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.