The Bambini Call In Sick

Fans, the bambini are both sick.  Clara's lingering kind-of-a-cold-but-for-sure-her-two-year-molars-coming-in malaise has turned into a cough-fest.  This ongoing sickness (and of course the imminent appearance of some molars) goes a long way to explaining Birdie's bear cat-iness in recent days.  Poor Birdie.  She's so discombobulated she fell out of bed last night.  She got a horribly bad bonk.  Then, her blankets came off and she couldn't even contemplate figuring out how to get them back on herself, and really, that's what Mommies and Daddies are for--to tuck blankets up around us when we're sick.

Joe is also a one-man coughing band, but also has a stuffed up nose and a fever.  As is Joe's way when he is sick, he slowed way down and slept hard when the time came.  When Ted arrived early to pick Our Hero and his Erstwhile Sidekick up from school, he found Our Hero spaced out on a cot.  He reportedly curled himself into the chair in the living room with a blanket the moment he got home, and slept hard when the time came.  He did wake up--but not right away--when Clara was wailing in the wake of scoring her goose egg, but was otherwise down for the count practically from the moment his head hit the pillow.

So the bambini are calling in sick, and staying home today with Ted, who will be taking them to Dr. Harrington this afternoon just in case they have something that won't resolve on its own.

Our Story

A few weekends ago, during quiet time, when we were all going a little bonkers (save Birdie, who was sacked out), Julie asked Joe if he wanted to see pictures from when Mommy and Daddy got married--before he existed!  Mind blowing.  Joe was ready to have his mind blown, so Julie got the album out and they took a look.  Joe's mind wasn't necessarily blown, but there were plenty of people in the album besides Mommy and Daddy whom he recognized so it was still good times.

It wasn't long before another afternoon rolled around when we were again all going a little bonkers by weekend's end, so we got the wedding album out again.  This time, Birdie was awake.  Now there's one picture in the album, Fans, that's what you might call a posed candid.  Cara, our beloved wedding photographer, bless her, didn't take too many of these.  But when Julie and Ted arrived for the reception, Cara had us pause in the lobby and look all enamored on one of the love seats there.  Here is one of the resulting pictures, which is, actually, in the commemorative album.  (Who can resist a soft focus lens shot?  So romantic!)

The first time Joe saw this picture, Julie told him that Daddy was whispering secrets or sweet nothings to Mommy like "You're beautiful."  (Really, probably, it was something like "Cara said I'm supposed to whisper in your ear.  So I am.  But I feel sort of stupid." Julie, meanwhile, was trying to look unselfconsciously beautiful but thinking, "Me, too.")  But Julie also told Joe that she really was--beautiful, that is, because Julie is not above admitting that she did feel absolutely beautiful that day, due mostly to the fact that the day she married Ted remains, without exception, her best, most happy day, and when your heart is smiling that big on the inside, you can't help but look beautiful on the outside.

The second time Joe saw this picture, he said to Julie, "This is when Daddy told you you were beautiful, and you really were."  Oh Fans.

It all set Julie to thinking about stories and how precious they are, because you can have memories of things you didn't experience because you've heard the stories.  Joe and Clara weren't there that December eight years ago now, but we can give them the story--part of the start of each of theirs--so they can keep it as a memory.  The same trick will give them their memories of themselves, and each other, now, which they probably couldn't remember on their own without our stories.

Joe and Clara, so often as I write these posts, I think of the day, who knows when, when you both will read them.  It wasn't why I started writing, but over time, I've come to realize that I write these posts mostly for you, so you will know your stories, who you were, who we were--our story, this one we're making up together every day.  Pretty good so far, huh?  Can't wait to see what happens next.

PULL OVER!

So Joe and Clara's Great Great Aunt Nyla gave Joe a bullhorn that distorts one's voice the last time she visited.  Naturally, it lives in the basement.  This morning, the bambini were down in the basement with Julie while she was folding the laundry, and the bullhorn was found.  Joe spent what seemed like an hour shouting "PULL OVER!" into it.   A police officer visited Joe's class the other week ago, and Joe apparently now believes that a bullhorn's only purpose is to holler "Pull over!" at someone.  He could not be dissuaded on this point for some time.  And Julie tried.  She highlighted alternative uses from both the athletic and law enforcement arenas, and offered up attendant alternative phrases.  Nonstarters.  (You can see some of this scene here, though we apologize that you cannot get the full effect as our stringer camera person might have made her finger over the speaker.  The B team, you know.  Note that Joe tries the bull horn at his ear about 58 seconds in.  Another B team moment.)

We went to Wendy's for lunch and picked up another fantastic noise maker: a microphone that distorts one's voice!  The phrase the bambini took to hollering into the microphone was--ironically, as Ted pointed out--"Quiet down there!"  (Fans of In the Night Kitchen will recognize this phrase.)  Here is a brief clip of Clara chanting it.

Ted reports that yesterday, Joe was chanting "MGM Liquors," from his perch in the shopping cart as they tooled around the electronics department at Target.  Apparently Ted had taken Joe to purchase beer there after they'd gone to the Whole Foods next door, and Joe asked what the letters said.  "MGM Liquors!"  Poor Ted.

Before we draw the seemingly disparate strands of the post together, we must report that Joe spent a good portion of the late afternoon learning the subtle distinction between Pump It Up, and Pump A Dump.  Enunciating--it's a drag.

We arrive at the point: much of this weekend was spent listening to Joe and Clara roam around chanting, Rain Man-like, "PULL OVER!" and "Quiet down there!" and "MGM Liquors!" and "Pump a dump!"  Often into voice distorting toys.

May we be delivered from voice distorting toys.

Pump It Up!

Joe went to his good buddy Graham's fifth birthday party today.  G Man is turning FIVE and celebrated the occasion at Pump It Up.  If you live in the Twin Cities, and have a child in kindergarten or on either side of it by a year, it's a safe bet that you will attend at least one birthday party at Pump It Up.  There's probably a 50 percent chance that you yourself will then host a birthday party at Pump It Up.  Pump It Up contains at least two rooms of giant "inflatables"--i.e. giant bounce house and slide type things.  But giant.  We're, like, way past what you can rent for the back yard, Fans.

Graham and Joe know each other because Graham's mom is Sara, Julie's best friend, not because they go to the same school.  So the only people Joe knew at Graham's party were Graham and Graham's younger brother, Connor.  Here, we pause to say that practically the first thing that happened when Julie and Joe arrived at Pump It Up, and Joe walked in to a giant room filled with giant inflatables, powered by softly roaring air pumps, filled with people he didn't know, was Connor ran up and said "Hi, Joe!"  The second thing that happened was that Graham ran up and did the same.  So while it is true that their mothers' friendship thrust Graham and Joe together, it is also true that it is moments like this that make Graham (and Connor) good good-buddy material.

So before too long, Joe had gotten his bearings, and was off.  Fans, he tried everything, and must have slid down these gigantic slides about 50 times.  (He was pumped up.)  He got a balloon and a goodie bag filled with glow sticks to take home, and snagged one of each for Clara, too, so she wouldn't be sad.

So tonight, after reading Mercy Watson, Julie told Joe that she had to tell him a few things that she thought were so great and just loved about him: that even though he didn't know anyone at Graham's party besides Graham and Connor, he played with everyone; and he tried all the things; and he thought about Clara so she wouldn't be sad.  And then Joe said something that made Julie even prouder.  He said that he just asked the other kids their names, so then he knew them. "So like when I go to their houses the play, I'll know them."  Julie asked if he had told the other kids his name and Joe was "Yeah,"--all like "uh-huh, yup, yup."  Joe added that he didn't tell Graham and Connor his name because they already knew it.  (He was probably thinking that if he had to spell out that he'd told other kids his name, he probably had to spell this bit out, too.)

After that, Joe decided he wanted a piggy back ride into bed, and as Julie picked him up, he said, "Mommy, this is so good.  This is so good!"

So good.

Just a Minute!

Birdie's favorite book of late has been The Line Up Book.  We first learned of it from Aunt Kate who some time ago sent us some of Cousin Nick's old books.  Clara will often called The Line Up Book just "Sam."  "Read Sam?"  Read Sam!"  The Line Up Book features a boy named--you guessed it, Brigade--Sam, who has dumped all his blocks on the floor when his mother calls him for lunch.  Sam wants to make a line of blocks all the way from his room to his mother.  He runs out of blocks so has to search about for things to line up.  All the while his mother calls to him, and Sam calls back, "Just a minute!"  Then tension mounts.  Will Sam get there in time?  Or will Sam's mother lose it?  (You can probably guess that, too, Brigade.)  It's a lovely little book.  For sure one of Julie's favorites as well, in part because a whole little routine has developed around reading it.

The first bit of The Line Up Book routine is to identify the color of the fly leaf paper.  (Asking Clara the color of the fly leaf is one of the ways Julie helped Clara learn colors.)  The Line Up Book's fly leaf is kind of an outlier color: navy blue.  "NAVY blue!"  As we've reported, the action starts right away in The Line Up Book.  Sam dumps his blocks out; Sam's mother calls him for lunch.  So there's lots of calling back and forth with increasing frustration of sorts from both characters.  Clara gets right in the spirit and hollers "Just a minute!" nearly every time Julie does.  By the time Sam has reached the bathroom, Birdie will point out that Sam wears his shoes in the house.  (We do not.  Julie has explained that not everyone removes their shoes inside the house and wonders sometimes if Clara will think there are houses like ours, and Sam houses.)  Birdie also likes to ask what various objects (that are not being lined up) are, like the bowl, lamp, and letters or mail sitting on a table in the living room.  The knick knacks on Sam's living room's mantle are often asked after, as well.  It's all part of the Sam reading experience.  These bits are like their own little line.  The last page of the book is a picture of Sam and his mother eating lunch.  For a long time, Clara would chirp, "That's Sam, and that's Sam's Mommy!  That's Clara, and that's my Mommy!" as she pointed to the various people.  Sometimes Clara calls Julie "Clara's mommy," and it's funny to hear Clara straddle the divide where she sometimes speaks of herself and what's hers in the correct first person, and sometimes in the wrong but sweet third person.  Before long, she'll have it all sorted out, and know all kinds of other blues, and we'll be thinking, "Just a minute!"

Birdie also likes to gather things up.  Here, she is wearing an apron and toting a backpack, a bag, a bucket, and Fluffy, while pushing a grocery cart which contains yet another bag.  Her book would be The Gather Up Book.