Whoa-Ho-Ho

Suiting up for the light show

It snowed off and on all day today up in the Great White North, so it seemed a perfect night to crank up the heater and the Christmas music in the car, and set off for a pre-bedtime tour of holiday lights.  One of Julie's first Christmas memories was driving off to some street in greater Dallas where every house on the block was done up to the nines.  Ever since then, she'd loved driving around looking at holiday lights.  We toured two different neighborhoods tonight and saw all manner of holiday glitz.  Clara kept crowing out, "There's some holiday lights!" while Joe would sally forth with the more adult, "Well, would you look at this?!"  That was until he tried out "Whoa-ho-ho!"  Well, whoa-ho-ho indeed, Fans, whoa.  Ho.  Ho.  The glitzier the better so far as he was concerned, and if there was a lit up animal in the mix, even better.  (Birdie kept her own counsel.)  It's easy to fault the crossing of the really not-so-very-fine line between tastefulness and tackiness when it comes to holiday lights and be all safely snooty from the car as you rule on the merits of blinking lights, twinkle lights, blinkle lights (blinking and twinkling don't you know), mixing colors, mixing shapes and types and so on, but who can fault the spirit behind it all?  Really, all holiday lights are heart-warming and there's nothing not to love about piling into the car with the people you love to go and have a look.

The Great Great Aunts Come for Brunch

Yesterday, we had all three of Joe and Clara's Great Great Aunt's over for brunch.  The last time we gathered together with them, the eldest Great Great Aunt, Shirley, couldn't make it because the elevator in her apartment building was being replaced and though she has a strong spirit, that won't get you up and down four flights of stairs when your ticker can haul off a beat irregularly when you least expect it. But the new elevator was in so Great Great Aunt Shirley was out!  That's how we were able to get this picture of the four generations of the girls!

Chloe, Clara, Julie, Muriel, Shirley, Nyla, Connie

Christmas Coda (or, Chloe!)

Brigade, as you read the Christmas report, you may not have given the bit about Santa bringing Clara a baby doll much thought.  We must call your attention to it again, and provide a follow-up report.  The baby doll is a Cabbage Patch Kid.  (Readers of a certain age may recall their longing for one of these faux-baby powder scented little ones from the cabbage patch with Xavier Roberts signature scrawled across one of their little bottom's cheeks--so might their parents.  It turns out that the cabbage patch continues to this day!  Who knew?!)

A few weeks ago, at pick-up on a show 'n' share Friday, we saw Birdie's friend, Emma, toting out a Cabbage Patch Kid sporting two ponies on top of her head just like someone else we all know and love.  Emma's Cabbage Patch Kid is named Chloe.  Santa--being terribly clever--brought Clara a Cabbage Patch Kid that looks like Birdie (and Chloe).

By the time we'd come downstairs Christmas morning, Clara and her Chloe were inseparable.  That's right, Fans.  So far as Clara is concerned, all Cabbage Patch Kids might as well be called Chloe.  It was all terribly confusing at first--Had Joe read the birth certificate?  Had Clara?  Was there a new friend at school named Chloe?  Then we remembered--Emma.  Emma's Chloe.  There was a brief mention of Clara's Chloe going by her given name, Sasha, but that suggestion was quickly forgotten as that was even more confusing.  Call Chloe Sasha?!  Why?????*

So now, multiple times a day, you can hear Clara cry out "Chloe!" upon realizing she does not have her beloved in hand.

*Julie would note that she christened her first Cabbage Patch Kid herself, too:  Buffy.  This was pre-Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so how Julie knew of Buffy as a name is a mystery--even to Julie.  But Buffy was altogether fabulous, and she smelled even better.  (Julie may have buried her nose in Chloe a few times these past two days.)

Christmas!

Making ready for the Big Man and his reindeer

Our Christmas began at approximately 3:50am, when Joe appeared beside our bed to announce that it was light outside and therefore, time to get up.  Ted had explained to the bambini that if they woke up, Joe was to check outside by lifting the blinds, and if it was light outside, they could get up.  They were told that they could play with whatever Santa had brought--which would be unwrapped--as well as with whatever was in their stockings.  Clearly, we needed a more specific definition of light that allowed for less subtlety.  Julie walked Joe back downstairs, which is when she realized that the kid hadn't looked in the living room on his way upstairs.  He'd simply beelined it bedside to ask permission to get up.  Well, Fans.  Santa had come.  He'd left scooters, sleds, a Millennium Falcon and "guys," and and a baby doll "for Clara," with baby doll accoutrements.

Naturally, the bambini were up for good no more than half an hour later.  We heard them from upstairs for the next three hours.  Crashes abounded.  When it truly was light outside, Joe began to appear bedside with increasing frequency to suggest that we get up.  When we did, we discovered that a sled laden with all of the pretend foodstuffs was responsible for some of the crashes we'd heard as it had been ferried through several tight doorways and a hallway on its way from the living room to the bambini's room.  The bambini had also clearly been busy whizzing about with the baby doll stroller and grocery cart.

Grandpa Charles and Grandma Connie arrived early so that present opening could commence.  It took all day, Fans.  !!!!!  Less because of the volume--though certainly, we were blessed with many expressions of Christmas love and generosity--and more because of overwrought excitement that slowly disintegrated into crankiness.  This is what comes of beginning one's Christmas before dawn.  Fa la la la la la la la la!

Christmas Eve

The Raleigh House Family (minus one Boo)

Ted grew up reading a book called The Mole Family Christmas.  It is not clear to this author whether it was read only at Christmastime, only on Christmas Eve, only on Christmas Day, both days, Easter Day, year round or what.  But it is clear that it was a well-loved book.  In it, a family of moles, led by its deep-thinking son, asks Santa for a telescope so that they might see the stars.  They reason that if Santa is to have any hope of making their Christmas wish come true, they will have to build a chimney.  They do--evading an owl the whole time--and finishing just in time for Santa's anticipated arrival on Christmas Eve.  At book's close, the Mole Family is enjoying its first look at the stars, thanks to its always-thinking and indefatigable son.  Joe at least was old enough this year to appreciate The Mole Family Christmas, so Ted read it to him and to Clara.  Julie heard Ted reading it again to Joe before a nap on Christmas Day.

Whether it was because of the spirit of The Mole Family Christmas or something else, we can't say, but this is true: last night, on our way out to dinner, Our Deeply-Thinking Hero, looked up at the full moon, and said, "The next time it's dark, I'm going to go outside and get some stars for Clara and me."

Breakfast With Santa

In other news, Santa and Mrs. Claus were in Minnesota yesterday, and we got to have breakfast with them.  Santa and Mrs. Claus dine at Macy's Lakeshore Grill at Southdale Mall when they are in town, where the staff has the whole operation down to a science.  When you arrive, you are taken to your very own table, pre-set with some tide-you-over-until-the-buffet fruit and bowl-pack cereal for the children in your party.  You are set upon by an elf who will make your children a balloon animal or reindeer antlers as a distraction until Santa arrives.  You can also visit an elf who paints faces--red noses for little ones and snowflakes for big kids.  The buffet opens at 9am sharp, which is the same time that Santa and Mrs. Claus arrive.  They visit each table--Mrs. Claus serving as a kind of traffic control help meet--where Santa chats with each child for a bit and poses for a picture.  On your way out, your children get to collect a small stuffed animal brought for them by Santa which makes the magic linger for the car ride home.

It was pretty great, Fans.  The bambini were a little star struck at the big guy and his sidekick.  Clara was so star struck that she spent most of Santa's table-side visit in Ted's lap.  Joe wondered what color Mrs. Claus would be.  He speculated yellow.  As it turned out, she was the same color as Santa--which is to say not yellow.  Joe told Santa that he was hoping for a new sled, and Cars (the movie).  Clara said that she wanted a baby doll.  We took pictures of their respective lists, which we mailed on our way home.

 

Winter Gala 2012 II

Joe.  A pre-kindergartner known for his conscientious approach to his craft and winning good looks, Joe would like to thank his legion Fans and especially, his family for their love and support.  He was last seen as a Monkey in Winter Gala 2012 I, for which he was nominated for a Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Actor in a Musical.

Not only did we leave you hanging, Fans, we have been holding out on you as well.  Well it ends here.  Wednesday night was the KinderCare Winter Event.  Longtime Fans may remember the Winter Event as the Winter Gala.  (We can discern no reason for this seeming downgrade in title and continue to call it the Gala ourselves.)  Fans, Joe has performed in the Gala since its inception when he was in one of the toddler rooms--before the toddler acts were cut.*  He performed in the Gala when he was in one of the "twos" rooms--before their acts were cut.**  And he has, of course, performed in the Gala as a pre-schooler and now, a pre-kindergartner.  Winter Gala 2012 II**** was Joe's last.  What a road it has been, Fans.  What a road it has been.

As a pre-kindergartner, Joe performed not only more acts, but more sophisticated acts.  First up was a prop-aided rendition of Jingle Bells.  You'll see Our Hero in the line right about center stage.  Next came Winter Wonderland in which the group sang about walking in such a wonderland--while marching.  This was followed by a mash-up of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, the ABCs, and Ba Ba Black Sheep, as the parents or most musical among you may recognize as the same tune.  (Hence the knowing ripple of laughter that spread throughout the audience as Joe and his Pre-K classmates began that particular number.)

But the best was yet to come.  Last year, Mr. Mark's Pre-K classroom gained a measure of celebrity with its original chant.  The chant was reprised at Winter Gala 2012 II by the current pre-kindergartners.  We have broken the number into its component parts below, and are providing truncated lyrics in case the words being chanted are difficult to discern between the high register of the voices, the lackluster audio recording environment, and the general hilarity marking the whole number, most especially the big finish.

Next year Joe will join Julie and Ted in the audience for Birdie's Gala debut.  Oh Fans.  You just know it's gonna be awesome.

Rock the House.  Form the house; paint the house; rock the house.
Raise the Roof.  Form the roof; hit the roof; raise the roof.
Make the Dough.  Form the Dough; knead the dough; make the dough.
Guacamole and Have a Cow.  Form avocado; peel avocado, guac the mole. Form the cow; tip the cow; have a cow.

*Return to the beginning again here and here.

**Experience Winter Gala 2011 memories again here and here.

***Relive the first Winter Gala 2012 here.

****Traditionally, the Winter Gala is held in January, so as this holiday season's Winter Gala was held in December, it is the second gala of 2012--and Birdie did not perform in it as she remains in a twos room.

Getting Back to In the Pink

Wednesday night

Fans, it's true: we left you hanging.  When last we posted, the bambini had called in sick, and were headed to Doc Harrington.  Joe had nothing more than a cold (but we all know how a bad cold can really flatten you).  Clara had a cold, as well as impetigo (a skin infection--a patch of raw, crusty skin by her mouth) and pink eye.  The poor little moppets.  They were messes.  But they have turned the corner.  Clara has been on antibiotics since Wednesday evening, and thus, is looking much, much better.  They are still coughing, but less and less with each day that passes.

We love each other

It's Daddy daycare today, and we are off to a good start.  While Ted was washing dishes in the morning Joe found his way to a kitchen drawer where we rediscovered some hearts he had colored and cut out along with some tape.  Ted told Joe that the new rule in the house was that artwork should be taped up in their room not in the living or dining rooms.  This set Joe off on explaining all the surfaces in his room he would tape artwork, including the ceiling.  So off he went to decorate.  When he came back into the kitchen he informed Ted that he hung them by the beds so "we know that we love each other.  I love Clara and she loves me. I have the big heart because I'm big.  Clara has the little heart because she is little."  Hopefully this mutual love can make it through the day!

The Bambini Call In Sick

Fans, the bambini are both sick.  Clara's lingering kind-of-a-cold-but-for-sure-her-two-year-molars-coming-in malaise has turned into a cough-fest.  This ongoing sickness (and of course the imminent appearance of some molars) goes a long way to explaining Birdie's bear cat-iness in recent days.  Poor Birdie.  She's so discombobulated she fell out of bed last night.  She got a horribly bad bonk.  Then, her blankets came off and she couldn't even contemplate figuring out how to get them back on herself, and really, that's what Mommies and Daddies are for--to tuck blankets up around us when we're sick.

Joe is also a one-man coughing band, but also has a stuffed up nose and a fever.  As is Joe's way when he is sick, he slowed way down and slept hard when the time came.  When Ted arrived early to pick Our Hero and his Erstwhile Sidekick up from school, he found Our Hero spaced out on a cot.  He reportedly curled himself into the chair in the living room with a blanket the moment he got home, and slept hard when the time came.  He did wake up--but not right away--when Clara was wailing in the wake of scoring her goose egg, but was otherwise down for the count practically from the moment his head hit the pillow.

So the bambini are calling in sick, and staying home today with Ted, who will be taking them to Dr. Harrington this afternoon just in case they have something that won't resolve on its own.

Our Story

A few weekends ago, during quiet time, when we were all going a little bonkers (save Birdie, who was sacked out), Julie asked Joe if he wanted to see pictures from when Mommy and Daddy got married--before he existed!  Mind blowing.  Joe was ready to have his mind blown, so Julie got the album out and they took a look.  Joe's mind wasn't necessarily blown, but there were plenty of people in the album besides Mommy and Daddy whom he recognized so it was still good times.

It wasn't long before another afternoon rolled around when we were again all going a little bonkers by weekend's end, so we got the wedding album out again.  This time, Birdie was awake.  Now there's one picture in the album, Fans, that's what you might call a posed candid.  Cara, our beloved wedding photographer, bless her, didn't take too many of these.  But when Julie and Ted arrived for the reception, Cara had us pause in the lobby and look all enamored on one of the love seats there.  Here is one of the resulting pictures, which is, actually, in the commemorative album.  (Who can resist a soft focus lens shot?  So romantic!)

The first time Joe saw this picture, Julie told him that Daddy was whispering secrets or sweet nothings to Mommy like "You're beautiful."  (Really, probably, it was something like "Cara said I'm supposed to whisper in your ear.  So I am.  But I feel sort of stupid." Julie, meanwhile, was trying to look unselfconsciously beautiful but thinking, "Me, too.")  But Julie also told Joe that she really was--beautiful, that is, because Julie is not above admitting that she did feel absolutely beautiful that day, due mostly to the fact that the day she married Ted remains, without exception, her best, most happy day, and when your heart is smiling that big on the inside, you can't help but look beautiful on the outside.

The second time Joe saw this picture, he said to Julie, "This is when Daddy told you you were beautiful, and you really were."  Oh Fans.

It all set Julie to thinking about stories and how precious they are, because you can have memories of things you didn't experience because you've heard the stories.  Joe and Clara weren't there that December eight years ago now, but we can give them the story--part of the start of each of theirs--so they can keep it as a memory.  The same trick will give them their memories of themselves, and each other, now, which they probably couldn't remember on their own without our stories.

Joe and Clara, so often as I write these posts, I think of the day, who knows when, when you both will read them.  It wasn't why I started writing, but over time, I've come to realize that I write these posts mostly for you, so you will know your stories, who you were, who we were--our story, this one we're making up together every day.  Pretty good so far, huh?  Can't wait to see what happens next.

PULL OVER!

So Joe and Clara's Great Great Aunt Nyla gave Joe a bullhorn that distorts one's voice the last time she visited.  Naturally, it lives in the basement.  This morning, the bambini were down in the basement with Julie while she was folding the laundry, and the bullhorn was found.  Joe spent what seemed like an hour shouting "PULL OVER!" into it.   A police officer visited Joe's class the other week ago, and Joe apparently now believes that a bullhorn's only purpose is to holler "Pull over!" at someone.  He could not be dissuaded on this point for some time.  And Julie tried.  She highlighted alternative uses from both the athletic and law enforcement arenas, and offered up attendant alternative phrases.  Nonstarters.  (You can see some of this scene here, though we apologize that you cannot get the full effect as our stringer camera person might have made her finger over the speaker.  The B team, you know.  Note that Joe tries the bull horn at his ear about 58 seconds in.  Another B team moment.)

We went to Wendy's for lunch and picked up another fantastic noise maker: a microphone that distorts one's voice!  The phrase the bambini took to hollering into the microphone was--ironically, as Ted pointed out--"Quiet down there!"  (Fans of In the Night Kitchen will recognize this phrase.)  Here is a brief clip of Clara chanting it.

Ted reports that yesterday, Joe was chanting "MGM Liquors," from his perch in the shopping cart as they tooled around the electronics department at Target.  Apparently Ted had taken Joe to purchase beer there after they'd gone to the Whole Foods next door, and Joe asked what the letters said.  "MGM Liquors!"  Poor Ted.

Before we draw the seemingly disparate strands of the post together, we must report that Joe spent a good portion of the late afternoon learning the subtle distinction between Pump It Up, and Pump A Dump.  Enunciating--it's a drag.

We arrive at the point: much of this weekend was spent listening to Joe and Clara roam around chanting, Rain Man-like, "PULL OVER!" and "Quiet down there!" and "MGM Liquors!" and "Pump a dump!"  Often into voice distorting toys.

May we be delivered from voice distorting toys.

Pump It Up!

Joe went to his good buddy Graham's fifth birthday party today.  G Man is turning FIVE and celebrated the occasion at Pump It Up.  If you live in the Twin Cities, and have a child in kindergarten or on either side of it by a year, it's a safe bet that you will attend at least one birthday party at Pump It Up.  There's probably a 50 percent chance that you yourself will then host a birthday party at Pump It Up.  Pump It Up contains at least two rooms of giant "inflatables"--i.e. giant bounce house and slide type things.  But giant.  We're, like, way past what you can rent for the back yard, Fans.

Graham and Joe know each other because Graham's mom is Sara, Julie's best friend, not because they go to the same school.  So the only people Joe knew at Graham's party were Graham and Graham's younger brother, Connor.  Here, we pause to say that practically the first thing that happened when Julie and Joe arrived at Pump It Up, and Joe walked in to a giant room filled with giant inflatables, powered by softly roaring air pumps, filled with people he didn't know, was Connor ran up and said "Hi, Joe!"  The second thing that happened was that Graham ran up and did the same.  So while it is true that their mothers' friendship thrust Graham and Joe together, it is also true that it is moments like this that make Graham (and Connor) good good-buddy material.

So before too long, Joe had gotten his bearings, and was off.  Fans, he tried everything, and must have slid down these gigantic slides about 50 times.  (He was pumped up.)  He got a balloon and a goodie bag filled with glow sticks to take home, and snagged one of each for Clara, too, so she wouldn't be sad.

So tonight, after reading Mercy Watson, Julie told Joe that she had to tell him a few things that she thought were so great and just loved about him: that even though he didn't know anyone at Graham's party besides Graham and Connor, he played with everyone; and he tried all the things; and he thought about Clara so she wouldn't be sad.  And then Joe said something that made Julie even prouder.  He said that he just asked the other kids their names, so then he knew them. "So like when I go to their houses the play, I'll know them."  Julie asked if he had told the other kids his name and Joe was "Yeah,"--all like "uh-huh, yup, yup."  Joe added that he didn't tell Graham and Connor his name because they already knew it.  (He was probably thinking that if he had to spell out that he'd told other kids his name, he probably had to spell this bit out, too.)

After that, Joe decided he wanted a piggy back ride into bed, and as Julie picked him up, he said, "Mommy, this is so good.  This is so good!"

So good.

Just a Minute!

Birdie's favorite book of late has been The Line Up Book.  We first learned of it from Aunt Kate who some time ago sent us some of Cousin Nick's old books.  Clara will often called The Line Up Book just "Sam."  "Read Sam?"  Read Sam!"  The Line Up Book features a boy named--you guessed it, Brigade--Sam, who has dumped all his blocks on the floor when his mother calls him for lunch.  Sam wants to make a line of blocks all the way from his room to his mother.  He runs out of blocks so has to search about for things to line up.  All the while his mother calls to him, and Sam calls back, "Just a minute!"  Then tension mounts.  Will Sam get there in time?  Or will Sam's mother lose it?  (You can probably guess that, too, Brigade.)  It's a lovely little book.  For sure one of Julie's favorites as well, in part because a whole little routine has developed around reading it.

The first bit of The Line Up Book routine is to identify the color of the fly leaf paper.  (Asking Clara the color of the fly leaf is one of the ways Julie helped Clara learn colors.)  The Line Up Book's fly leaf is kind of an outlier color: navy blue.  "NAVY blue!"  As we've reported, the action starts right away in The Line Up Book.  Sam dumps his blocks out; Sam's mother calls him for lunch.  So there's lots of calling back and forth with increasing frustration of sorts from both characters.  Clara gets right in the spirit and hollers "Just a minute!" nearly every time Julie does.  By the time Sam has reached the bathroom, Birdie will point out that Sam wears his shoes in the house.  (We do not.  Julie has explained that not everyone removes their shoes inside the house and wonders sometimes if Clara will think there are houses like ours, and Sam houses.)  Birdie also likes to ask what various objects (that are not being lined up) are, like the bowl, lamp, and letters or mail sitting on a table in the living room.  The knick knacks on Sam's living room's mantle are often asked after, as well.  It's all part of the Sam reading experience.  These bits are like their own little line.  The last page of the book is a picture of Sam and his mother eating lunch.  For a long time, Clara would chirp, "That's Sam, and that's Sam's Mommy!  That's Clara, and that's my Mommy!" as she pointed to the various people.  Sometimes Clara calls Julie "Clara's mommy," and it's funny to hear Clara straddle the divide where she sometimes speaks of herself and what's hers in the correct first person, and sometimes in the wrong but sweet third person.  Before long, she'll have it all sorted out, and know all kinds of other blues, and we'll be thinking, "Just a minute!"

Birdie also likes to gather things up.  Here, she is wearing an apron and toting a backpack, a bag, a bucket, and Fluffy, while pushing a grocery cart which contains yet another bag.  Her book would be The Gather Up Book.

The Pajama Peeler Off Rides Again!

Fans, you may recall that there was a time during which Joe would go to bed in pajamas, and sometimes wake up in his underwear and other times buck naked, having busied himself during the night with taking his pajamas off.  (Sometimes he also busied himself with wrestling them back on because we'd find him in them backwards or inside out.)  The phase disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared.  Fans, it is, perhaps, back.  Twice this week, Joe has taken off his pajamas.  Clara has, naturally followed suit, including stripping off her Pull-Up.  (The second time Joe disrobed after being put to bed, all Clara had to take off was her Pull-Up as she'd been acting like a savage after bath and after all, savages do not wear pajamas.  We found her clutching it underneath her, but not having yet wet the bed.  Julie got her up and put another on, and then Clara flopped right back down, curled up on her side, and closed her eyes, like she'd not been roused at all, in a way that was heart-meltingly dear.)  So it was that Joe was motoring around in only his underwear yesterday morning when it was rather cold, prompting Julie to tell him to find his pajamas and put them back on.  It was right at this time that Joe discovered he needed to go to the bathroom and you could see the wires crossing in his little brain--wanting to do as he'd been told, but needing to go to the bathroom.  That's when he said to Julie, "How about I don't worry about it right now and I'll just deal with it when I get dressed."  (This authoritative statement was also heart-meltingly dear.)

While Daddy Slept and Mommy Was Out

Julie went to a cookie exchange yesterday afternoon during nap and quiet time.  Ted was dozing when she left shortly before 2pm.  At 3:02pm, she received this text from Ted:  "Joes activity while I dozed off was to open the gingerbread and eat some, peel an orange, and let his sister get out of bed."  At 3:59pm, Ted texted, "While in shower joe gave cj a time out."  Fans, we're not sure why, but it seems clear that Joe is thinking he has to do everything around here--make sure there are snacks, get Clara up, keep her in line. . .A boy's work is never done!  Julie arrived home a wide wake of playtime detritus strewn all about, some of which you can see here, including a greeting from the captain and skipper of the USS Playtime.  (To be fair, the churning up of such wakes is much more a function of Raleigh House's small size and the attendant absence of playroom than the harbor master dozing off, and the captain and his skipper have certainly wrecked far more havoc than what you will see in the clip.)

The Joys of Living With Wee Ones

For some time now, we have been meaning to share something we find especially amusing about living with wee ones.  The horror that unfolded on Friday has only made us more mindful of how lucky we are to be able to hold still close the source of so much joy.

Living with the bambini means that one is always finding things where they do not belong, and so often, when one stumbles upon these items--obviously placed in a new home with the utmost care by tiny hands--one's heart cannot help but chuckle.  For example, Ted and Julie both have reading lights that may be clipped to a book or their Nooks that live on their respective night stands.  One was missing for a few weeks in the wake of a fort building frenzy that often found one or both of these lights clipped to the fort's blanket ceiling, dangling down like a miniature chandelier.  It was finally spied clipped to the electrical cord for the light that is mounted in the upstairs reading nook.  The light was attached to the portion of the cord that is between the wall and the end of the chaise in the nook, a space perhaps two inches wide.  It had been placed very just so.

Last week, Julie went to the broom cupboard and saw this:

She laughed, took this picture, and left all as she found it.  So it was that Ted happened upon the same scene yesterday and was able to remark that he'd not heard NORAD had moved its base of operations to the Raleigh House broom cupboard.  Had you, Fans?

Sweet

Fans, the bambini continue their bear cat ways at least some of the time.  This morning, we had a triumph and a failure.  The triumph stemmed from Julie realizing in fairly short order that Joe and Clara weren't simply grunting at each other and laughing, but were, in fact grunting "POOP!" at each other, as though, if you will, pooping, and laughing.  Seriously.  Seriously?  Seriously.  It wasn't even 6:30am.  She calmly separated them, and after a few minutes had passed, calmly told each of them that as they knew, poop was a potty word and was, therefore, only to be used in the same room as the potty.  She added that if she or Daddy heard dirty words coming out of their mouths than there wouldn't be permitted anything sweet the eat--no oranges, no pears, no cookies. . .no cupcakes.  She left them with a swift and frosty, "So clean up your mouth."  Julie felt very Mrs. Piggle Wiggle.

But she felt decidedly less so a little while later when, having abandoned the fun that is grunting poop back and forth with a loved one, the bambini were running around and screaming.  Julie's go-to consequence for running around screaming indoors is to order the bambini to do so outdoors.  It was so ordered with mounting frustration: "O-kay!  [false cheer punctuated with hand claps]  Looks like y'all want TO GO OUTSIDE so let's get your snow pants and boots on!  And your coats and hats and gloves or mittens!  LET'S GO!  [more falsely cheerful hand claps]"  Joe immediately decided this sounded like a terrible idea.  Not because it was all of seven degrees outside, but because it was dark.  He started to cry and Birdie started to cry in solidarity.  No bear cat cries alone!  Julie barreled on even though she sensed that this typically well-tailored consequence to running around inside the house and bellowing at the top of one's lungs wasn't quite as well-tailored given the time and the temperature.  So she soon relented, gnashing her teeth that she was unable to think of an appropriate consequence for the usual lunacy despite the changed circumstances in which the lunacy was occurring.

It is hard to think of the appropriate consequences for misbehavior on the fly.  Tonight, for example, the bambini were back to screaming after having been tucked into bed, and Ted was set to dish out a heaping dose of nothing sweet before Julie said, "No!  That's for potty talk!"

It ain't always sweet, Fans.  But the moments that are make all the rest of them worth it.

Of Batman and Going to the Bathroom

Fans, after we wound up the Starfoxes iditarod and came inside, Joe made a beeline for his blanket and wrapped himself up in it.  It wasn't long before he was pretending to be Batman and set about scouting out a Bat Cave and auditioning his Robin.  (It was a short list, but Clara really nailed it.  She is, after all, already a Bird.)  But in the midst of racing about, nature called.  When Our Caped Crusader emerged, this is what he said:

"I just had to go to the bathroom.  Batman doesn't go to the bathroom, but I do.  Do you know why Batman has a cape and doesn't go to the bathroom?  It's going to fling into it and go away."

And then he was off.

Holy blankets, Fans!

First Big Snow!

It was snowing when we woke up here in Minnesota, and it didn't stop all day.  Snow men ("Frosties") have been built, snow angels have been made, driveways and walkways have been shoveled (multiple times), hot chocolate has been made and drunk.  (Clearly, when winter arrives, you need to pack all of your wintertime fun into one, snowtastic day.)  But if all of that sounds wintabulous, Fans, well, you may want keep our snow bib on, because the bambini were also pulled, in their sleds, all the way to the Starfoxes and back.*  Julie and Ted tethered one sled apiece around each of their waists with--wait for it--the dog leashes.  Fans, it was like an iditarod, in so many ways.

*For Fans familiar with the bambini's hood, this would be the Starfoxes housed in the former bank.

 

Bear Cat Discipline

Although both bambini have been running around all week long in their crazy pants, Clara has also been wearing a crazy shirt (and socks, and underwear).  Joe, at four-and-a-half, is much older and wiser and thus likes to try his hand at disciplining his sister.

Listening to him gives us a sense of how ridiculous we sound to them.

Here is a sampling of things Joe has said to Clara this week:

"You're God in heaven!  You're God in heaven!"*  

"Don't talk to me with a thousand foods in your mouth."

"Running is not available in the hall to show your Pull-Up."**

*This is his attempt to parrot the plea for "dear God in heaven."

**The etymology of this statement is actually rooted in KinderCare, where toys are often "available" or not or, "open" or "closed."

One Bear Cat, in its natural habitat.  She is holding a Pull-Up, an orange frog from the dentist, and one of Aunt Kate's Christmas presents.  Pajamas shmajamas.

Bear Cat Bambini

Fans!  We haven't been able to post because we have been living with a pack a bear cats.  They are at their most ferocious in the time before they are put to bed for the night.  We should report that there are now two standing bedtime rules at Raleigh House:
1.  No getting out of bed.
2.  No touching the (bedroom) door.
These rules were established following the night that the bear cats were up until nearly 9:30pm, standing on their beds, jumping on their beds, opening and closing the door, getting out of bed to ferry stuffed animal friends hither and yon, screeching, laughing, and--naturally--crying.  This was the same night that ended in Julie removing all of the bambini's stuffed animal friends from their room, save six--three each.*  This resulted in three members of the household crying, two because they were making like they were never going to see their stuffed friends again, and the other because even though she knew she was doing the right thing, it didn't feel like it.  (Ted didn't cry and he probably didn't feel like it.  But he may have felt like taking a drive or something.)  The next morning, Birdie looked at Julie and solemnly said, "Three animals only.  Too many animals on the bed."  So you see, Fans, there has been a real meeting of the minds here at Raleigh House.

There has also been a meeting of the minds on the door front.  This is good since, frankly, Julie at least is ready to rip the #$%$%^ thing off its hinges.  Here's how it goes down: Clara gets up (necessity of rule 1, exhibit A) and slams the door shut (necessity of rule 2, exhibit A--and she does slam it; do not go gentle into that good night, Fans--rage, RAGE!).  Joe gets up (necessity of rule 1, exhibit B) and opens the door (necessity of rule 2, exhibit B).  These actions are repeated by each bambini respectively only Clara--increasingly aware that she is really getting to Joe--also begins laughing, as Joe begins crying and wailing, "Clara closing the light!", which in turn makes Clara cry, her power play having backfired.  This was the scene the other night when Julie said something like, "If you are crying because Clara is crying, guess what?  You have the power to change things here.  Own your own power."  (Fans, we do not make this up.)

Needless to day, the bambini have been operating on a sleep deficit, which has meant a mild hysteria has simmered beneath the surface at bedtime for the past few nights.  That's why tonight, Clara was put to bed at 6:30pm and Joe, at 7pm.

At about 7:30pm, we realized all was quiet on the western front.  Clearly something was up.

Only Clara.  Just barely.

*No doubt you are wondering who made the cut.  Joe is kept company at night by Neaky, Panda Bear, and Teddy.  Teddy was recently swapped out for Thomas (the large pillow pet).  Birdie sleeps with Pink Dog, Fluffy, and the latest Baby Doll.

Getting Up, A Progress Report

Fans, as you know, we told Joe that he, and Clara, could leave their room and play quietly if, after waking up in the morning, they found no one else was awake.  This pronouncement led, as you also know, to the morning that Joe scared Julie out of her skin by pretending to be an excited, panting puppy (what else?!) on the sofa in the living room.  Since then, we can report that things have been a bit smoother, but it is clear that the bambini are still working out the subtleties of this new found freedom.

Friday evening, for example, Julie and Ted were sitting on the couch putting the holiday cards in their envelopes and slapping the address labels and stamps on them while they watched TV, when who should come around the corner?  Fans, you should have seen the looks on their faces, which were all "Well, well, well!  What have we here?  TV?  Stickers?!  Such untold delights!"  Luckily, we'd read all about "jack-in-the-box-ers" popping in and out of bed and thought this was just one pop, we decided to pursue the same strategy and make like their getting out of bed was no big thing and it was SO humdrum, what we were doing (The Good Wife?  More like The Boring Wife.), and marched them right back to bed.

So far, between the two of them, Joe wakes first more often than Clara, and when he does, he patters into the living room and it would seem, from the evidence, turns on the lights on the Christmas tree, reads a little Mercy Watson, and then does some coloring, time permitting.  This morning, we found Joe and Clara at the dining room table coloring.

If Clara wakes up first, she makes a bee line for the big bed upstairs.  So far, it's happened twice.  Once, at 3:41am, when she found herself carted right back down stairs.  She was clearly confused.  She was up.  She'd done her part and left the room instead of crying in her bed, and she was back in her bed?  What's up with that?  Mama?  Dada?  Tough conversation number 89: explaining to a two-and-a-half-year-old who doe snot know clock time, when one should put one's self back to sleep upon waking, and when it is o-kay to get up and find the Big People or get up the Little Man who knows what quiet activities are probably permitted.  Eventually Clara Jane just seemed to throw in the towel.  Probably because it was before 4am.

The second time Clara Jane woke up before Joe was yesterday morning.  She high tailed it for the big bed.  She climbed on up and wasted no time--no time--getting herself to the middle ("I go there.").  It was after 6:30am, so in the middle she stayed.  (Berenice tried to be in the middle, too.  It didn't work.)

Cupcakes, Again

When Joe an Clara's Great Great Aunt Muriel was over for brunch Thanksgiving weekend, she thoughtfully returned the jar that we had given over the summer her with jam in it.  She had also thoughtfully filled it up with M&Ms.  They were sitting in plain sight nearly the whole week before Joe spied them.  To prevent incessant M&M requests, Julie told him that they were for the cupcakes we were going to make this weekend.  Of course, that meant we were on the hook to make cupcakes this weekend.  (But, as we won't be going to Yum! for a while, we were going to have to take matters into our own hands anyway.)

At lunch on Saturday, Julie told Joe they could make the cupcakes while Clara was napping, but then Julie fell asleep for a little bit, too.  She will admit that the first time when Joe approached her and asked, in a VERY LOUD WHISPER, if she was awake, she played possum.  But the second time, when he asked if she was awake while hugging her, she gave up the act.  He was terribly patient.

He was also a very good sous.  He put the cupcake wrappers in the pan, put all of the ingredients in the bowl, got the mixer out, managed the mixer, and helped count out chocolate squares for the frosting.  He didn't realize at first that we were making frosting, but when he found out, he asked if he could help.  When Julie told him, "You bet," you'd have thought she's just told him that Santa Claus was coming to dinner: "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  YIPPEE!!!!!  I get to make frosting!"

But the time the cupcakes were cool, and the frosting had set up, Birdie had woken up from her nap and wandered out.  So she assisted with topping the cupcakes with the M&Ms.  Birdie's technique was to ram each M&M she had gotten a hold of down on to the cupcake, lick the frosting off her fingers, then put her paw down in the jar again, and repeat. Julie didn't realize Birdie's modus operadi until it had been repeated several times.  Thus followed a lesson in the benefits of a lighter touch.  And so it all began, and ended, with the M&Ms.

Cupcake Wars

Well, Fans.  The day was bookended by tantrums. Julie took the bambini to Yum!, as promised, for dinner.  All was going reasonably well until the end of the meal when Julie purchased a cupcake to share.  Joe wanted his own and you know, Fans, Julie can appreciate that, but it's not the call she made tonight and it's certainly not a call she was going to go back on in the wake of what unfolded.  By the time we left, everyone--everyone--who was dining at Yum! around about 6:15pm knew that Joe wanted his own because he kept screaming, "I WANT MY OWN!" He started not long after Julie gave Clara a third of the cupcake, and kept it up as Julie got a to-go container for the rest of it; wiped Clara down after she'd finished her third; got Clara into her coat, hat, and mittens; dragged--dragged--Joe out to the car (sans coat, hat, and mittens); and lifted him, thrashing, into the car.  Julie had parked in the street along the windows so these last moments were like an encore to the main performance the other Yum! patrons had just witnessed inside the restaurant.  The main performance probably lasted less than three minutes because Julie made the decision to leave pretty quickly after Joe's first screamed "I WANT MY OWN!", and it was solidified when he pounded the table hard enough that the screams were punctuated by the utensils clattering, but of course, it felt like an eternity.  Julie considered stuffing Clara's cupcake covered hands into her coat sleeves, but that would have just mandated a load of laundry tonight.  About the only lucky break we caught was that we happened to be at the table that is right next to the door, so Joe didn't have to be dragged screaming through the restaurant, between tables and other diners.

He screamed the whole way home, pounding on the windows of the car.  He kept it up into the house and all through bath time.  He screamed about not having his coat on, having to remove his own shoes, needing more food ("PUH-LEASE!  I. NEED. FOOD!"), not getting to take a bath, for Daddy, and for Teddy (Bear), but always he came back around to "I WANT MY OWN!"

By the time Clara was in her pajamas and ready to read books, Joe had quieted down enough to hear Julie when she said that if could pack it in and get his pajamas on, he could read books with Clara and Mommy, all of which he did.  After Clara went to bed, Julie had to break the news that we wouldn't be going back to Yum! until at least after Christmas, and probably not any other restaurants, because Joe had made such poor choices tonight.  Joe just took it.  He looked awful, probably felt awful, and frankly, Julie felt awful, too.  The only silver lining she can find is that she didn't lose her temper or raise her voice.

The rest of the cupcake didn't taste good at all.

This Morning

Good morning, Fans!  We write at this early hour to bring you breaking news.  Something else Julie makes sure to do when Ted is traveling is to get herself up early, so that she can get herself together before the bambini wake up.  This morning, she wandered downstairs at bit before 5:15am, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard panting in the living room.  It was Our Hero, who had woken up even earlier, made his way in to the living room, turned on the lights on the Christmas tree and was enjoying some early morning solitude, pretending to be an excited puppy.  After snuggling for a bit, Julie went about her business, and Joe, his.  (Joe's business in the later half of the top half of the five o'clock hour was making a copy on the printer, which he recently learned how to do and is now all the rage.)  At 5:36am, Julie was getting dressed, and Clara appeared beside her.  She got herself busy with some office supplies, too, namely, the scissors.  She is not yet so handy with the scissors, so she had them pointed toward her face.  Julie tried to tell Clara that scissors cannot ever, ever be pointed toward one's face, but you know, you can't tell Birdie how it is.  So Julie took the scissors away and the morning's first fit began.  But Julie felt she was on solid ground so she went about her business which, conveniently, was getting the bambini's clothes out--downstairs.

Joe followed her, but when he saw his clothes being taken out of his cupboard, he said in a tremulous voice, "But I want it to be a pajama day."  Julie explained that today was picture day and so Ms. Leah hadn't told us that today was a pajama day.  The morning's second--and simultaneous!--fit began.  Good times, Fans.  Good.  Times.  It was not yet even six o'clock.

Eventually, everyone calmed down.  Clara tried the scissors again, yogurt was eaten, Berenice was let out, and both kids are dressed for picture day.  Joe asked they could have their picture in front of the Christmas tree.  It's sort of a toss up for the best of the bunch.  So many contenders.  We're calling it a two-way tie for first place.

Never Would Forget

We also, as we've written here, like to dance in the car.  Of late, Taylor Swift's new album has been on a pretty much continuous loop.  On the way home from My Burger tonight, the penultimate song of the album, Starlight, was on, and Julie was swinging her head along, when she glanced into the review mirror, and saw Clara's little head, in her winter hat, bopping along, too.  Of course it was, Brigade, because Clara's whole air--her vibe--is like driving on a summer day, warm enough to roll the windows down, and one of your favorite songs comes on the radio, and you crank it up as you think "Yes!"

Oh my, what a marvelous tune
It was the best night, never would forget how we moved
The whole place was dressed to the nines, and we were dancing, dancing
Like we're made of starlight, starlight

Taylor Swift
from Starlight

Shout Out to Daddy

Ted left on a business trip tonight, and when Ted is out of town, Julie likes to take the bambini out for dinner.  That way, she doesn't have to cook dinner while someone asks if she can draw Lightening McQueen, or someone else stands in front of the refrigerator rearranging the magnets, or Berenice paces around waiting for something magical to happen like the backdoor and the gate being left open.  Also, there are no dishes.  Julie has revealed this strategy to some other parents who think she is sort of crazy--a four-year-old and a two-year-old?  In a restaurant?  No other adult reinforcements?  But Joe and Clara are better behaved in a restaurant than they are the bathtub, and taking them out to dinner means one is better prepared to face them in the bath which can often end in one bellowing, "SHAPE UP!" and frankly, sometimes it's Joe or Clara imitating Julie or Ted and then laughing uproariously.  Clearly, the bambini are winning on the bath front.

So we headed to My Burger (or, Your Burger, as Clara calls it) for dinner.  It was touch a go for a moment as Julie was placing their order.  She'd left the bambini at a table wriggling out of their coats.  Clara got out of her chair for help, and by the time she got back, Joe had moved into her chair.  Julie asked Joe to get out of Clara's chair, which he informed Julie wasn't fair.  Julie ignored him which led him to mutter that "it wasn't fair" over and over.  That's when she said that Joe had two choices: we could leave and he could keep grumbling about "it" not being fair in the car on the way home and while Julie made eggs for dinner or, he could pack it up and eat a cheeseburger.  He decided to eat a cheeseburger.  Thank goodness because besides the aforementioned strategy, Julie has been all about onion rings lately and she was really looking forward to them.

When we eat out, there's often music playing and sometimes, we dance in our seats to it.  That's what we were doing tonight when Julie began shooting this video, but it was right about then that the bambini again noticed the almost full moon so instead of dancing, you get some interesting color commentary from the Professor on the moon, as well as some whining, and french fry eating.  It's a slice of life feature!  See if you can discern where we are going to dinner tomorrow night!

Oh Come All Ye Faithful, and Cheetahs, and Rabbits, and Ducks, and Snake Charmers. . .

Fans, those of you who have been with us a long time (at least a year anyway), know that if the Christmas tree is up, then the creche is not long behind.  The creche (or "crate," as Joe was calling it for a while) was reassembled today with now usual areas recreated: angel choir, the jungle, the desert, the meadow, the farm, and the woodland area, this last again replete with a blue construction paper lake.  (The tee pee remains on its shores; the Snake Charmer is naturally to be found in the desert.)  Bethlehem is somewhere in the middle.  All of these areas are necessary because we--clearly--have a more expansive definition of creche here at Raleigh House, and we welcome two new members to the gang each season.  One is selected by Our Hero, and the other by Our Birdie.  Putting up the creche of course offers an opportunity to talk about The True Meaning of Christmas, so Ted asked Joe a few questions about the creche, and Christmas.  When Joe came up empty, Ted reminded him that the creche was to do with someone's birthday and asked if Joe remembered whose.  Joe's response: "Uncle Scott."

Fans, we will not keep you in suspense.  This holiday season we welcome with wonder to the creche the cheetah selected by Joe, and the rabbit, chosen by Clara.  The baby Jesus never had it so good--for real.

A New Day

Today was a big day at Raleigh House, Fans: Joe woke up, and didn't cry and wail for Mommy and Daddy because he didn't know if it was "wake-up time."  Instead, he got out of bed; told Clara she didn't need to be crying, she could get up, too; went into the living room; turned on the lights on the Christmas tree; turned on the lamp; and was all set to settle into who knows what, when Julie dashed downstairs because she heard a crash.  The crash turned out to be Clara's new baby doll's head hitting the floor.

Off and on for a while now, we have been talking with Joe about not crying when he wakes up because he thinks he can't get up, and that he is, in fact, old enough to get himself up, patter on out of his room, and make his way into the living room to play quietly.  We have had corollary discussions about reserving crying for when we are hurt, or sad, or particularly scared, for example.  It's tricky--we are trying to teach Joe and Clara to think for themselves, but they are four and two, so there is still necessarily a lot of bright line rule issuance which might be making murky the think for yourself lesson.  So time will tell if this morning's events become commonplace, but Joe seemed to like the taste he had of owning his own power.  The face he had on when Julie found him and Clara looked a little something like this one (which was taken shortly before Joe had pretty much nothing but cranberry sauce--"raspberry sauce" as he keeps calling it--for his Thanksgiving Day dinner--it is really good, and also made of cranberries).

Backward Birdie

A few weeks ago at the Little Gym, Teacher Katie showed Clara and her fellow Beasts how to walk backward.  Birdie quickly had this whole walking backward thing nailed, and it is clear that she can't understand why we don't all motor around backward.  Before she struts her backward stuff, Birdie will look at you all, "I'm gonna rock it like MJ here with a moonwalk.  Why don't you watch and take some notes."  On Thanksgiving Day morning, when we went to the Mall of America for the Walk Against Hunger, Birdie did a few stretches backward, charming many of her fellow walkers.  But that was actually nothing compared to what she did this morning.

Two of Joe and Clara's three great great aunts were able to come over this morning for brunch.  We decided to let Joe and Clara eat at their little white table in the living room.  Julie stepped over one of the chairs on her way to the dining room with some place mats and napkins, brought her foot down too quickly, and smacked her toes pretty good on the top of that chair.  She had just tossed the place mats and napkins on the table and was in the kitchen on her way to the basement for something else, when Clara padded in and said "I going give you a hug.  You o-kay?"  Oh Brigade.  You can't get much sweeter, can you?  Julie said she was o-kay, that is was just a little owie.  Clara said, "You need Band-Aid?"  She and Joe will use any excuse--or none at all--to get some medical bling, so no doubt, she was mystified when Julie declined the Band-Aid.

That's when she looked and Julie, and smiling--and never looking away--slowly started walking backward down the hallway until she was in front of the bathroom, at which point she turned, and exited, backward, into the living room.  It was pretty smooth.

Here is a clip of Clara jumping, walking back ward, and being silly.  She does all of this while gripping chop sticks in her hand.  Julie was worried the whole time she was filming Birdie, and in fact, the clip ends with Clara falling after jumping in--where else?!--the bathroom.  Notice how Birdie decides that the bathroom is the room for jumping.  What is it about acting like monkeys in the smallest room of the house that is wall to wall--literally--hard surfaces?

The Day Before We Put Up the Christmas Tree

Well, Fans, another Thanksgiving (or as we might as well think of it around here, The Day Before We Put Up the Christmas Tree) has come and gone.  Joe and Clara ate cranberry sauce, pickles, olives, and other assorted crudite, while the rest of us also had your more traditional Thanksgiving feast fare.  It was all but a prelude to the following day on which we put up the Christmas tree.

We began early with the first orders of business: running the vacuum around the living room and moving the toy cubbies to the porch.  Then, Julie and the bambini decamped to the couch to watch as Ted brought the tree into the living room and unfurled it.  After the tree was unfurled, of course, it was time to trim it.  Until the bambini were told they had two choices (build a fort upstairs or in their room or build a fort upstairs or in their room), the process was a study in well-meant but crazy-making exuberance.  Picture Birdie grabbing a small crystal train and waving it about while saying, "Choo choo!  Choo choo!"  Picture Joe flinging himself onto the couch in excitement only to kick the tree each time he did it.  Do you have the picture, Fans?

Grandma Connie tried to control the simmering chaos by asking the bambini to hand her ornaments of various colors but you know it, too, Fans: hanging the ornaments is where it's at, and so this whole surrendering of the ornaments to someone else to hang was only going to last for so long.  Birdie merrily strung ornament after ornament on a string of lights which is exactly what Joe did last year when he and Clara helped before Ted executed an extraction to an indoor playground.  One can, of course, simply reposition ornaments, but our elves were working their festive magic too quickly to keep others' spirits bright, so the Fort Diversion of 2012 was hatched.

By lunchtime, the bambini had built a fort and Julie and Grandma Connie had the tree fairly well along.  After arriving back downstairs, the elves were instantly back in the tree trimming game.  Julie decreed that everyone had to take turns, even Grandma Connie.  Taking turns saw us through to lunch time, after which Joe was going swimming in Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles' hotel's pool while Clara napped.  It turns out that one of the handful of things better than trimming a Christmas tree is swimming in your grandparents' hotel's pool.

As soon as Clara was down for her nap, and Joe had been carted off to swim, Grandma Connie and Julie stepped it up, and finished up.  Fans, they even had time to sit and admire their handiwork and chat with glasses of wine.  It's not Christmas yet, but it felt like a Christmas miracle.

Cleaning Brigade

Excitement just barely contained.

Grandma Connie tries to pass on tree trimming know-how: interior ornaments are hung first.

Birdie goes her own way: interior shminterior.

Have goggles, will swim.

This birdie ornament?  This birdie ornaments wants to fly!  Fly high!

Note feet well under the tree.  What could wrong here?

Turkeys

'Tis the season to make turkeys from one's handprint, which is just what Our Hero has been doing a lot of lately.  Yesterday, Julie arrived home to find him in the midst of cutting one out (How wackadoodles is it that the kid has enough dexterity now to cut around turkey finger-feathers?!).  He was nearly done which meant he was soon on to affixing it to the wall with tape.  Recently, Julie showed him how you can roll the tape over on itself, sticky side out so one can stick it to the back of something, hiding the tape when one affixes the item to the wall (or whatever).  Joe had given it a go, but the tape was peaking out and Julie sensed--by his wild pounding of it with the flat of his hand--that he might be getting frustrated.  (Julie would not recognize herself in the impulse to act this way.  At all.)  Help was offered and refused.  A minute or two later, Joe was standing back in the same spot looking a little bewildered and crushed.  Julie saw out of the corner of her eye that the turkey wasn't stuck to the door anymore and in an instant, even before Joe began wailing, she knew what had happened: he'd thrown the whole turkey away in a fit of frustration.  (Again, Julie wouldn't know a thing about it.)

Oh, Fans.  He was so sad!  All the more so because he seemed to sense he was the instrument of his own undoing!  You can just hear the interior monologue though, can't you?  "Why.  Won't.  You.  Just.  STICK.  TO.  THE.  WALL?????  Like I want you to!  Like you know you are supposed to!  You Turkey you!!!!!  ARGH!!!!!"  [Sounds of crumpling paper and slamming garbage drawers.]

They say you shouldn't let the turkeys get you down, but it happens.  We've all been there.  Sometimes you gotta pitch it in the garbage, have a good irrational cry about it, and try again.

Happy Thanksgiving, Fans.

Of Eyebrow Safety and Mines

Longtime Fans know that one of our favorite past times here at Raleigh House is cataloging the verbal gymnastics in which Joe and Clara engage as they learn how to express everything in their little minds and hearts with the language they have at the same time as they learn that language.  So we wanted to capture here that this past weekend, before heading out the door to swimming, Joe came out with the pronouncement that he would be putting on his sunglasses so his eyebrows didn't get burned off.  It was some powerful sun that morning, Fans.

Clara, for her part, the other night, was looking over Julie's shoulder as she paged through the latest American Girl catalog (which begins arriving the moment the American Girl Mother Ship discovers that a girl has been born unto the household--which is to say instantly), and bending over the table to press her cheek to a doll*, stated, "That's mines."  The singular possessive acquiring additional emphasis with what amounts to a phonetic possessive.  To the extent there is a conscious rationale (which of course there isn't) it might be, "Yours, his, and hers all have that s on the end, so what's up with that unadorned mine?  Let's slap an s on there and makes it mines all mines."

*We do not make this up Brigade.  She lay her cheek lovingly against the picture of the doll in the catalog.  The American Girl folks know the heart of this American Girl and, no doubt, American girls the land over.

Kitchen Enchantments

In our kitchen, we have a rolling butcher block with open shelves in which we keep, from top to bottom, root vegetables and measuring cups; oven mitts, aprons, and dish towels; cutting boards and, as it happens, a pizza lifter which will figure prominently in a moment.  Now and again, the bambini like to treat this open shelving unit as an annex of the cupcake kitchen.  Pretend food may be intermingled with the real food.  Oven mitts and aprons may be donned.  Almost certainly dish towels will be unfurled like so many rugs in a market place--indeed, they are often called rugs as they are unfurled.  Cutting boards will be ferried from the kitchen to the living room.

Rug Man with his wares

The other night, the bambini's imaginations led them to the cupcake kitchen annex.  Joe claimed his usual turkey apron, while Clara put on not one, but two aprons.  Thus outfitted, they set about unpacking the annex.  Clara was most industrious, until she happened upon the pizza lifter.  The pizza lifter resides beneath al of the cutting boards in the very bottom bin.  Usually, it is not reached because of the distraction presented by other delights.  (So many "rugs" to unfurl and really, so little time.)  For whatever reason, Monday night was different.  Clara was enchanted with the pizza lifter or, more accurately, her reflection, which she could make appear and disappear, of course, depending on how she held the pizza lifter.  "I up!  I down!"

Well what have we here?!  A magic mirror?!

Hello, Gorgeous.

Look everyone!

There you are again, Gorgeous!