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.