crusts prepared on it in the couple of weeks we've been back to business.

This attachment, exclusive from Williams Sonoma, makes macaroni noodles, fusilli, and spaghetti. I'll admit it - pasta is a standby meal in our house. A box of macaroni noodles makes two meals worth of mac 'n' cheese and stowed in my freezer is quicker than delivery. I can't even imagine how much better it would be with Fresh Homemade Pasta.

Tantrum Season

When you hang out with a 3 1/2 year old person, things are volatile. Especially if you're doing stuff that doesn't directly benefit that 3 1/2 year old person, like say, going to older sister's Thanksgiving play and feast at school.

Lindsay was great for the short, 4-act play. She even managed to sit patiently while every other table in the classroom was dismissed to get the snack - the yellow table was last. She navigated the line, retrieved her snack, and sat proudly next to big sister eating.

It should've occurred to me when snack was finished, and the teacher began playing a number game with the second graders that this was a fast track ticket to boredom for our heroine. She began playing on the map of the United States carpet behind where Lauren sits, running from East coast to West, and back again. When I asked her to sit, she refused. The second time she refused, I said we would have to leave if she couldn't sit. She began to protest loudly, so I slung my bag on my shoulder, whispered to Lauren, "See you outside after dismissal," and ran out the nearest door with the little person secured like a sack of flour at my hip. A caterwauling, kicking sack of flour. Of course, I was 3 doors away from the dismissal door, so I set Lindsay down and said, as calmly as I could muster, "Are you ready to listen?"

"No." she shouted.

"Ok, then I will have to carry you again." I made my way over with a kicking and screaming Lindsay. When we arrived, I sat her down between my ankles, holding her firmly so that she couldn't run off, as she screamed.

"Wow." Kimberly said. "Good party?"

"It was good." I replied thoughtfully, "but a little too long."

"I can see that."

"You just never know when it will be too long."

Kimberly nodded. "You just never know," she repeated.

Conversations

Me: Will you say hi to my grandmother on the phone?
Lindsay: Mom (putting her hand up), I can't. Rockstars don't talk on the phone.
Me (talking into the phone): Sorry, Mimi. Lindsay won't say hi.

Lauren: There's this thing that bugs do.
Me: What's that?
Lauren: Well, with people we call it marrying. But with bugs it's called mating. You know what else?
Me (cringing inwardly): What else?
Lauren: Bugs can't mate with their mama bugs, just like I can't marry my mama.

Rockstar

My girls sure are getting big...

May 2007

September 2009

First day of school

I guess it's better than 'I saw it on TV'

"Mom, come meet our new ladybug!"

"Oh, you found a ladybug? How old is it?"

"It is 12 years old," Lauren replied, as she counted its spots. "And it is yellow."

"Cool. A yellow ladybug."

"I am just glad it is not white."

"Oh?"

"Because white ladybugs are cursed."

"They are?"

"Yes. I read it in a book."

Master Negotiator

"So, we wanted to know if we swept off the steps and the front porch, will we earn a quarter?" Lauren asked.

I closed my eyes, thinking about this. "You each want a quarter?"

Lauren nodded.

"Well...ok. I suppose it is worth 50 cents..."

Lindsay piped up, "Actually, I want four dollars."

I laughed.

Lauren added. "Wow. I didn't think to ask for four dollars..."

Lindsay said nothing and continued to stare at me earnestly.

"I'm going with 50 cents..."

"Ok," Lauren said happily.

Lindsay scowled and picked up her broom. Glancing over her shoulder, she muttered, "I'm going with four dollars."

Of course my first post in forever is about poop

After months of "She'll do it when she's ready" to reading every potty preparation resource on the Internets, to knock down drag out fights to get this little person to at least try to go potty, Lindsay decided it was worth going for the promise of toys. Little miss thing has been in dry "pantalettes" for the entire day.

I was beginning to sweat sending my daughter to college in Princess Pull-Ups.

Omnious milestones

Here's Lindsay having her post vaccination treat - a strawberry frosted donut with rainbow sprinkles. She felt the Ming Ming sticker didn't match up with her pain and suffering, and hey, I can always go for an iced coffee.

At 3 years old, Lindsay weighs 26 pounds and is 35 inches tall. The doctor tells me that is just shy of the 10th percentile for both height and weight. She stubbornly refused to speak to or in front of the doc, he had to go out of the room to observe her language skills (which are considerable) and laughed when the answer to all his questions was "when she feels like it" (eg, Does she use the potty? When she feels like it. Does she eat well? When she feels like it.) The nurse batted an eye at "She doesn't drink milk" (why are they so obsessed with milk?), but the doctor did not. He also diagnosed the angry itchy patch inside her elbow as eczema, which was a relief because we thought it might be ringworm and it just won't go away. It was doing better for a while with tea tree oil, but now it isn't. He recommended hydrocortizone cream, which also seems for crap.

Simple questions, weird answers

"Good morning, Lindsay!"

She replied through her thumb, nestled in between the stretched stitches of Hatty and The New Color Wonder, "Mornin', Mom."

"How did you sleep?"

"Like a pig."

Stifling a laugh, I asked, "A pig?"

She snored loudly, snorted, and then replied with a laugh, "Yeah, like a pig."

Not a toddler anymore

Here's my big girl:

Lindsay, April 2009

What I'm good at

"Don't you have a very big stroller?" Lindsay asked.

"No, grown-ups don't get to ride in strollers, but it's okay because I am a very good walker."

"No. You are a very good pusher."

I laughed, "I am a good pusher?"

"Yeah, you push my stroller good."

Epiphany's Earth Day

I'm in a bit of a mood right now. Linds just threw up her breakfast, which was oatmeal and orange juice which I have to say has to have the foulest smell and most disgusting texture of anything that could come out of a person. And? This was INSIDE the couch. Who sits inside a couch? Lindsay. Also? If you have Method products while they may kill ants, they absolutely don't touch something that stinks. I sprinkled some lavendar essential oil but really it is just adding to the awful smell.

Oh, and? Small child who dropped my hairbrush in the potty (the only reason I can fathom why the hairbrush and now MY HAIR smell like pee), Mama says, "grr".

Yesterday, I had to take the Mazda to the dealer to have one of my airbags replaced. It was not functioning properly, but did not deploy. It meant I had to leave my car most of the day, but since it was a warrantee repair, I was rented a free car from Enterprise. The well-dressed young man (they really have a very snazzy staff there) picked me up, helped me move my two car seats, and entertained Lindsay while I installed them. He was entirely smitten with Lindsay, who in typical Lindsay fashion refused to speak with him and would only shake her head. It went something like this:

"It's nice to meet you, Lindsay. You can call me "E". "

Lindsay shook her head.

"Can you shake my hand?"

Lindsay shook her head.

"Are you excited to ride in my silver car with your Mommy?"

Lindsay shook her head.

When we got to the office, things remained terse.

"Do you want to get the white car," he pointed, "Or that big black one?"

Lindsay shook her head.

I completed the paperwork to rent the white Corolla. E vacuumed it and moved the carseats into it for me. As I installed Lindsay's seat, he said, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Lindsay - I hope I see you later. Will you wave goodbye?"

Lindsay shook her head.

Things didn't improve when I returned with both girls later.

"Hey, Lindsay. Welcome back! Can I get a wave?"

Lindsay shook her head.

"Is that your sister?"

Lindsay shook her head.

"Would you like a little rubber car? I have one for your sister..."

Lindsay shook her head.

"Alright, well. Maybe another time."

Her face crumpled and lower lip began to quiver. Suddenly, she was shrieking, and of course, poor E felt terrible. He tried to hand her the car, but she only would agree for him to give me the car and she took it from me, still sniffling. Despite this, E drove me back to the dealership and offered to keep the kids in the car with him while I ran into to sign the paperwork and pick up my keys. When I returned, Lindsay threw her car at E, and Lauren was kicking the back of his chair. I found out later that they were playing keep away with the rubber cars, this was after Lauren erupted into tears that he took her car away, and when I put Lindsay into her seat in my car, she asked, "Is E coming with us?"

Poor E.

A very long week

Alec was out of town last week, and that always makes for a long week.

My dishwasher was broken. Which isn't a big deal unless you bake 3 loaves of bread and a batch of bagels, and then it's a huge pain in the ass. But y'know that hubs came home, took it apart and fixed, I can just push that button and my dishes come out clean and hot.

I have a paper due next week, which, unfortunately will mean another week of only 144 character updates from me. I'm not terribly stressed about the paper. I keep having little bursts of inspiration - yesterday during class, I managed to outline it a bit, and I wrote another piece of it during the sermon at church today. Once I have time to sit down and weave these bits together, it should be fine.

Lindsay started Mommy & Me at a new preschool. Lindsay never wants to do what anyone else is doing, so it is instead of this nice bonding time where we sing songs, me singing songs and chasing Linds around trying to get her to sit still for two freaking minutes while every other kid in the room is doing exactly what they are supposed to with their mommies holding little babies in their laps. There was a 10 minute "I don't want to have a snack tantrum". I'm hoping this preschool will work for her for the fall, but so far it is just making me want to pull out my hair.

I was approached today to speak about the things I'm doing with our food, and I am feeling sort of anxious about the idea. I feel like the things I'm doing now are good and work for me and my family, but the thought of it framed like "this is how to do it" seems jarringly wrong to me. I have to think about it some more.

Preacher, Mountain Lion

"Rosa Parks was a mountain lion." Lauren announced during supper.

"Oh? How was Rosa Parks a mountain lion?"

"Mountain lions 'fight the fight for what is right'," she chanted.

"So, you don't agree with the book that Rosa wouldn't get up because she was
tired?" [One of the statements her reading book made was that some people
think Rosa didn't get out of her seat because she was too tired.]

"She was tired! She was tired of racism. She couldn't stand it anymore, so she
wouldn't stand up."

I replied, "That makes a lot of sense."

"Martin Luther King was a mountain lion," she continued. "He 'fights the fight
for what is right'. And he was a preacher."

"Yep."

"He had a dream about black people having the same things as white people..."

"Yep." I said. "Martin Luther King thought everyone should have the same rights."

"Well. Everyone SHOULD have the same rights." She rolled her eyes.

"Yep."

"Pastor Seth is a mountain lion."

"Oh?"

"He fights the fight for people who weren't born here because he thinks that
everyone should have the same rights. He 'fights the fight for what is right'."

"Mmm hmm."

"Except on Sunday."

"Hmm?"

"On Sunday, he is preaching."

Beep

I posted last week about being frustrated my washing machine has a broken part. It turns out last week also saw a shelf in my brand-spanking-new (well, Mudda bought it for me in August) refrigerator, and the keyfob for my car. The shelf and keyfob were not more than a hassle, really. Remember when we used to use a key to get into a car? Well, I had to use my key. I'd not noticed until now that there's only one keyed entry on the car - the driver's side - and not into the passenger door or the trunk, as I recall on my vehicles made before 1990.

Lindsay had a nap, and awoke grumpy. I was carrying Linds under an arm, kicking and screaming, along with her shoes. I had my denim jacket with my keys in the pocket under my other arm. I realized I had to set Lindsay, still screaming down, to get the keys out of my pocket. I did, picked her up and went to unlock the door with the key. Somehow I managed to set off the panic system, so the horn began beeping and all the lights flashing. Without a working keyfob, there's no way to turn it off.

Beep beep beep, honked the car as I unlocked the doors. Beep beep beep, as I put Lindsay into her carseat, no longer kicking and screaming, but with wide eyes. Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep. I started the car. Beep beep beep. Locked and unlocked. Beep beep beep. I stepped away from the car and called the service center. Beep beep beep. There's no off switch. Beep beep beep. "Maybe it will work over the phone if you call your husband?" Beep beep beep. Neighbors have begun gathering in my driveway, making their own suggestions of Alfredo who replaces watch batteries. But now it is 3:15 and I am late to get Lauren. "Can I drive the car with it going off?" I asked the mechanic impatiently. "You will probably get pulled over." He replied. "Well, I can live with that," I replied.

"They'll hear ya comin'," my neighbor Ed added helpfully.

As it turned out, the horn stopped beeping once the car was in drive, and as long as you didn't open or close a door, or put the car into park, the car was silent. Of course, I had to open the door to let Lauren in, and a small crowd gathered to see why some maniac mom was honking her horn and flashing her lights. Beep beep beep. I rolled down the window, "My car is broken, so sorry," I shouted at the staring crowd who nodded sadly in reply. Beep beep beep. "It's been doing this for a half hour now," I added. Beep beep beep.

I drove the car to the dealership. My new friend Stu the mechanic gave my girls each a package of cookies, replaced the batteries in my fob, and set us off on our merry way within 30 minutes, all for no charge.