With the amazing unseasonable weather going down in New England at the moment, we were finally forced to install the screens on the new windows in the addition. This meant– in addition to the lovely cross breeze and bug-free enjoyment of frog sounds at night– that there was a large amount of spare cardboard laying about.
So of course, we now have a Transmogrifier.
6 inches overnight and coming down in big wet flakes still. Calvin and Rose were out making muddy snowmen and partial igloos all morning but have retreated for the comforts of the couch. This afternoon: the Muppet Movie. Hell yes.
…if you are young.
Over dinner last night we got to talking about Sunspots, the solar cycle, aurorae, and the like. Calvin and Rose asked to go outside and look for some, even though I was pretty sure– you *were* aware of spaceweather.com, right?– that there were no recent flares headed our way. But in between dinner and bedtime, amidst much scrambling and bundling in gloves and hats and coats, we went out. Because I am so SMRT, I put the AstroScan out about 20 minutes ahead of time so it would be temperature adjusted. Continue reading
So it's a little too early in the day to break a new set of glowsticks for the kiddies, so I put on Joan Jett.
No, wait, work with me here a minute.
So I put on Joan Jett, or rather I put on Calvin's iPod playlist, to which I have just added Joan Jett, and because the iPod shuffle algorithm is shadowy and mysterious, it pulls out "I Love Rock and Roll" first up. It should here be noted that when A. is away, it gets kind of loud around here.
It takes all of 3 chords before both of the little ones are rocking out in their own way. Calvin is trying to keep his feet in the same place and see how far he can get his hips from his hands without falling over. Rose is hopping around like a frog on all fours and wiggling her butt in the air with no sense of rhythm whatsoever.
Alas, an elbow hits a nose moments later and the spell is broken. But just for a minute there, heart asplode.
We're at a dual birthday party yesterday, brother and sister aged 7 and 1, with a crowd spanning that entire age range as all siblings were invited. It is a Star Wars themed party and among other festivities there is a Death Star pinata. After much fruitless bashing– really, when was the last time you saw a pinata actually burst open as designed?– one of the Jedi masters "Used the Force" and tore the thing open.
Chaos ensues. And there, in the middle of the scrum, Rose is methodically, carefully, reaching in, under, and around the teeming throng to collect a small bag full of ONLY red candy.(*)
(*) Red is her favorite color by an infinite margin. (**)
(**)Cherry nerds, Strawberry Laffy Taffy, red lollipops, and KitKats, if you must know.
Tonight we added additional characters to the bedtime story routine. As you may recall, we already had:
- Simon, the brave man (Perhaps a spy. Has gadgets. Smells of old leather).
- Iceblock, the whale (Baleen. Gigantic migratory route. Occasionally, can fly (a la Dirigible Behemothaur).)
- George, the monkey (Curious. Always seems to be in some sort of trouble. Midget repellent.)
- Bobo, the Penguin (Comic relief. Jollier than a bucket of leprechauns. Does not want to return to Hoboken.)
Now we must add:
- Lucky, the cat (For those occasions requiring a character who can't be bothered to advance the plot).
- Grit, the cabbage (Somewhat Flumpy (from the heat (from being carried in the brave man's pocket)). Apparently, destined to die/wilt/be consumed in every episode, like Kenny/Poster Nutbag. Bit of a grouch, and his speech is quite muffled (the pocket, again).)
- Tommy, the youthful but vigilant defender of the garden.
- Sally, the unfortunately underwritten Mary Sue.
Those last two, whose names are variable but whose roles are fixed, joined the party and have been incorporated into the canon after last night, when Rose brought a tear of joy to my eye by requesting the Slug's tale. I asked, which Slug's tale? and she says "the one where they laugh their slimy laugh, huh-huHHH, huh-huHHH, huh-HUHHH, and keep on eating the juicy lettuces." Who's got two thumbs and a 4 year old who asks for a recitation of Orb samples at bedtime? ME!
A final tip: with 4-6 year olds, apparently, ANY story is hysterical if told in a Mortimer Snerd voice. If you can get three or more Mortimers in the same story, plus maybe a genial wino or something, that's comedy gold. Hence, I now must occasionally tell the tail of the Three Billy Goats Dumb and the Tramp in the Alley.
Last night, during the "funny stuff" part of bedtime tuck-in, in a fit of brainlock, I ALMOST told Calvin and Rosie the story of Charlie the Unicorn. I recovered in time to tell a story about a different unicorn and a different candy mountain, with no gruesome punchline. but I DID keep the magical leopluradon.
Then we went back to the tales of Bobo the Penguin, Iceblock the Whale, George the Monkey, and Simon the Brave Man. and so to bed.
"Look Papa, it's the guy who kills the wabbit!"
…then she toddles off, singing "Kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit, kill the WAB-bit!"
At random times: "Papa, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" (She has never, to my knowledge, seen Animaniacs…)
Because she is 3: "NO! You stay right dere, I'm gonna do it MYSELF!" (This applies to such things as, running naked through the campground to use a porta-potty alone)
When performing magic: "Abracadabra, Calvin-mazoo, make ice cream appear." (Her siblings have, sadly, mostly corrected her out of this one)
When expecting something good: "Oh! Oh! I'm so exciting!" (understatement)
Also because she is 3: "NNNGH! I *hate* you! I'm not gonna be your fwiend EVER." (never lasts more than 10 minutes)
Cartesian confusion: "Calvin, do you matter if I play wif your legos?" (!)
This evening, the contents of Old Macdonald's Farm included: cats, dogs, chickens, roosters, pigs, cows, squirrels, bears, badgers, ocelots, polar bears, flamingos, elephants, a herd of wildebeest, penguins, a Gaboon viper, kangaroos, humpback whales, a yak, and a Thompson's gazelle.
Rose can now climb out of her crib, but she can't open doors yet. So occasionally we are awakened by the sound of her talking/singing to herself while standing on a stool and turning the lights in her room on and off and on and off and on and off and…
She is losing some of her baby talk, but her brother is still named "Calbin" as far as she is concerned, "ch" is still "ts" (as in, "I love you soooo muts!") and "r" is often "w" (as in, "Calbin, don't scweam at me!").
She has a toy stethoscope. She will come up to you and say "I want to listen to your heart", lift up your shirt, (or as she says it, "shuuuurt"), and put the stethoscope on your stomach. Then she says "Go [breath in, breathe out]." You comply. She chirps "Thank You! Now I wanna give you a shot. Don't worry, it won't pints (pinch, per above) you." She gives you a toy shot, and you of course say "Ow." She replies "I'm sowwy! You want me to kiss it all better?"(actually, "You wan meeta kissit all betta?") Repeat until charmed.
Bedtime songs have become an exercise in comedic timing. It started with my pausing before the last word in a given line until she cracked up. Then she started laughing immediately and singing the last word herself. Now, she's decided it's even funnier if she only sings the first *syllable* of the last word in a line. Which leads to things like:
P: [...]Someone's in the kitchen with
P: -nah, someone's in the kitchen I
R: …KNOW! [giggle]
P: -oh-oh-oh, Someone's in the kitchen with
R: ..DIE! [cackle]
P: -nahhhhhh! Strummin' on the old
R: …[giggle] BAN [guffaw]
and finally, I leave you with this chilling image. I'm doing dishes after dinner, A. is out on an errand. Rose wanders in, pulls the towel off the refrigerator door handle and says "Don't worry Papa, I clean it up!"
Rosie to me, on the way out the door to ride along for the 30 minute "drop everyone else at school" ride: "Bye Bye Papa, See You Tuesday! [blows kiss]"
Instead of saying/screaming "No!" like other 2-ish toddlers, Rose has an expansive vocabulary of negation. Lately we get a lot of "No any that, no any that!" Or "No any this!", or "No any go sleep!".
She will occasionally go all lolcat, i.e. "I can't have to go pee!" Also in the cat vain, she says "Look! I see Jake! Oh Jake, he's so kyoot!" Seriously, she says kyoot. Or kuh-yoot. While yanking on his tail with both hands or trying to pick him up by his ears. Jake allows this. Jake is a very enlightened cat person.
and best of all, she will say "x is too big" to describe an object in any one of a dozen failure modes. Food too hot? "Dese nuggets are too big." Can't buckle velcro shoes? "Shoes are too big." Can't find blanket? "Dis blank is too big!" (For Rose, Calvin has a "blankely" but she has a "blank.") All the water running out of her bathtub down the drain? "Blath is too big!" and sometimes all of the above in combination, "I can't havta go pee, it's too big! No any potty!"
I must point out that Rose is by FAR the most potty trained at the youngest age of any of our kids. But still, she's two. you gotta stay on top of the situation, and it's a frequent topic of discussion.
Every direction is "upstairs." but she has to "hold onna wailing"!
and most every book is either "Read go dog go!" or "read Goonite moon!" even when she's holding neither of those two books.
I'll post more of these later when I can remember. Must capture the cute!
For some weeks now, in response to the question "how are you?", Rose has been saying "It's a happy day birthday!" Or "birfday" sometimes.
and today, it is! Happy Birthday Rose! How can it be possible that you're two already?
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Good gracious. Clearly, today's not Tuesday, it's Poosday.
Rose weighs 9 lbs. 2 oz. this morning. I thought my arms were getting tired faster.