Get Your Brave on For Bedtime

In other Birdie news, we can report that of late, not long after being tucked in, she  will get up and pad downstairs to see what delights are unfolding and being kept secret from her. She's got a cover story: she's scared. Of course! An oldie but a goodie. It's often delivered through an impish grin so we're not buying it.  Still, as we walk back upstairs, we remind Clara of all the things to consider doing to keep the frightening things of the world when you are four and it's bed time at bay: turn on the light in your room, turn on the light in the bathroom, turn on the light in the hallway, listen for the noises Mommy and Daddy are making. Turning on music can also be an option. (Christmas music is the standby, but in the wake of learning about red tailed hawks this summer, Alabama's Greatest Hits including Dixieland Delight had a good run.)

The other night, Birdie padded downstairs and stated that she had turned on the light in her room, and the bathroom, and the hallway, and she had listened for the noises, and still, she was scared.  Julie told her that there was just one thing left to do: "Be brave."

We're thinking of adding some Sarah Barellis to the bedtime music rotation.

Of Colds and Mists

Birdie has been under the weather as the weather has turned from summer to fall here in Minnesota. It's not yet quite winter, but the misery still prompted Birdie to lament: "Why do I have to have stuff in my nose for the winter?" Poor Birdie. She kicked one cold only to come right down with another, and in the brief window between them, she got her flu vaccine.

The bambini got the mist instead of the shot this year. They did last year as well, but neither remembered the experience so the car ride between Joe's school and Dr. Harrington's office earlier this fall was marked by MUCH discussion about mist. What is mist? What is smaller than mist? Can we see such things? Could we buy a microscope? To see atoms? That are smaller than mist?  Why not? Why not?  There was also a lot of self-affirming self-talk: "It won't hurt. Yeah.  It won't hurt. It'll just feel like a little tickle.  Yeah.  Like a little tickle." (After being misted, there was a lot of self-congratulating self-talk: "It didn't hurt. Yeah. It didn't hurt. It was just like a little tickle! Yeah. Like a little tickle!"

Fall Break 2014

Fans, we are back from the fall break taken in October by schools across Minnesota.  We all used the potty before we left!  The evidence remained when we returned.  At least the lid was down which kept the same on the smell.

We spent the break in Illinois with our old friends Jean and Brian and their four-year-old daughter, Evelyn. As we pulled into their neighborhood, Clara excitedly announced that she was going to get up early. Joe said, "Well that's not helpful!"  Indeed.  And yet, they both woke up early every day of the fall break.

Evelyn's house is near a pumpkin patch, though "patch" doesn't really describe a place that houses two giraffes and a camel (among other things) accurately.  In any case, we visited it and all fed the giraffes, save Clara.  While we were there, we also played in a "corn box"--a large sandbox filled with corn instead of sand--and saw a pumpkin-eating dinosaur live up to his name (three times).

Our trip coincided with Northwestern's homecoming weekend so we also took Joe and Clara to their first tailgate and game at Ryan Field where the bambini had fun roaring like wild cats.

And we saw Grandma Connie and Grandpa Charles for brunch on our way out of town--just back from a trip to Italy! They didn't get to feed giraffes while they were there, but it sounds like they still had a good time all the same.

We played a good amount of I Spy in the car.  At some point, in a round on the trip down, one of the bambini--Birdie?--had guessed whether the thing spied was a skunk.  It made no sense, and that fact is probably what made the guess so funny to her and Joe.  By return trip's end, we were all fairly loopy. Joe had spied something yellow.  He offered two hints: it was in front of the car, and began with the letter H.  It was not a higgitywopple or any of the other nonsense words we all guessed.  When Clara asked, with a good amount of seriousness, "Is it a skunk?". . .well, Julie thought she might loose it.

(It was a headlight.  Ted guessed it.)

And a Day For Indulgance

Clara and Julie spent Monday afternoon indulging in a series of small treats. They began with a ladies lunch at Chipotle.  Birdie had a whole burrito! Carnitas, peppers and onions, sour cream, cheese, and lettuce for the curious.  Then, they went to the book store where they each got a book as well as one for Joe. That was followed by a smoothie from Starfoxes.

The entire afternoon was marked by intermittent conversation about laws and whether various things were against the law. The conversation began when Clara rolled down her window and pitched out a rock. Oh, you don't gather rocks wherever you go, Fans? The bambini do. It is not uncommon to lift up one of their jackets and discover it weighted down by a pocketful of rocks.  Neither have yet to meet a rock they didn't want to pick up and squirrel away somewhere, except perhaps the one Clara up and decided to pitch out the window, just before a car passed in the opposite direction.  We can only assume that rock was a troublemaker.

Little Leave Takings

Julie has been thinking lately about the little leave takings that mark the days when one has kids and works outside the home. There are other leave takings to come, everything from sleep-away camp to college, that for now remain bridges to cross on other days.  But as she was working outside the home before Joe and Clara were born and didn't stop once they were, a bridge she's crossed many times is the one that ends with her leaving Joe and Clara in someone else's care while she's at that other work.  She's never felt conflicted about her choice to work outside the home after she became a mother the way she knows some parents--mothers, really--are.  She has learned though that her comfort with the choice doesn't mean that some days it isn't still hard to let go of Joe and Clara's little bodies and walk out of their respective schools, to leave them. 

Clara, especially, still has a hard time parting on weekdays, at least when Julie drops her off.  But, quite by accident, Julie has discovered something that makes the leaving a little less hard for  her, and perhaps for Clara.  Many days, Clara will cry, "I want to stay home with you."  On one such day, Julie replied, "Me, too," and there she was in a moment in which she still felt sad, but a little less so, because she was in it with Clara. There was something about acknowledging that she wanted to stay home with Clara and would miss her, something about acknowledging the leaving and allowing the moment to be, that made it less hard to part.

For Care, new to leaving for other work.