Prayrers

Getting ready to tuck the Sisters into bed, Little Miss informs me:

Miss: "Mommy.  You don't have to say foh me a prayrer, buh-cause I already sayed myself foh prayrers ah-ready." 

C: "Wow, you said four prayers.  What did you pray for, Love?"

Miss (sits up to look at me squarely, that I may better grasp the gravity of the revelations She is about to bestow upon me.  She holds up Her index finger:) "One: I prayered foh me- a hot dog."

C: "You prayed for... for a hot dog."

Miss: "Yes. (She holds Her hands out wide to demonstrate) A BIG one." 

C: "Ok.  Well, so.  You had four prayers; what else did you pray for?"

Miss holds Her hand up and ticks off Her topics of appeal to Her creator:
"Two.  A prayrer foh some must-ahd.  Thwee. Foh pickuh welish.  And foh- some ketchup."  

I have a weird feeling that what I serve Her for lunch tomorrow may have an unusual significance. 

What Are The Chances

Little One: "Bye Mama! Where are you goin'"?

C: "To yoga. Who wants hugs and kisses?"

Missy (cheerfully hugs, kisses, waves to me as I walk out): "Buh-bye mama! Have 'nice time! I hope you don't get hit by laht-ning!"

Little Mister 10 Months

Little One isn't the only one who had a birthday back on the 7th.  Mister hit double digits!
Don't let the fact that His weight is in the 4th percentile fool you (we grow em' light around here).  Mister has become a force of nature.
This little bundle of energy has become a wiggling, climbing, crawling, bouncing little tornado.  He leaves a trail of emptied cabinets, open board books, and stacking cups wherever He goes.
He always goes wherever His finely tuned sixth sense tells Him there is the most Danger.
The phone-charging cord left dangling from a socket.  The not-quite-latched door to the basement steps.  Sisters' room with the entrancing, magnetic dollhouse full of fragile choking hazards.  And, most especially, the bathroom.
Mister has fallen in love with the bathroom.  Any bathroom.  Because, of course, it is the household Mecca of Danger.  It has bottles of tasty-looking potions.  It has hot-water faucets just the right height to pull up on.  A tub to tumble into headfirst, trash cans to upend with who knows what inside and! Best of all! A perpetually filled water table just the perfect size to splash in! The toilet.
It is a constant exercise in vigilance around here to monitor the bathroom door. All of us have developed a Pavlovian response to, at the sound of a flushing toilet, holler "DID YOU SHUT THE DOOR?!" It has to be properly shut, too, not just pulled to.  He's too smart for those tricks.
He's pretty smart in general, though.  He's figuring out how to communicate more and more, He's figured out how to get my attention (with teeth), he knows all of our habits to an amazing degree.  He sees Missy show up in the dining room in the morning and instantly drops His toy and makes a beeline for Her room.  He knows she forgets to shut the door when She wakes up.
Mister at 10 months is getting close to being upright.  He cruises the furniture.  He's very, very proud to show you that He has figured out how to hold onto the outside of the seat on the anchored walker and push it around and around and around the play table.  And around and around and around.
He has very recently started to pull up, dawn the expression of a tightrope walker about to step out on the wire, and let go.  He balances a moment.  He realizes He's doing it- He's doing it!! He looks up to see if anyone is watching, He claps vigorously in admiration for Himself, He laughs, He falls.  Repeat.
He has discovered rocking toys and scooting ride-on toys, and thinks they, well, rock.  He loves to crawl and explore and itches for Freedom whenever He's been restrained too long.  Sometimes the way He writhes and squeals after a long car ride, and then hits the floor and bounds off into the living room, reminds me of a wild animal re-released into it's natural habitat.  The sweet baby snuggles are fewer and fewer.  He just has this insatiable need to move.  All the time.
In finer skills, He has figured out actual chewing, and also how to maneuver bits of stuff into His mouth.  Mr. Independent is so thrilled to be able to feed Himself, that He only very grudgingly allows me to feed Him by spoon when He's really hungry.  Once the edge is off He uses His (amazingly good) hand-eye coordination to fire His fists at incoming spoons like defense torpedoes.  It is the Iron Dome of "That's Not A Cheerio".
It comes with sound effects, too, as He makes a satisfactory "Alldone!" each time a spoon is blasted away.  "All Done" is probably His favorite thing to say.  Also the new one, "Dog".  He LOVES dogs.  He loves to see them, hear them, look at them in books.  He has tried everything a Little Mister could to get to ours in the yard.  He hears them bark and plasters His droopy face to the window, "Dog! Dog! Dog!" I think He may believe He is answering them in their language.
The biggest change in Mister over the last month is the development of preferences.  And by prefer, He means My-Way-Or-The-Cryway.  The spoon vs. finger-food is one such preference.  He also prefers not to have His diaper changed, to have clothes put on His body, or have anything with buckles holding Him back from sweet, sweet freedom.  He prefers not to have things stolen from Him, no matter what hazard they may pose to His health and well-being.  He prefers to play Pat-a-cake.  Again.  Again!  In fact Pat-a-cake is to this child as Fetch is to a labrador retriever.  Don't start, unless you plan on playing until one of you is unconscious.

Other favorite pastimes are:
-Counting things in books.  Either you point at and count things, or He points around the page snickering as you count whatever He is pointing at.  Reading the words in the books? Thanks-no-thanks.
-Things that shake, rattle, and/or roll.
-Music with a good beat.  Mister has found His groove thang and He likes to shake it.
-Dumping stuff out of places.  A guy could spend all morning doing this!  Really.
-Dance with me around the room.  SO hilarious.  All the better if Sisters are dancing too.
-Follow those Sisters around wherever they go, like a little tag along puppy.

Favorite Foods:
-Mister doesn't love a lot of sweeter foods, like banana or mango, or grapes.  His favorites are:
-Raw Tofu.  Seriously.  Almost as much as cheerios.
-Salmon
-Rice cakes (the new substitute for pacifiers)
-Apple slices to gnaw on
-Asparagus
-Kidney beans
-Brown rice
-And of course, Cheerios.

As long as He can get it to His mouth on His own, though, He's pretty happy with it.  That's our Mister.  Our first glimpses into His disposition definitely reveal a very independent dude.  Now, He still needs His quota of time in Mommy's arms, a kiss after a bumped head, and a good cuddle before bed.  He still likes to give and get hugs and kisses.  But He is usually happiest when He's just exploring the world on His own with His people nearby.  His preferences (and first tantrums) have surfaced, but all in all He's still an almost unnaturally easygoing baby, and spends so much time smiling it's a wonder His cheeks don't get sore by lunchtime.
I do love those cheeks, too.  As the babyhood clock winds down, I'm finding myself soaking up these days of chubby thighs and downy hair like rays of actual sun.  Which is about what it feels like.
10 months is so exciting, because He is still all baby, which I cherish so much.  But toddlerhood is clearly visible around the bend, and it's looking like an awesome time.
Little Mister, big or little, you're a bright spot of joy in this family and home.  You keep all of us cheerful when we might otherwise forget to be.  You keep all of us on our toes.  We love you so much, and can't wait to see what's around the corner.  

Little Six

Last week, Little One hit a big milestone.  As my dad pointed out to us, She now needs BOTH hands, to show how old She is.

My big kid six-year-old has hit plenty of other big milestones in the last year-
Lost Her first teeth
Learned to play piano
Became an independent, avid reader
Became a good hiker
Learned to ride a bike with training wheels
Figured out addition, subtraction, and how to make change
Became a "double" big sister
Had Her first surgery and
kicked Her fever syndrome to the curb
Traveled the country
Started kindergarten

These are all good and great. I'm proud of what She has accomplished, experienced, and achieved.
But what I'm really proud of, at six years old, is the kind of kid She just is. 

Little One is a bright and sunny, meet-the-world kind of kid.  She typically greets me early each morning, dressed, bed made, ready to help make breakfast.

She's a responsible kid.  I almost never have to ask Her to make Her bed, put Her dirty clothes away, clear Her dishes, clean up after Herself.  She will say things like, "That's a great treat mom, but can I save some for after dinner?  I don't want to eat too much sugar before my veggies."  She always eats Her veggies.  She is quick to help out, quick to offer a hand, and usually asks for permission or advice if She's not sure what the rules are.

She's a brave kid. A tough kid. She is small, always the smallest in a class or team.  But if She complains about an injury or illness, it really hurts.  In class She social butterflies around, chit-chatting with the girls.  But at recess, She plays mostly with boys.  Because it just happens that there is only one other girl (Her partner in crime) who is up for roughhousing, racing, roaring, wrestling.

That's my little paradox; She's into sparkles and dresses and earrings and pretending to be a mama.  She loves princesses and ballet and purple and pink.  She's also into mud and superheroes, pirates, dinosaurs, blue, and green.  She loves to sit quietly and read for hours and hours,  write in Her journal, draw, or experiment with Her snap-circuits or optics kit.  She also loves to run like a wild creature in the yard, wrestling the dogs, growling like a lion, climbing boulders and throwing rocks.
I once had someone ask me what "kind of" kid She is; tomboy? girly-girl? athlete? bookworm?  
Yes.  She is all the things.

She does it all with flair, too. Gone are the days of getting to pick out Her outfits and do Her hair.  She dresses Herself, puts in Her own, signature, low ponytail.  And Her crazy outfits have rules.  They usually must have a sash.  It does not matter if the sash matches, if the outfit is supposed to have a sash, or if it even is a sash, rather than a torn silk scarf or random shoelace or something.  The shirts must always be tucked in.  Tucked in mom, in.  There should be tights- not leggings- and also socks.  A cardigan is a must.  Pants are a never.  What matters is that a shirt and a skirt individually are liked, not that they match.  Dresses are highly preferred.  She's very self-conscious about what Her friends will think, a new thing, but apparently they think these wild ensembles awesome. Which they are.

She does everything with flair, though.  Her bed is never just made, just the covers pulled up.  Each and every single morning, Her pillows and stuffed animals and dolls are intricately arranged in a new display.  With maybe some necklaces strung into garlands, some socks folded into flowers, some feathers adding a flourish here and there.  Where did She get feathers?  No one knows.

She finds things. And She hoards them.  Little One is allowed one special drawer, just for Her, that She can keep secret treasures in.  And that thing is jam-packed.  There is all kinds of random junk in there, which is not junk at all but cherished sacred possessions.  Especially Her journal.

Little One keeps a journal that She usually writes in after She's been tucked in.  I don't pry into it, but She occasionally shows me pages, and it's pretty much the cutest thing ever.  It's mostly about the things and people She loves; how much She loves Her family, Her dogs, Her Puppy, Her friends.  It is literally rainbows and fields of flowers in there.  (And some sharks and dinosaurs.  So I guess She's balanced.)

Writing and creating are Little One's heartbeat.  She is always writing, drawing, crafting.  She loves to make things out of cardboard; houses for fairies, beds for dollies, a diorama of a Powhatan village. Today She hauled some big flattened boxes out of the recycle pile and spent 3 hours creating a castle with a working drawbridge.  Then She labeled a popsicle stick with each of our names, and built a slot we can deposit them into, like a key, so that She will know if we want Her to lower the drawbridge so we can visit.  Any time.  Any time at all.   Because She wouldn't want us to feel left out.

She doesn't want anyone to feel left out.  Or sad.  Or scared.  Or uncomfortable in any way.  There was a time Little One wished She had a super power, and I told Her She does.  She has a super-human sense of empathy.  This has made Her the care-taker of All Beings.  Real, pretend, or imagined.  It has given Her a lot of friendships at school, Her teacher tells me.  It has gotten Her sister out of a lot of chores.  One tear from Miss and Little One can't stand it- suddenly Missy's bed is made, Her blocks put away, and She's getting a story read to Her.

In fact Her love for Her siblings is something I find profoundly beautiful.  She has an infinite patience and tenderness for Little Mister.  She has an impressively large patience and camaraderie with Her sister.  And though She has given us more sass and moodiness since starting kindergarten, She is devotedly loving to Her parents, too.

At six, She's just starting to shift some of that importance over to Her peers. Starting to be too cool for things, starting to eschew "baby stuff" or "little kid stuff", now that She's all big-time kindergarten.  But I'm lucky that at six, She still thinks it's fantastic if I get to spend time in Her classroom; still likes to hold my hand on the way to school.  I'm lucky that She still thinks I'm fun to hang out with, and begs for special time "just us", and invites me to play, to draw with Her, to see everything She's working on (She's always working on something).  I'm so thankful for this, knowing how soon it may slip away.

Little One still loves music, singing, dancing.  She loves science, history, facts.  She tends to get microbursts of obsession.  Something will raise Her curiosity, and then She has an intense desire to know ALL about it.  We will get books, google articles, visit museums, until Her thirst for the subject abates and then it's on to the next.  This year She has gone through phases of interest in dinosaurs, the revolutionary war, greek mythology, geology, optics, wildfires, child labor, and Shel Silverstein poems.  I can't tell you how much I cracked up writing "internet article: history of the labor movement and child-labor practices in the 20th century" on Her school read-a-thon log.  Her teacher must think I'm a nutcase.  But the girl has a voracious love for learning, and it's one of my favorite things about Her.

But then, I have lots of those.
I love how kind She is.  I love how generous She is.  I love how open She is to new ideas, new experiences, new foods, to anything really.  She's always up for an adventure, always willing to give anything a try.  I love the way She will fail or get hurt and then get right back in the ring and try again.  I love the way She will struggle hard through something, and persist until She gets it.  I love the way She finds something beautiful and lovable in absolutely everything and everyone.  I love the way She protects Her siblings, and dotes on them.  I love the way She treasures Her grandparents.  I love how grateful She is for Her blessings in life.  I love how silly She can be, I love the musical sound of Her laughter.


Some stats:

Favorite Foods
-tunafish sandwiches
-blackberry anything
-injera
-breakfast
-Japanese food of any sort

Favorite Books
-Amelia Bedelia
-Shel Silverstein
-Non-fiction for early readers

Favorite Movies
-Frozen (of course)
-Sound of Music
-Cars

Favorite Games
-Card Games
-Pretend
-Chess
-Life
-Brain Quest workbooks


For all I've written, I could write forever.  It's a joy to be Her parent, to watch Her grow, to hear the funny things She says, to be the recipient of Her wonderful hugs.   At six, it's also a joy to have Her friendship, as She becomes more grown-up every day.

I love you my Little One.  Happy Six.

Missy's First Day Of Preschool

I just realized I never posted this about Missy starting class at Her own preschool!   She was so worried about pre-school, so sad not to have Her sister there this time.  I could almost hear a dirge playing as we walked to school the first day.  She took Her sweet time changing Her shoes and hanging up Her backpack, I can tell you.  So Mr. and I waited.  We were in no hurry.
Then we walked Her in, and suddenly, from the ether, a circle of small people materialized around Her.
She didn't seem to know whether to be amused or freaked out.  The teacher (who is fantastic) took Her hand and welcomed Her.  She smiled.
I said, "Miss, do you want me to go now, so you can start your day?"
She looked a bit serious.  But She nodded.
So I left.
I waited a few moments and peeked through the window. I had to!  No tears.  So I walked home.
It was very, very quiet.
When the time finally came to pick Her up, She was on the swings.  I waved.
She pretended not to see me.  I waited a bit, then came closer.  I was still invisible!
I came right up and called Her name.  
"Little Miss! Hi! How was school? Are you ready to go home for lunch?"

Missy grinned.  She shook Her head.
"No, I'm goin' stay yeah."

"You're just going to stay here and never come home? You'll camp on the playground?"

"Shuh! I like it heah. I can just stay.  Bye."

So I guess it went well.
Since that first day, I haven't had any trouble convincing Her to go to school. She does still miss Her sister, and comment that She wishes Sissy could be in Her class.  But She was elated to tell me that Her class is full of kids "just my own very age!" and loves Her teacher and how "peaceful and nice" the classroom is.
I'm glad it's a good fit, sad She's away from me half the day, glad She loves it and is learning.
I must admit, it's still hard to leave Her and walk home. But it's fun to come up over the hill at pick up time, and see Her so happy, playing with friends of Her own.  And then scoop Her right up and bring Her back with me!

Don't Blink

There will be lots of words.  But for now, the fact that I have a SIX year old, leaves me speechless. 

Here I am with my biggest angel on the morning She turned six.

And here She is a few minutes ago....How does it happen?!
I miss that little pink baby.
But I wouldn't trade anything for the fantastic, amazing girl She grew into.