Joe Is Reunited With Dr. H

Joe had his four-year well-child check-up this afternoon with our beloved Dr. Harrington.  He's been talking about it for days.  When would we be going?  When exactly on Wednesday would we be going?  Was Clara coming too?  There were a lot of details to tack down.  The visit did not disappoint.  In addition to the usual weigh in (height: 41 1/2 inches (76%) and weight: 43 pounds (92%)), and the usual look see in the ears and eyes, and the usual listen to the heart and lungs, and the usual once over of the nether regions, there are some new things that are done now that Our Hero is four.  His reflexes were checked!  He also had his hearing checked as well as his vision.

Watching a four-year-old take vision and hearing tests are amusing.  They were billed as games he got to play with one of the nurses.  The games were to commence following Dr. Harrington's exam.  It took a bit of time for the nurse to come so Joe did what any self-respecting four-year-old would do: he hunkered down on the floor and kept an eye out for feet under the door.

A portion of the vision game required Joe to keep an object that screened one eye up over the bridge of his nose, and to identify the object he saw.

Joe kept lifting the eye screening thing up all, "Why are we doing this. . .?"  The hearing test was even better though.  He was asked to lift the hand on the side he heard the beep.  It wasn't long before both hands were up: "Both."  He hears the tone in both ears.

Not long after that, Joe looked solemnly at the nurse and said, "I'm all done."

We think the kid can see and hear well enough to make it to five.  Then, we'll see--we hope.

Hool, Agains (Again. . and Again, and Again, and Again. . .))

Speaking of hools, though Joe and Clara really do get on, our days are filled with charming vignettes like the one which unfolded tonight after dinner and before bath (prime time for hool behavior).  Julie was upstairs and heard Joe repeating incessantly in a singsong voice, "I'm on the potty!  I'm on the potty!  I'm on the potty!  I'm on the potty!" Repeat that about 15 more times in your head, Fans.

Good job.  Pretty irritating, right?  It's all the rage right now with our four-year-old.

So Joe was on the potty (with the lid down), as Julie saw when, suspecting something was up, she went downstairs and arrived at the threshold of the bathroom, everyone's favorite room in the house.  Clara was trying valiantly to place the stool in front of the potty in order to sit on the potty, in the colloquial, real sense.  She was trying to get her before-bath-business done.  Julie asked Joe to move on out and of course, naturally--NATURALLY--he sputtered through the rising wail that he had to go potty!

We were unmoved.

But he REALLY HAD TO GO!!!!!  Mr. Really Had To Go took himself to the sofa and flung himself upon it where he did not really let loose until such time as Birdie was done using the potty at which point he moseyed back on in--because he REALLY had to go, Fans.

Now, lest you think that Clara is a model citizen, we can assure you that she is more than capable of acting like a hool, again, and her absolute favorite target is her adored big brother Joe.  You can almost hear her thinking, "I know!  If I break up the puzzle he's just put together all by himself, he'll HAVE to pay attention to me!  And I've seen him flinging puzzle pieces around!  Let the good times roll!"

They roll on here, Fans.  They roll on here, Fans.  They roll on here, Fans. . .

Birdie Breaks Out

Clara, for her part, is talking more and more.  The other day, she made her first, independent conversational sally when she announced to us all: "I play with Daphne!"  (Daphne is one of the other girls in her class at school.)  Clara pronounces Daphne with an extra a in the middle and puts the emphasis on the last syllable: Daph-ah-KNEE!  Sort of a rising crescendo cadence to it.  Birdie can also hold her own in simple conversations.  She and Daph-ah-KNEE and their other compatriots are learning this month about all things water.  Today, they learned about oceans, seas, and lakes, and how they relate to each other in terms of size.  On the way home, Julie asked Clara if a lake was bigger or smaller than an ocean and Clara promptly replied, "Smaller."  (She made a helpful hand gesture for her mother, because after all, her mother really should have gotten the relative sizes of the bodies of water out there in the world tacked down much earlier.)  So it's all rather fun, these comments and answers that reveal a bit more of what goes on in Birdie's heart and mind, and in her days.

Stop Acting Like A Hool!

From the language development front, Ted reports that this weekend, he overhead Joe telling Clara to stop acting like a hool, again!  He reiterated that she was acting like a hool!

That would be a hooligan, Fans.

A relatively common refrain around Raleigh House here is "Stop acting like a hooligan!"  You know how families tend to develop their own private and charming lexicons?  For example, for reasons we couldn't possibly tell because we have no idea what they are, we elder Raleigh Housers tend to refer to a remote control as a motor troller.*  To this familial lexicon will, no doubt, be added "hool."

*Another example from Julie's childhood: When Grandma Connie was out of town, Julie and Grandpa Charles would sometimes forage about for dinner, or graze.  But in the Trump family this was known as "piecing around," or simply "piecing."  Joe and Clara's Great Grandmother Bille, whom they never met, thought that was a hoot when she heard it!

The hools, plotting their next hooliganary.

Building towers with lunchtime condiments and sippy cups.
(Exhibit A regarding why sippy cups are used at picnic lunches.)

I Got Clampers!

Birdie's hair is getting pretty long in front, and while ponies are possible, they are a little awkward given how far forward they have to be to pick up some of her bangs-that-aren't-really.  So this morning, Julie tried some of the super mini clampers.  Julie isn't sure if "clampers" is what these things are called, but it's what she's always called them.  The last time she tried them in Birdie's hair, they slid right out, but it would seem there are enough feathers there now.

"I got clampers!"