When You Wish Upon A Star

Fans. Ariel and Tinkerbell are in. . .the. . .HOUSE!!!!! The bambini were greeted upon their arrival home by a large box from their Grandparents Trump. Inside were two different Lego sets for Joe and an giant-Ariel-head pillow and blanket along with an Ariel doll and a Tinkerbell doll for Clara. There were also pajamas featuring these ladies and a frilly skirt. O. M. G. Fans. O. M. G. Ariel and Tinkerbell are Birdie's two favorite princesses (Oh Tinks is royalty. A fairy? What's that? Birdie will brook no discussion on this point.) and now she can sleep on top of, surrounded by, and with them?!?! She got right to that on the kitchen floor after she flew Tinks around with Joe with whom she'd shared Ariel. When you wish upon a star, Fans, dreams come true.

Daddy Day

In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue. In 2013, Clara Jane was treated like a queen!  Kindercare was closed but school was open (surely not our last frustrating misalignment of calendars), so Ted stayed home to make it a Daddy Day. Joe got to benefit by not having to go to Kids Place, instead we walked to Starfox where Clara ordered a Morning Bun (aka "the swirly one") and Joe got the same (deviating from his beloved raspberry doughnut). Once Joe was off at school Ted asked Clara if she wanted to go to the zoo expecting shrieks of delight, but instead she said in a whiney voice "I don't want to go to the zoo".  Fortunately Ted offered it up again with a reminder that it was a special treat and we would see animals and she quickly changed her tune.

At the zoo we packed Dolly and Little Chloe in the backpack so they could see and headed in. Clara wanted to start with fish and then chose to go outside to see animals. We took the long route past the otters, bears, boars, leopards, takins, bison, camels, tigers, and caribou. Then we went inside, first stopping for a souvenir penny squished and stamped with a penguin picture, then to some turtles, monkeys, flamingos, birds, and lots of fish. After all that we sat down to our lunch we had packed that morning just like Joe's. All and all it was smooth sailing for the little queen.

Clara looking like he bison is nudging her.

Clara with a packed lunch just like Joe.

Joe's First Field Trip--and What We Come To Know

Observant readers will have noted from a previous post that Joe went on his first ever field trip on Friday.  This event occasioned another: his first ever ride on a school bus.  (Since White House is only a few blocks from school, he's not allowed to take the bus.)  Joe and his class went to the Westwood Nature Center, where they made apple cider and went on a leaf hike.  Joe said he sat by the window on both the ride to and from Westwood, and that he sat by Miles on the way there, and Aaron on the way back.

It's interesting what one learns about Joe's days, and what one does not.  A lot depends on what questions one poses.  They need to be specific; broad questions will get you nowhere.  But in order to as specific questions, of course, one needs some background in the details--the sort of thing that comes from specific questions.

For example, yesterday, at Joe's soccer game, Julie and Ted realized that Joe knows his teammate Benjamin, or Ben, from school.  In confirming this fact, Julie asked Joe, "Do you know Benjamin from school?"  To which Joe, replied, "No."  Julie kept quit, waiting for it, and Joe said, "That's Ben."

Ben's dad introduced himself to Julie on her way off the field after the game.  Ben is in the other full-day kindergarten class.  Apparently Ben came home one day and announced that a kid at school was on his soccer team; he (Ben) had met him (Joe) in the hallway.  Because we are Joe Fans, and we know that you are also Joe Fans, we will also shamelessly report that Ben's dad then said that he'd asked Ben if Joe was a good guy and Ben said, "Dad, he's a GREAT guy!"

So now we can ask about Ben.  But not Benjamin.  There's no one named Benjamin in kindergarten.

If You Think Three Is Tough, Try Five

No. 1 Bro, No. 1 Son

Now if it hard to be three, it is also true that it can be tough to be five--and the older brother of a three-year-old sister.

After all, when you're five, you still have to do things you don't really like and sometimes, on top of all that, you have to endure some adult telling you why it's not so bad, or it's good for you, or why you'll be glad someday you did the thing you didn't like today. For Joe, one of these things is navigating Kid's Place at drop off which every morning is like walking into a party when you aren't sure if your friends have arrived, except there's no punch bowl if they haven't.

A week ago Friday, Julie dropped Joe off instead of Ted.  She spent more time at home with the bambini in an effort to maximize the amount of time Joe would have to be at Kid's Place.  It was only after she and Joe had dropped Clara off and were walking down the hall at KinderCare that Joe asked if they were going to Starfoxes, and Julie learned that this was how Joe and Ted roll on Friday mornings. She told Joe she was so sorry, but that she wasn't taking him to Starfoxes before they went to Kid's Place.  He all but trudged down the hall, and Julie's heart twisted all up.  So she sat down in one of the chairs in the lobby and called Joe over.  Instead of trying to push some silver lining on him, she just said the situation sucked.  (She said it in five-year-old appropriate language, but that was the gist.)  Joe hugged her, and while they were hugging, Julie said, "Let's go do this Kid's Place thing," which they did, or rather Joe did, and he did it great, even if it remains not so great most days.

Julie felt really solid about that bit of parenting.  But in this game, one minute you're up, and the next minute you're down.  This morning, Julie and Ted took the bambini to the apple orchard they've been going to for a number of years now.  There is a train-playground thing there on which the bambini were playing in a huge scrum of kids until a teary Joe came streaming toward Julie and said that Clara had stepped on his hand and didn't even apologize.  Julie told Joe it must have been an accident--so many kids and all--but that Clara should have apologize.  Julie called Clara over so that Joe could tell her instead what he'd told Julie.  He did, but no sooner had he said his piece than Clara started protesting that she had to step on Joe's hand because he wouldn't move--!!!!!  After they'd sorted that stepping on someone else's hand is never o-kay, Julie apologize to Joe.  She told him she was sorry for immediately assuming that it must have been an accident; that she'd just wanted to think the best of Clara--not that she'd stepped on his hand on purpose.  To which Joe said, "Well, she DID!"  Can't argue with that.

It only looks like there are no other children here.  That is an illusion created by an opportune perspective and click of the shutter.  In reality, there there approximately 3,000 children at the orchard.

Riding the train pulled by a little tractor.

Headed back to the station!

Before the hand was stepped on.  (After faces were painted.)

Three, Still Tough

So how's it going with Birdie?  Brigade, sometimes it's sunshine and roses and sometimes, it's piss and vinegar.  For example, Friday night brought us an epic tantrum at the dinner table, made all the more explosive by Ted, Julie, and Joe's steadfast refusal to acknowledge it in kind.  Dinner was roast chicken, red potatoes, and carrots.  Birdie announced that she did not want carrots.  As our longtime readers know (and, incidentally, as Birdie knows), the cook decides what to serve and the diners decide whether they would like to eat it--without color commentary.  Birdie threw her carrots off her plate.  When this was ignored, she broke into a long and rambling rant, a portion of which Julie jotted down.  Now, you need to imagine this at top volume and through tears:

I not hungry and I don't want dinner!

I not hungry!  I just want a cupcake!

I don't want Daddy to talk!" [Here, Ted and Julie were attempting to have a conversation with Joe about his day which included his first field trip!]

I want a pink fork.  I don't want a purple fork.  I don't want a purple fork  I don't want a purple fork like my room.  I don't want a purple fork.

[Purple fork pitched down the table.  Placed out of reach by Julie.  Birdie shrieks.]

I want an orange fork.

I don't like to color on paper.  I don't like to color on paper.  I don't like to color on paper.

I don't want Mommy to write!  I don't want Mommy to write!

I want Baby Kitty to give her a hug.

Once Baby Kitty (who, we hasten to note, is a stuffed animal) was procured, and hugged, Clara calmed down a bit and deigned to eat some of her dinner and the night unspooled without further incident.

Julie read with Joe Friday night, and Ted with Birdie.  Ted was still reading to Clara with Julie walked out of Joe's room, so Julie went in, cupped her hand behind Birdie's head, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and said, "I love you, Birdie."  That's when Clara reached up and held on to Julie's arm, kissed it, and said, "I love you, Mommy."

Thank goodness for the sunshine and roses.

All tuckered out after the fit.