Patrick woke me up this morning to tell me that Caroline had just said "cat" with the 't' perfectly articulated at the end. Actually what he said was, "Mommy! Caroline just said "cat" like a normal person! Don't you want to wake up and hear her?"
My family has an unerring ability to make me feel like I stumbled home from the casino at 5 am having forgotten to pick up any milk or generic toilet paper - again. Patrick is especially good at it; like when he lifted Caroline up so she could peer under the pillow covering my face and said, "You remember Mommy; don't you Caroline?" Steve rushed in smelling like sunshine and pancake batter and said reproachfully, "Oh Patrick! You know Mommy is still sleeping. We haven't even finished breakfast yet." And EddyBear stumped through the door behind Steve and said, "Car? Up? Go? Yo-Yo?" which no doubt was also intended to convey disdain over the fact that I was still in bed with the best of a bright and beautiful morning already behind us.
I am not a morning person. I have never been a morning person. I thought that once the twinks stopped waking me up every night I might become a little more of a morning person than I have been for the past two years, maybe, but... no. Now I am just a slightly less puffy insomniac getting six straight hours of sleep.
I wish I could do a neat little flowchart here because I want to go in three different directions:
- Patrick drives me crazy. Quite often. But to give credit where credit is due he is without question the greatest big brother ever created (rivaling my own big brother - and that's saying something.) He could not be any prouder of or more invested in Caroline and Edward's accomplishments if he had constructed them himself out of playdoh.
Last night Caroline stood up in her chair for the twentieth time. Steve, also for the twentieth time, said, "Caroline, sit down and eat." The first nineteen times she sat back down and giggled, or at least squatted a little lower in the chair. This time, however, she put her hands on her hips and thundered*, "NO!" And pointing at Steve she repeated, "No! No! No!" Then she stood there (STOOD there) with her chin stuck out at a belligerent angle.
Steve and I were speechless, having missed the whole toddler jerkface stage the first time around.
Patrick, however, beamed.
"Wasn't that the cutest thing you have ever heard in YOUR ENTIRE LIFE?"
* well... "thundered"... Caroline sounds like a pixie on helium. Edward has a fairly deep voice for a little kid. They are two very different gerbils
-- Edward had a mini language explosion this week and has added new sounds. He is also at least trying to scrape a consonant onto the end of some words rather than letting them gargle off any old way. We can understand him a little better and we are highly amused to discover that he converses like an abecedary.
"Apple?" he says. "Boat. Book. Bear. Car. Dog. Duck. E! E! Flower. Frog**... ." And so on until you get to his new favorite word, yo-yo, an item which he has never actually seen. You would be amazed at how often yo-yo can come up in conversation when you aren't too particular about context or narrative flow. My friend Noelle was over the night and she was drawing things for Edward on a Magnadoodle, which is when we discovered that he can identify roughly half of the letters in the alphabet. Suddenly all of his late evenings with Patrick's handed down books and a nightlight make sense.
Patrick, it almost goes without saying, is thrilled by what he considers to be a right and proper interest in letters and promptly began drilling Edward on the other half of the alphabet using a book he wrote this morning for that express purpose.
I love Patrick's prissy lip compression in this picture. Very School Marm.
I tried giving Edward and Caroline a little water in an open cup today. You can see that Edward is still wet. How do kids learn that skill, again? Is there a trick to it? I am pretty sure I just gave Patrick a sippy cup until... forever.
** Ah-puh. Boh-ut. Buh. Bah. Cah-ur. Dah. Duh. E! Whuh-whuh. Fuh... and yo yo.
--- Someone left a comment on the last post saying that Caroline bears a striking resemblance to Susan Boyle. I have deleted maybe five comments in the past six years and that was one of them. Not that I don't think Susan Boyle looks very nice, I do, it was just that I suspected that the comment was not intended to be complimentary. I don't know, maybe I was wrong. I try to be appreciative of the fact that an open blog with zero comment deletion presents so many more opportunities for learning and growth and realizing that I am wrong about things but I read that one and my teeth snapped shut and the next thing I knew... zing! I had deleted the comment.
Personally, I think she is the cutest thing I have ever seen in MY ENTIRE LIFE. Just ask Patrick.
Previous Post Round-up:
Thank you so much for the tonsil help. I really appreciate it. I especially was thankful for all of you who assured me that we are doing the right thing. I realize I did not say in so many words that I was waffling but it must have been obvious that I was biting my nails over this decision. So thank you. Also thanks for all the book and movie thoughts. I got Frank Asch's Cardboard Genius (Patrick pronounces this word with a hard G - Gee-nuous. I find this fact mildly hilarious) from the library and Patrick read the entire thing in the car. He loved it. I am also looking into Percy Jackson and Artemis Fowl and... I don't know. Lots of others. I opened the library catalog page in one window and the comments in the other.
And I loved that Sally mentioned her son was also hesitant with non-animated movies and that it helped to read the book first. I had an awwwwww connection moment (Patrick's teacher used to press both her index fingers to both her thumbs and interlock them for "connections" - Patrick still does this when he puts two previously unlinked ideas together in his mind, like putting Tupperware over Caroline's head and calling it a space helmet - connection!)
Going even further back I randomly stuffed series suggestions from you into our Netflix queue and we have been watching some new stuff. Well, first we watched a new season of old stuff because I had not realized that the next season of Weeds was out. Oooooooh! Ooooooooh, I say.
*please don't read this if you have never watched Weeds but plan to do so*
I try hard not to randomly judge other people's parenting but I have a really hard time letting go and enjoying Nancy Botwin's antics when she makes these HORRIBLE maternal decisions. Good GOD.
It's funny and entertaining and I want to rescue her children and set appropriate boundaries for them. Does that make me all middle aged and Lovejoy? It must.
We tried the first season on Pushing Daisies and I wanted to somehow cast Zooey Deschanel as the lead. Not that she doesn't have better things to do, and not that the show was without its own charm, but it began to gnaw at me. Also, the pie maker had a lopsided sincere smirk thing that bugged me.
I know we are supposed to try The Wire. We want to try the Wire. But... is it over-the-top horribly unnerving like Oz or just kinda gritty unnerving like the first few seasons of the Sopranos? Please advise.
I have a few new recipes up at Scrambled and I think I am getting a better grasp on photographing food. The new blog has become my creative outlet. Steve said, I thought your normal blog was your creative outlet? I said, no, my normal blog is like my best friend. Steve said, that is very very sad.
PS They have not yet hired one of the four teachers who might be Patrick's homebase teacher next year. We got the educational equivalent of a Save the Date card from the school; like, this is the letter that would be telling you about your child's teacher for the upcoming year but it isn't and here's why. I suspect Meet the Teacher night is going to be a surprise for everyone including the teacher. I think we should go the reality show route - bring in 12 candidates to Meet the Teacher and then eliminate them one by one as they deal with such challenges as: How do you get a puking kindergartener into the Childrens Theater bathroom without abandoning the rest of your class in the lobby? How do you teach reading to 31 K-1 students when they range in ability from picture books to chapter books, two speak English as a shaky second language, five have aggressive helicopter parents (Hiiiii!) and three didn't get breakfast? I doubt the principal will take my suggestion though.
Two years ago I would have been breathing into a paper bag over not knowing who Patrick's teacher might be. See how I have mellowed like cognac?