Five Years Ago Today

Fans!  Today is a fun anniversary: five years ago today, we learned that Joe was on the inside.  In other words, Julie took a home pregnancy test and saw two pink lines.  She was in Texas--San Antonio--for work, and Ted was flying down to join her the next day in Austin.  So, no, it's true: she did not wait until the next day when Ted was with her to take the test.  As Ted said when Julie called him to tell him she was pregnant, "You couldn't have waited a day?"  After three years of marriage, didn't he know?!  Julie never met a surprise she wasn't trying to figure out as soon as possible.  October 30, 2007 was the first day she could know, and know she would.  But it's hard to be upset at your beloved when you realize that there's A BABY ON THE INSIDE!!!!!  OF HER!!!!!

Did we realize then that life would never be the same?  How can you, really?  You don't know what you don't know.  How much there is to look forward to, how much your heart can hold.

We had a great lunch here at the Hill Top Cafe, that would have been even better if the fried whatever it was that the folks next to us got hadn't made Julie a little queasy because JOE WAS ON THE INSIDE!

Halloween Brings Mail, Sealed With Tape

Halloween has brought a rash of Halloween cards and packages to the bambini.  Things have arrived from Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles; Aunt Kate, Uncle Scott, and Cousin Nick; Great Great Aunt Shirley; Great Great Aunt Susie; and Grandpa Tom and Lynn.  Today, Joe and Clara both got cards from Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles.  These cards were the kind that play music (or spooky laughter) when they are opened.  The bambini love getting these kinds of cards from their Grandparents Trump.  Now, this kind of card is a little fatter than your usual card.  Julie chuckled to herself when Joe approached her with his card tonight and said he needed some help opening it because it had tape on it.  Julie shared with him that Grandma Connie was a huge fan of tape (and staples, but Julie saved that for a later day).  Joe said, "Oh!  I didn't know that!" and Julie said, "Well, she is.  It's her tell."  You know, Joe's a big fan of tape, too.  So now he knows there's another one out there.  And she's a relation!

Keen-eyed observers will note the presence of additional packing tape on the envelope Clara is holding. There's no telling who these were from. . .or is there?  ( ;) I love you,  Momsie!)

Bat-bini

Slower Than Molasses in January

One of the best things about living with a four-year-old and a two-year-old is getting to listen to their acquisition of language--hearing them try out new words in the wrong way, and then work around to the right way; listening to them string words together in way that make no sense and then, later, do; and, especially, listening to them try out slang.  Joe's latest fixation in this last category is "slower than molasses in January."  His seat belt's giving him trouble?  Must be because it's slower than molasses in January.  His concrete mixer truck pieces aren't coming together just so?  Well they're slower than molasses in January.  Joe hasn't quite got the context piece of this crazy fun expression worked out?  Probably won't take as long as molasses in January before he's got it.

"A Smart Dude"

Tonight, we had a parent-teacher conference with Joe's teacher, Mr. Mark.  Those who know Our Hero well will perhaps not be surprised to learn that he knows all his letters and the sounds that most of them make (H and Q are hard) and can recognize patterns, colors, shapes, and the numbers 1 to 10.  But did you know that Joe rocks a pair of scissors?  Well, he does.  Apparently, the powers that be at the KinderCare put smiley faces on top of the kids' thumbs and it's thumbs up time to see the smiley faces when the kids are cutting with scissors.

Fans, frankly, we didn't learn anything we didn't already know: Joe likes to learn, he's kind, and he's easily influenced.  So the bad news--for now--is that he doesn't always think for himself.  It's not so much that he sometimes makes bad choices, it's that he doesn't often make his own choices.  Fans, we have a follower!  This, we knew.  The good news is "he's a smart dude," and so hopefully, he'll come more and more to think for himself and not follow when someone else is climbing up the slide today and bashing in mailboxes with a bat tomorrow.  Joe is also, apparently, friendly with everyone.  He's got some really good buddies, but he plays with all the other kids, even those who don't necessarily have their own little pack.  And so, there's one choice right there that seems to be his own, and it's solid.

The Monkeys Visit the Monkeys

This morning, we took Joe and Clara in their monkey costumes to visit other animals at the zoo.  We had decided to visit the farm animals before the bambini decided to go in costume, and the farm animals were being much discussed.  Otherwise, we would have made a circuit of all the zoo's monkeys.  It had been a while since we'd visited the farm animals though.  The last time we did, Clara was on the inside, and made her appearance about a week later.  On our way to the farm this time, we saw the flock of turkeys that parade around there.  They beat a hasty retreat from our two monkeys.  Can you imagine, Fans?!  We learned that the farm animals are also not keen on being outside when it's below 40 degrees.  This, Fans, you probably can imagine.  Instead they like to snuggle or play in the barns.  We saw pigs snuggling and goats and chickens playing.  The bambini tamed the hay bale maze and climbed on the tractor, too, before we decided to head back and see the monkeys by the entrance before heading from home via Noodles for lunch, which is where we usually go after visiting the zoo.  That was where Joe, ever sociable, greeted some other diners who then complimented his and Clara's monkey costumes.  That's when he informed them that Clara was "a usual monkey"--as opposed to Curious George.  The Usual Monkey and her Curious Sidekick are up to their usual Sunday evening monkey business, by which we mean tearing about, giggling, and screeching.  In other words, it's a zoo.

The Monkeys prepare to take the zoo by storm.

The Curious Monkey.

On the turkeys' trail. . .

Hello, Goat.

The Usual Monkey by the Fake Pig.

We Go Bananas for Our Monkeys

Well, Fans, All Hallow's Eve is upon us.  Joe will be dressing up as a monkey (Curious George to be precise), and Clara will also be dressing up as a monkey because, well, monkey see, monkey do.  When discussing costumes a few weeks ago, Joe announced his intent to be a monkey, and turned to Clara and said something like, "Clara, do you want to be a monkey?" to which Clara replied, "Yeah."  Knowing monkey costumes could be easily acquired, we did not rock the monkey boat.  Whether Ted was, even then, already thinking about dressing up as a banana, this reporter cannot say.  But it is true that in addition to two monkey costumes, a pair of banana costumes have also been procured.

Yesterday, the banana that works at Target and the monkeys went to a Halloween party that Ted's group had again this year.  They decorated their office space and, according to Joe and Clara anyway, had some sort of activity involving throwing candy in a bucket and eating candy.  They also got to color in the conference room and, they got plastic vampire teeth.  Joe promptly bit Julie when she arrived home. Mu-wah-ha-ha-ha!

Getting Dressed

So we hear tales of girls, especially, becoming rather particular about what clothes they wear.  So far though, Joe and Clara wear the clothes that Julie (usually) lays out for them each morning.  Joe does still selects his underwear, but doesn't seem to care what covers this foundational garment.  He will almost always put his socks on before removing his pajamas and the underwear he wore to bed (and which, in point of fact, is still clean having been worn only to bed and slept in), and so it is not uncommon for Julie to look up from dressing Clara and see him motoring around the bambini's room in nothing but socks.  Or he night be in socks and his pajama shirt.  Or socks and the pair of underwear he has selected for the day.  But he starts at the bottom and works his way up, and while it may take him seemingly five hours to get dressed, he can dress himself, top to bottom (or, in his case, bottom to top), with no assistance.  It's been a long time since he has even put a shirt on backwards.

Despite Clara's ambition and independence, she still needs assistance getting dressed, though she will often try to do the socks herself and is increasingly successful.  She stands on a green circle near her bed, and Julie sits on Clara's bed.  When it's time to put on socks, she sits on a yellow circle that is slightly further away from the bed.  What's fun about dressing Clara is that when it's done, Julie looks at her and says, "You look good!" while Clara looks at Julie and says, "I look good!"  Then, Clara tears off to announce something  to Ted.  Usually the announcement is about that day's look:
"I got pockets!" (she loves pockets)
"I got trees!" (she has a shirt with trees on it--incidentally, her friend Sylvia has the same shirt)
"I got purple!"
"I got stripes!"
"I got flowers!"
"I got ponies!"
"I got barrettes!"

It's better than superhero underwear and ponies.

Birdie, with pockets, in the tree shirt--and barrettes.  Purple socks.

Triple Triumph

Dearest Readers, we had a triple triumph here at Raleigh House the night before last.  We'd gotten home, and were piling out of our shoes and wrappings.  Julie asked Joe to close the door, but no sooner were the words out of her mouth than Clara, presumably wanting the chance to be helpful, began crying and dived for the door.  Joe started crying because Clara's crying is really awfully loud, and because he didn't get to shut the door.

This is where Julie's impulse anyway would usually be to say to Clara, "What gives?" as she thinks "Why?  Why?  Really?  Who cares who SHUTS THE DOOR? It's done, and yet, it's not now. . ." and so on.  But then, the first triumph occurred: Joe drew himself up, looked at Clara and said, "NO THANK YOU CLARA!"  Fans!  Yes!  Right?!  This triggered the second triumph: Julie knelt down and began gushing to Joe about how great it was that he'd used his words instead of crying, and about how he'd had such attitude while he did it, and how proud she was.  And in no time, no one was crying!  The final triumph!  Joe was getting attention for being amazing, smiling and puffed up with pride; no one was yelling at Clara, confusing her for having tried to be helpful; and Julie felt like an example you read about in a parenting magazine feature called something like "Taming Those Transitions!"  It was awesome, Fans.

It's a Birdie

It's parent-teacher conference season!  Tonight, we met with one of Clara's teachers, Ms. Manisha, and here is what we learned: one of Clara's favorite toys is a hooded towel.  Every morning, Clara and her friend Sylvia can be found wrapped in hooded towels toting baby dolls around the room.  After two circuits, they apparently pick up a backpack each, and then continue to circumnavigate the room.  After two more passes, they add toys to the backpacks.  We are familiar with this fascination with filling up and toting a backpack.  (The hooded towels are hung rather high at home.)  The word Ms. Manisha most often used to describe Birdie was confident.  Our Girl will tell you how it is.  Apparently, the other day, at group time, when the group was less than focused, Ms. Manisha deliberately misidentified a country (they are learning countries and those coutries' flag) and it was Clara who told Ms. Manisha that Ms. Manisha was wrong: "No, Ms. Manisha.  That's not Haiti.  NOT HAITI!"  So Our Birdie is confident, and yet, she does not always make her own choices, but instead, is sometimes led down an apparent primrose path by more nefarious influences.  At such times, Ms. Manisha tells us that she pulls Clara nearer to her, or holds out her two hands for Clara to hold, and will say to Birdie, "What are you doing?  Are you using your brain?" Then, the eager-to-please Clara will correct her course, though just who has who in the palm of her hand is less clear.  Ms. Manisha is some kind of teacher, but then, Our Birdie, as we know, Dear Readers, is some kind of Birdie.

Joe Has a Guest Reader--Mommy!

Last week, Julie went and read to Joe's class at afternoon group time.  Fans, it was a trip!  Julie arrived to find the group already assembled.  Guest readers sit in the teacher chair, while the Pre-K-ers sit on the floor in front of the chair.  Joe was at the back edge of the group.  It was clear he'd been waiting for Julie to arrive.  When she opened the door, his head popped up right over a toy shelf that serves as a boundary to the group time area.  Oh Fans.  You'll just have to imagine it, but Julie took a picture with her heart.  What a face!  What light in the smile.

Julie had brought The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything, which Joe and Clara's Great Aunt Susie had sent us around this time last year.  For those unfamiliar, it features a little old lady who is met by the various pieces of a scarecrow--shoes, pants, shirt, gloves and hat, jack-o-lantern head--which try to scare her.  It was a seasonal and interactive pick, with which the group was familiar, and thus, they were most interactive.  Julie had also brought One Dog Canoe.  She thinks this might have been new to them, but she's not sure.  In One Dog Canoe, a girl sets off with her dog in a canoe and various animals hop in until the whole thing capsizes.  It's hilarious if you are four or five, and quietly amusing if you add thirty years or so.

The pre-K set, collectively, have no sense of personal space, so they slowly inched forward, over and around and on top of one another if necessary, a monolithic, squirmy mass.  "Sit on your bottom," was perhaps the most common refrain.  The foot that was in front of Julie when she began reading had, by the time she had finished, been reduced to about a quarter of an inch.  But they were rapt.  And so was Julie.

L Is For Love, and Lucky

One of the best things Ted ever did was make a compilation of a lot of the songs there were played at our wedding.  Now and again, we play it from the top as we did tonight.  The first Hallmark moment was cued up when Clara grabbed a cow bell, and got Julie the rain stick, just as My Girl came on, positioning herself in the middle of the dance floor (also known as the living room) just like Julie, right next to Julie, oriented just the same way.  Some of our Fans will know this is the song to which Julie danced with her dad on her wedding day, and it will no doubt come as no surprise to any of our Fans that Julie was more than a little caught up dancing with her girl--our girl--to this song.  (It will no doubt also come as no surprise to you all to know that the cow bell added a lot to the song.  The Temptations missed the boat on that one.)  By the time we were setting down to dinner, we were up to the first song to which Julie and Ted danced, and then the last song of the night, which brought us another Hallmark moment.  As that song began, Joe said, "Oh!  I know!  I have heard this song before!  It's New York New York New York."  Fans, that was almost eight years ago now.  Can you believe it?  Eight years. Almost.  And now here we are, the two of us, plus two more (and the Boo), dancing at a dining room table in Minnesota on a Friday night pizza night.

Also tonight, on the way home, somehow, we got started on a round of the made-up, reoccurring game we play around here in which we try to think of words that begin with a particular letter.  Tonight's first letter was L.  We came up with lots (though not lots!): lake, lollipop, lemon, loop, look, laugh, leaf, love.  This last set Clara off saying, "I love you and love you and love you and love you," more of a free association spin on the game.  By the time we were pulling up to the alley, Joe said, "I know!  Let's do S!  I have a really good S word."  We won't keep you in suspense: it was steam.  The last L word had been locomotive, from Ted.  Joe!  Free associating within the confines of the new letter!  Sophisticated!

As we pulled into the garage, Ted said, "shovel," to which Clara replied, "bucket."  Joe told her we were doing S words.

L is for love, and love, and love, and love. . .and lucky, and lucky, and lucky, and lucky.

Not really a Hallmark moment.  Where was the luck?!  Seriously.  We take a lot of pictures to bring you what you usually see here.  This is a representative outtake, for your amusement.

He Is Also a Charming Conversationalist

Joe also continues to work on his conversation skills. He always has lots to say and so we have been teaching him to wait for lulls in the conversation to speak, instead of interrupting others.  One morning last week, when we were driving to school, Joe said something that Julie didn't catch, so she said, "What, Bud?"  Joe replied matter-of-factly that he was talking to Clara.  Julie replied that she realized that, but was trying to join in the conversation.  Joe paused there in the backseat and then said "Oh!  I didn't know that!"

Professor Joe Explains It All

Joe is full of questions these days, but very often, his questions are rhetorical and as such, rather revelatory.  For example, on the way to school the other morning, when we were discussing school generally with Joe, as well what color the traffic light was and just what that meant with Clara, Joe was suddenly roaring off on this train of thought: ". . .learn a lot of stuff in college.  Like what goes down the drain and what you don't know like that?"  Right.

This afternoon, he asked what happened in hospitals--probably because we passed an ambulance earlier  this week and Clara burst out with "An ambulance!" which prompted Joe to say it was going to a house and one of us to add that it might be going to the hospital, too.  So this afternoon, Julie said that all kinds of things happened in hospitals: women had babies; broken legs, and arms, and toes, and fingers got fixed; and sometimes things inside called organs got fixed. . .This is where Joe broke in to add, "If your eyebrow gets cut off, they can fix it at the hospital?"  Yup.

But there are other times where Our Hero believes he has already got it all tacked down.  Times like yesterday afternoon when the celebrity demi-goddess sitters came over to watch the bambini while we went to the Minnesota-Northwestern football game.  Joe gave the girls a complete rundown: "If you want to take a shower, it's over here.  This is the fan.  You only turn the fan on when you take a shower, not a bath."  Apparently, when Ted was showing the girls where the milk and butter were for making macaroni and cheese, Joe let them know that the "adult beverages" were on the lower shelf of the fridge.  The celebrity demi-goddesses are in high school, but now they know where to take a shower, after they've maybe had an adult beverage, and that's a load off.  Check.

Of Tantrums. . .Sigh

Brigade, as you know, it is our practice to snuggle a bit with the bambini before plunging into the day.   It is also our practice to change Clara out of her Pull-Up and into a pair of underwear.  Often Clara likes to toss the Pull-Up in the garbage by herself, and her scampering off to do so is one signal that snuggle time is over.  Tuesday morning, Clara padded down the hallway with the Pull-Up, tossed it, and then came tearing back down the hall. . .and promptly pitched herself on her bed and burst into tears.

Dearest Readers, we think we can all agree that a tantrum is always a drag, but none more so than the tantrum that occurs while one is trying to execute the morning routine that--and here, of course, comes the critical part--occurs in advance of leaving the house for school and work.  They are enough to make you want to pitch yourself on your bed and sob inconsolably, and with renewed vigor should anyone have the temerity to remind you that breakfast is occurring right now and not held for you until you work it out so you'd best pull it together if you are hungry.

Practically every day this week has been marked by a terrific tantrum, and not just at home it would seem, as Thursday, we arrived to the bambini's school to this note explaining Birdie's swollen lip: "Clara  was throwing a tantrum, tipped over in the chair she was sitting in, and bit her upper lip, causing it to bleed."  (The upside here is that between the lip, and the bruise on her eyelid from when she clocked her head on a coffee table Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles'--while pitching a fit--she looks like a real tough.)

Second only to the tantrum that occurs during the getting-ready-to-leave-the-house fanfare are the tantrums that occur in advance of getting into the car.  What makes these tantrums especially sigh-inducing, is that it is our practice not to begin driving the car until Clara has packed it in and this, as you might expect Brigade, can take some time.  Such was the case yesterday evening.  We had made a trip to The Container Store where, as it happens, the establishment next door has a fire pit ringed with some chairs where we rested and warmed up before heading for home.  It was lovely, Brigade, on so chilly and soggy a day as we had here yesterday, but if you are thinking that Birdie pitched a fit because we were leaving, think again.  (Remember, you must toss logic to the wind!)

No, Birdie pitched a fit because she got called on the old no-I-don't-want-to-yes-I-do! trick.  Julie asked Clara to hold her hand as we headed to the parking lot.  Clara said no, and so Julie simply picked Clara up, at which point Clara began screaming that she wanted to walk.  She thrashed and kicked to underline her point.  Julie informed Clara that she could make a different choice next time, and underlined her point by carrying Clara to the car in what Julie thinks of as the lock down hold (child slung across chest with one arm pinning child's arms and the other arm pinning child's legs).  Clara was dumped into her car seat, wrestled into the straps, and buckled in, and then there we sat, chatting, pretending to care not at all--not at all!--that we weren't headed home to dinner and that our ears didn't hurt from Birdie wailing in such close quarters.  The old no-I-don't-want-to-yes-I-do! trick is one of the oldest tricks in the book and here, Brigade, can we pause to ask why?  We think we can all agree that this trick is the worst and should be retired.

And so we have made it to another Sunday.  We're off to change the Bird out of her Pull-Up.  We'll see how it goes.

To Chicago and Back Again

Travelers

Fans!  We have been on a mini fall vacation to Chicago to visit Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles, the former of whom has been retired now for a little over a week!  So, really, we were in Lake Forest, but who's splitting hairs?  Not us!  Not with Mr. 50 Thousand Questions busy nailing down all the subtleties of the world, like the difference between Chicago and its environs.

It was clear that Joe and Clara thought Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles' house was awesome for several reasons:

1. Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles live there.  You can pound up the steps like a heard of elephants in the morning and pounce on them in their bed if they weren't already awakened by the veritable stampede, and then Grandma Connie allows you to take one of her fancy pillows all the way downstairs to show your mom while chanting "I got the pillow!  I got the pillow!" in a sing song voice that suggested to Julie she should make like she was jealous.

2.  Joe and Clara got to sleep together on the pull-out couch with the giraffes, Pink Bear, and Teddy who had made the journey as well.

3.  The place is filled with a LOT of breakable things!  Specifically, pottery. Even more specifically, a fair number of ceramic bowls filled with ceramic fruit, that one can lift out of said bowls for closer examination.  Many, many things requiring further attention and examination.

4.  The place is also filled with containers of potpourri or, if you like, funfetti!  The only thing better than potpourri in a bowl is potpourri out of a bowl and on the floor, funfetti-like.  Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles may notice that a ceramic (naturally) tiger bowl migrated to the coffee table in the den and that while it was once empty, it is now filled with potpourri.  (You're welcome.)

5.  Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles have a large jacuzzi tub.  The jets were too much for the bambini, but bathing every night in what amounted to a sunken Roman bath to them was most decidedly not.

It is also true that Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles' house is near a children's museum and Lake Michigan, both of which are highly entertaining.  It is also near Lamb's Farm which is a non-profit community that serves adults with developmental disabilities.  One of its attractions is a farmyard with super friendly animals and a miniature train that runs alongside it.  Lamb's Farm was entertaining as well, and probably would have been even more so had we not happened to be there on a cloudy morning which made for a chilly time visiting the animals and riding the train.  It was the same story as the lake the first time we went, but frankly, Julie at least noticed the chill less because she's pretty much a sucker for that lake at which she made lots of happy memories.  (It was chilly though; Grandma Connie had to go back and sit in the car.)

But we know what you are all wondering Fans.  How were the drives?!  Ted was a rock star.  He drove the whole way, both ways, so Julie could read.  Oh you meant the bambini.  Fans, they were rock stars, too!  Rock stars!  The examined all the treasures they'd packed into their little backpacks, they napped, they sang, asked if we were in Illinois/Minnesota yet, asked if we were in Illinois/Minnesota yet, asked if we were in Illinois/Minnesota yet, and maintained that we were going to be in the car FOREVER.  We had lunch at McDonald's both ways, and got candy when we stopped for gas.  (Joe selected Sixlets--yeah, when was the last time you had those, Fans?--on the way down, and M&Ms on the way back, kind of a pattern; Clara selected Hershey's Cookies 'n' Creme Bites on the way down and Snickers on the way back.)

And now we are back.  Back to school, back to work.  But Thanksgiving is already next month!  And we practiced telling each other things for which we were grateful at dinner one night this past weekend.  So we're set.

Bunkmates (Birdie sleeps in the Bird Sofa!)

Two heads are better than one

Little girl, big lake

O Captain, my captain

More Storms, More Rainbows

Birdie pitched another fit last night.  It all began when Birdie thought it would be hilarious to put her bowl on her head after she'd finished the macaroni and cheese that was in it.  The hilarity came to a screeching halt when the bowl, and what remained of her dinner (apple slices and milk), was summarily removed from the table.

The fit was exacerbated when Julie took a picture of Birdie who happened to remove her blindfold (a postcard from Teacher Katie of the Little Gym complimenting Clara on her enthusiasm at "the gym" last Saturday) as Julie finished taking the picture of Birdie and another of Joe.  It was hard to discern what the fresh tears and wails were about exactly, but it would seem that Birdie simply wanted her picture taken again, presumably when she could put on a more presentable visage.

We felt sorry for her, too.  But you can't wear your empty macaroni and cheese bowl as a hat in this world, and one has to resort to harsh tactics when handling those who are at an age at which they are inclined to disagree with this truism.

This is what Joe often does when Clara is crying--i.e. covers his ears and acts like it's the end of days.

Eventually Birdie settled down, was bathed, put in pajamas, and read to, only to tee off again when she was denied another book.  But here, Our Dear Readers, is when the rainbow appeared.  Joe didn't know why Clara was crying, only that she was, but figuring it must have something to do with going to bed, he told her this: "Night-night is fun because you get more energy and you get to see other days."

And so it is.  From the mouths of babes, yes?  Now, it's true that tonight brought a fresh fit when Julie entered the bambini's room to put some laundry away and left, ignoring the fact that Clara and Joe had been screeching at each other gleefully as Clara moved her menagerie from the top of her bed to the floor underneath Joe's bed.  I mean, really?  Can you believe that Julie had the temerity to ignore such misbehavior?!  The whole point of such misbehavior is to prompt a fit from at least one parent, if not two!  It's enough to make a Little Bird burst into tears, and her brother to start crying as well because his sister's crying is so loud.  Two wails are better vastly than one!  Never mind that one of them was prompted by loud wailing!  It doesn't need to make sense!  In fact, it is also vastly better if it does not make sense!

Night-night, Fans.  Until other days!

Listen for the Noises

This past weekend was the Harvest Moon, and it was really something to see here in Minnesota which was blessed with unseasonably warm days and nights, and clear skies.  After reading stories to Joe before bed on Sunday night, Julie asked Joe if he wanted to go outside and see it and was taken aback by Joe's reaction which was what you might expect if he'd just been asked if he wanted to sleep outside by himself with the squirrels.  Needless to say, we did not go moon viewing.

That same night, and every night since, Joe has requested that the door to the bambini's room be left open a crack after he has been tucked in for the night.  Julie spent much of her childhood spectacularly afraid of the dark and even today, will sleep with nearly every interior--and exterior--light on any night when Ted is away from home.  So, she both recognizes, and respects the fear.

She also remembers one thing that helped her when she was a child: listening to all the noises that the grown-ups who were still awake made in other rooms whose light spilled into her bedroom--her dad letting out the dog, her mom reading in bed, her grandparents watching Johnny Carson and Carol Burnett in their La-Z-Boys.  With any luck, she'd fall asleep before the grown-ups turned out the lights and turned in, too.

So last night, she told Joe that she had a secret to tell him, and then told him to listen for all the noises after Mommy and Daddy had left the room--and left the door open a big crack.  This morning, she asked Joe if he'd listened for the noises, and if it had helped.  He said he had, and it did, and Fans, it's tough to say who felt more proud, Joe or Julie.

Rainbow After the Storm

The Bambini, September 29

Last night, Birdie pitched a spectacular fit.  It all began, really, when we arrived home so late relative to dinnertime, bath time, and bedtime.  After bath time and after Clara is in her pajamas, she likes to find Julie, wherever Julie is, and then proceed together with Julie to the living room to read books.  It's best not to meet Birdie halfway or--heaven forbid--reach the living room first.  But it is also best not to rush Birdie.  With an exception now and then, Birdie moseys.  She's not much one for hustling.  Julie should have known better.

There the Birds were, heading.  Down.  The Stairs.  At.  The.  Pace.  At.  Which.  You.  Are.  Being.  Forced.  To.  Read.  This.  Sentence.  Brigade.  Julie was trying to hustle Clara along who was busy moseying, all of which culminated in Julie reaching the chair in the living room in which the Birds usually read first.  That's when Julie told Clara she was going to count to five and that Birdie needed to be in the chair by then.  Clara said "No!" and didn't moved from the third step for the whole count of five.  Naturally.  It wasn't long after that that all hell broke loose.  Clara--again, naturally--"WANNA READ BOOKS!!!!!" (her recalcitrance on the steps to the contrary).  She pulled two books out and pressed--gently tossed?--them at Julie who, at this point, was still sitting in the chair, mentally sighing and berating herself a bit for even making it an issue since the bambini's bedtime had already passed.  But, there we were: Julie in the chair with her head in her hands; Joe standing in front of her with his hands over his ears; and Clara, on the floor, wedged between the chair and the bookcase, kicking her feet and wailing.  Nothing to do but wait it out.

So Julie and Joe sat down on the couch and began the last few chapters of the first book in the Mercy Watson* series, which, he loved.  By its end, Clara had clambered up next to them, and was sitting quietly with two of her books, The Napping House and We're Going on a Bear Hunt.  When Julie gently told Birdie there was time only for one, Birdie merrily picked The Napping House--like moments before she hadn't been rolling and kicking and screaming all over the floor.

The Birds practice, at the end of The Napping House, is to name some of the things on the final page: rainbow, trees, house, and so on.  Last night, because the theme in Clara's room this month is "where I live," they tried windows, and roof.  Then, before Julie could get to chimney, Joe sallied forth with, "What shape is the roof, Clara?"  And Clara said, "Triangle."  And as Julie said, "Awesome!", Joe said, "You got it on the first try!"

What a rainbow after the storm.  The whole thing--that Clara worked herself right again on her own, that Joe asked about the shape of the roof, that Clara got it straight off, and that they were snuggled on either side of Julie as it all unfolded.

*By Minnesota author Kate DiCamillo, dedicated to her friend and other Minnesota author, Alison McGhee!

You Go-Go On With That Applesauce

Clara with the Go-Go Squeeze--and droopy end-of-day ponies

We arrived home later than is ideal last night which meant that we could not have "family dinner."  So, the bambini had breakfast for dinner: scrambled eggs, toast with jam, and applesauce.  The applesauce, however, was Go Go SqueeZ applesauce which comes in green pouches and is, as the name suggests, meant to be eaten on the go-go.  No matter as, to a four-year-old especially, it is fun-fun whether one is on the go or not.

What is also fun-fun is observing one's four-year-old lecturing his two-year-old sister on the finer points of eating something that requires squeezing while it is in one's mouth.  Here we pause to say that Clara has, from the get-go, understood that it's not a great idea to squeeze, say, a juice box or a milk container with a straw in them, when they are not in one's mouth.  Joe was slower to catch up to this idea.  So, really, it was kinda of hilarious last night to hear him tell Clara that she had to put the applesauce in her mouth and then squeeze, with the patronizing authority that one has at four.

Later, Joe pretended the applesauce was a rocket ("Five!  Four!  Three!  Two!  One!  Zero!  Ka-nition! Blast Off!"), but no doubt this action only increased the esteem in which Clara holds him.

Always Joe

As our longtime Fans know, Julie likes to chat with Joe after reading to him before he goes to bed.  Of late, we have been chatting about what to say in lieu of bursting into tears when someone does something that makes us sad, mad, or frustrated.  As our longtime Fans may also recall, what they say in the infant rooms at KinderCare is "No, thank you!" because, apparently, teachers are not permitted to say simply, "No!"  This kinder, gentler no is still used in some of the rooms for older kids, and is used by many parents, Julie and Ted included.

But, you know, Joe is a pre-kindergartner now, and your pre-kindergartner situations demand a pre-kindergartner script.  The necessity of some alternative phrases became evident when, on Friday evening, Joe relayed that a friend had labeled his show-'n'-share item "so stupid," and that he had said "No, thank you!" in response.  Well done, Joe!  But we felt that perhaps we could give him a bit more to work with, something equal to "so stupid."  So Friday night, we came up with:
No!
Stop it!
Quit it!
I don't like that!
That's mean!
Cut it off! (Joe's contribution)
Knock it off! (Joe's other contribution; and isn't he embracing slang in the most delightful way?!)

We discussed the necessity of tossing of these invectives with the appropriate attitude.  That is, that one cannot toss a "Cut it off!" out there while crying or giggling.  We practiced.  Julie told Joe she thought his pajamas were stupid, and Joe said "No thank you!" (through giggles) and stormed off.  Subsequent exchanges were better in the sense that Joe's pretended huffiness was not diminished by true laughter, though he did not experiment with alternative words.

Tonight, we asked Our Hero if anyone had made him sad or mad or frustrated, and had he cried?  In other words, had he had the chance to use his new words and did he?!  He had, and he did!  (Pre-K is a rough and tumble world.)  Alas, he fell back on "No, thank you."  It's a classic to be sure, but lacks the flair of, certainly, "Cut it off!" which is clearly the best of the bunch.  But words were spoken and no tears were shed.

After we'd hashed that all out, Julie relayed all she'd done at work today, which led Joe to ask what he was going to be when he grew up.  Fans.  Who can even wait to see?!  Joe stated that he would like to work where Daddy does--i.e. Target headquarters downtown.  Not a bad gig, not a bad gig.  He then asked if his name would always be Joe when he grew up.

Of course, he will always be Our Joe, Fans.  Which is just what we told him--before we reviewed that Mommy, Daddy, Joe, and Clara are all in each other's hearts, and asked Joe if he thought there was anyone in his belly button.