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.