Calculated to annoy

Dutch dug out two calculators we had in the back of a desk drawer. They date back to maybe 1992, when Cook and I did some math.* She and Skipper like to play with them - Dutch does very simple math and complains about the calculator's errors.** Skipper pretends it's a phone. This is how she thinks people talk on cellphones: she picks up the calculator, pushes some buttons, holds it to her ear, and yells "HeWOAH!!!!! HEEEEWWWWWOOOAW!!!!!" and then she pauses and says "TAWKING!!!!!"

Dutch and I entertained ourselves (while Cook put Skipper to sleep) imitating her.

*I think I did math. The state of my brain suggests that I might just be imagining that.

**"Mom! It says that 8 minus 8 is zero! That's wrong! 8 minus 8 is 8!"

Popular titles in our household

"Beeg Hongee Behr"

"Behr! Home!"*

"Go Doggo!"

Little House books

*The other books in this series are also very popular.

Sick kid

Dutch has been lying on the couch all day. She has a mild fever, but doesn't seem terribly sick. However, she has not been this limp due to illness since that time she had a fever when she was three and I stayed up all night watching "Charlotte's Web" with her. She's being very fainting-couch/Jane-Austen-character-who-got-caught-in-the-rain about it. It's kind of adorable.

This is how you know we're over-educated Portlanders.

Cook, Skipper and Dutch are doing a performance of The Tempest in our living room while I type this. Also, Skipper can identify sharrows.

A walk in the park

Today Dutch and Cook went to the science museum. (Science!) So I stole Dutch's camera, and took Skipper to the park. Sorry - Dutch's camera, while absolutely perfect for her, is not up to capturing Skipper in motion.

By the way, a waterproof suit is pretty much the most important thing you can have as a child under the age of 10 in the Pacific Northwest. Actually, everyone in the Pacific Northwest should have a waterproof suit.

Report card.

Yesterday I went to Dutch's parent-teacher conference. Dutch is apparently a model student, and the teacher had nothing but good things to say. "Whatever you're doing at home," she said "keep doing it."* She also presented us with a collection of "work samples" that included a fabulous drawing of a pegacorn, a "small moment" story about how happy Dutch was when Skipper was born - "I like my sister. She is fany. She is frenly."** - and an essay on trees - "I like trees. The tree ring shoes how old it is."

I knew she's doing well in school, but it was nice to hear the teacher telling me how pleased she is with Dutch as a student. We can worry about other stuff, instead.

*I consider that this gives me free license to continue doing things like yell "Stop singing that song! It's just pissing me off!"

**The teacher provided this as an example of how sophisticated Dutch is - apparently, a standard-issue AVERAGE kindergartener would just have said that he/she liked his/her sister, without any supporting explication. Of course, standard-issue kindergarteners apparently are not expected to be able to name all six basic shapes yet, and you have to admit that's a little bit sad.

Dutch got a camera for her birthday. Of the following pictures, I took the first two, and she took the rest.

Food

Dutch has always been pretty easy when it comes to food. She's been willing to try new things, and tolerant of a wide variety of tastes and textures. Skipper, however, won't try anything, unless it's virtually identical to something she eats.

This is what she eats at least somewhat reliably:

-milk

-almond and peanut butters

-butter

-bread

-grapes

-bananas

-cereal

-tortillas

-pasta

-cheese (but only cold, not melted)

-nori

-yogurt

-granola

-plain cooked kidney beans

That's it. Notice that there's nothing vegetable in that list, and barely any fruit. Also, notice that it's mostly breakfast. It's causing me some emotional pain; it's sad to try to feed your child food that IS GOOD FOR HER, and have her absolutely point-blank refuse. Yesterday I was so convinced that she would like the mashed sweet potatoes (baked with eggs and maple syrup - what's not to love?) if only she would taste them that I actually smooshed them on her mouth, much to her dismay (and Cook's). I have entirely lost my credibility as a food-provider now. She cried and said "Mama! Push! Mouth! Skipper! Sad!"

The years are just flying by

Last week I had lunch with a high-school classmate I hadn't seen in many, many, many years. Before I left my preceding engagement, I glimpsed myself in the bathroom mirror and thought "Wow, I look really old and tired." On my way to meet her, I briefly walked behind a cute family, and the dad was holding the maybe-3-year-old kid so he was looking back at me over his dad's shoulder. I smiled at him, because he was crazy cute, and he smiled back at me and then he said (and no, I'm NOT making this up) "Grandma, is that you?"

Last call for advent calendar!

If you've got a small thing to send Dutch/Skipper, pop it in the mail! Thanks for the things we've amassed so far! Don't worry about choking hazards - Skipper's pretty good about not eating things.*

Today Dutch acted in a scene in a (student) film! She was very excited. Also, this weekend Taekwondo Uncle notched another degree in his black belt, and we got to watch.** Dutch loved that, too - she got to spend time with some of her favorite grownups, watch TU break bricks and kick people in the head, and admire The Best Baby Ever, who continues to live up to her reputation. And Skipper started peeing in the potty again! It was a great weekend.

It's supposed to snow tonight! I'm preparing for city-wide paralysis.

*Unfortunately, that goes for food as well as inedible things. I'm not sure she's ever intentionally ingested a vegetable.

** My uncle can totally kick your uncle's ass.

Joining the Club

Dutch made a handprint turkey! I told her that she had now joined millions of other Americans in this ritual. We looked around at all the people (well, the ones aged 6 and older) around us on the sidewalk and in their cars and on their bikes and whatnot, as we were walking to school, and I told her that they had probably ALL made handprint turkeys.

I think that's kind of beautiful.

In other news, when asked by the librarian at Dutch's school* which child is mine, I said "Well, she's in Mrs. H's kindergarten class. The tall one? With the glasses? Who never stops talking?" and then at last she said "Ohhh, yes. NOW I know who you're talking about."

*I'm going to do a little volunteer work for her, organizing the books. I'm going to write that again, because it gives me so much pleasure. I'm going to get to organize books.

My Lucky Day

I very much enjoyed both The Poisoner's Handbook and At Home. I did have an awkward moment while I was waiting at a bus stop in a seedy part of town. A scruffy-looking guy sitting in the shelter said loudly "Ya planning to POISON somebody?!" to me, and I ignored him with my impassive, don't-fuck-with-me,-you-drunk-homeless-guy,-because-I-am-STREETWISE!!! expression* and there was a pause, and he said helpfully "because I saw your book..." and I looked at the book tucked under my arm and I said "Ohhh! I'm sorry! I thought you were crazy!" and he said "Yeah, there are a lot of crazy people around here!" and we shared a nice laugh. Ha ha ha!

*Strangely enough, this expression almost never works for me. I can't imagine why.

Moving along

This is how Dutch celebrated her birthday:

1) Enjoying a celebratory breakfast and presents-opening before school

2) Wearing a paper crown that said her name and "6" on it all day at school. I joined her for lunch, and it was like being in the entourage of a celebrity - kids were calling out "Happy birthday, Dutch!" everywhere we went.

3) Going out for dinner to a local fast food joint* and eating a cheeseburger, french fries, and root beer.**

4) Falling asleep with her new doll nestled in a cardboard box beside the bed.

This is how Skipper celebrated Dutch's birthday:

1) Spending much of the day trying to get her hands on the new doll, and pointing at it while saying "Doll. MINE. Doll!!! MEEEE!"

2) Discovering how much she loves fast food. "Good. GOOD. MORE. MEEEEE!"

* I was able to look up the nutrition information of all my options beforehand online, and judiciously choose food that represented only one day's worth of calories and saturated fat, rather than two or three.

**Dutch is blessedly inexperienced with soda, and when I walked her up to the soda dispenser, she was paralyzed by all the options, so I let her try a sip of every one. She declared Coke, Mr Pibb, root beer, and Sprite all to be far superior to Fanta. (I love orange sodea. I also love grape soda, and cherry cola.)

Six

I think I should probably be reflecting on time, and aging, and mortality. My baby girl (six!) is going to be grown and gone off to live her magical grownup life in about thirty seconds, I think. Or maybe on joy, because turning six is apparently pretty awesome.*

But instead I'm going to ask you to watch this clip. I know you're sick of hearing about how much I hate cars, and how nobody should call or text while you're driving. But if you take a second whenever you're about to make or take a call in the car, and think about a 13-year-old girl (who no doubt kicked off her sixth birthday with a face as purely delighted as my own girl's today) burning to death in a crumpled schoolbus, we'll all be better off.



*Even when your weary, cold-infested parents manage to muster up only an english muffin (with six candles jammed into it) for a celebratory breakfast.

Now We Are Five.

Tomorrow, We Will Be Six. We are Very, Very, Very Excited. We Might Explode.

Canines in motion.

Skipper's new favorite book is Go, Dog, Go. We have to read it over and over, and she chases us around with the book, yelling "Go, dog, go, go, go, doggie, go, go, dog, go!!!"

Holy shit, Harrison Ford is OLD!

Also strange and kind of mean.

But you know what made my day today? I went to the local branch of my awesome library system and I discovered that they have a new "Lucky Day" system in which you can check out NEW BOOKS!!!!! Only two at a time, and you can't renew them, but wow. What a wonderful day. I got The Poisoner's Handbook and At Home (note that the review reassures you that "it doesn't overtax our intellect"). Man, it's going to be a great weekend!

I really mean it.

You guys. Cars are so terrible. SO terrible.

not well-oiled at ALL

This morning Cook and Skipper got up at 5:45. Cook fed Skipper and himself, made coffee, and took a shower. Dutch and I got up at 6:15. Cook left for work at 6:35. I fed both kids* and myself, packed lunch for myself and Dutch, washed out Skipper's bucket (which we use to bring home her soiled training pants from daycare every night), washed dishes, took a shower, got dressed, brushed everyone's teeth, and did some other stuff I can't remember. We left the house at 8:15 and dropped Skipper off at daycare at 8:30. I dropped Dutch at her classroom at 8:45 (just as the late bell rang!) and went to my bus stop. I arrived at work at 9:30.

I worked until 4. I got off the bus at 4:52, and walked to the house of Dutch's friend Spruce, where the new babysitter was babysitting Dutch and Spruce. I cajoled Dutch into leaving (this took a while) and we walked home, arriving at about 5:30. When we got home, Skipper and Cook were already there - Cook had picked up Skipper from daycare at 4:30 and started cooking dinner (while toting Skipper on his hip most of the time, which is really pretty impressive) on arrival. I washed out today's training pants and rinsed out the bucket, got together a batch of laundry, took Dutch and Skipper to the basement to get the laundry going, emptied Dutch's backpack and sorted out all the random sad handouts for recycling and the information from the school for response or noting on the calendar. I entertained a very tired Skipper while Cook finished up dinner. We ate dinner (Skipper whining and crying and insisting on sitting in a lap instead of her chair) while Dutch told long confusing stories about her day. Cook and I managed to sneak in a few short conversations, often with long breaks in the middle. We finished dinner.

Cook took Skipper straight off to the bedroom to put her to sleep. I sat down to write this while Dutch sits on the couch reading to herself (and asking me to help her with a word about every 72 seconds). In a few minutes, I'll start ushering Dutch through her bedtime routine, and I expect to be done at about 7:30. Then I'll wash the lunch and dinner dishes, if Cook hasn't done them already. Cook and I will fetch and hang the laundry, wipe the counters, and tidy up as much junk as we can muster energy for. We should be done with all this by 8:30ish, and I will be so tired my eyeballs will be wobbling.

That's the news.

*Skipper likes to eat two breakfasts.

Nicknames

Skipper, who's getting better at talking all the time, has pretty much mastered the names of some of Dutch's friends and can say them so clearly that even non-family can understand them. However, she still calls Dutch the same thing - "Dee-deuh"* - that she's been calling her since the time when she couldn't articulate much of anything at all. The nickname has stuck. This is how people end up 25 years old with their families still calling them Ta-Ta.

Of course, Skipper refers to herself only as "Me" (usually accompanied with a chest thump and a defiant glare), so she's got a ways to go, generally, on names. She put together her first real sentence last night - she said "Help... ME!"

*The only way this nickname resembles Dutch's actual name is in the number of syllables. How she got started with it is a mystery.

Help me!

Dutch likes science. I have the impression that she's more interested in the learning of facts than in the doing of science, but I feel that I am failing to encourage her budding interest either way. I think I'm in danger of letting my verbal, performance-loving, narrative-oriented child roll along down the path of least resistance to become a person who does language but not math, fiction but not non-fiction, conversation but not scientific inquiry.

I have to push myself a little on this, because I think dance camp or Spanish immersion camp sound much cooler than Science Museum Camp. I like science, too, don't get me wrong. But I don't naturally lean toward it. So I need your help.

Anybody know any good movies and books about science for an almost-6-year-old?

And waves of Dutch

This week, Dutch spontaneously used the words "gender" and "successful" in conversation.* She also announced that she is bored at school because she already knows everything. We're not sure if she's saying that because she's overheard** us expressing our dismay with her academic situation, or because it's actually true.

Also, she made her first request for Silly Bandz. This created an excellent opportunity to talk about fads, and she listened very carefully, said thoughtful things that indicated she understood exactly what I was trying to say,*** and about 14 hours later, she bought herself a pack of Silly Bandz.

*As in "I guess it's just a gender thing," said with a world-weary sigh.

**Dutch is a champion eavesdropper.

***Fads are usually harmless, but you should think carefully if you want to spend your time and money on them.

Maelstroms of Skipper

I just googled "my 18-month-old is horrible"* and got lots of useful hits. You see, my 18-month-old is HORRIBLE. Adorable, but also really, really horrible.

This is a sample of adorable (translations provided):

Me: Skipper, how was your day?

Skipper: Goot. (Good.)

Me: Did you play with your friends?

Skipper: Joppah! Jaypee! Feeese! Sessee! (Gemma! Jamie! Felix! Cecily! Can you believe they were ALL there?!)

Me: What did you do today?

Skipper: Feese. Hat. Bear. (Felix wore a bear hat? Felix got eaten by a bear wearing a hat? Felix pulled a bear out of a hat? Something like that.)

Me: Hm. Did you go to the park?

Skipper: Park! Seeenhg! (We went to the park and I sat in the swing the entire time and insisted on being pushed, because I'm absolutely obsessed with the swing.)

These are other adorable things:

• The hugs
• The blowing of kisses
• The grins.
• The new words.
• The absorbed extended studying of weird things like a box of paper clips.

This is horrible:

• The screaming.
• The whining.
• The incomprehensible demands followed by screaming and whining.
• The insane sibling-rivalry jealousy, with biting.
• The waking up REALLY early and shrieking "Hongee! Poop!"
• The refusal to eat anything that isn't white or brown.
• The rageful loathing of baths.
• The wriggling, screaming, kicking loathing of diaper changes.

The horrible is exacerbated by the poor kid's eczema, which is currently flaring up and driving her nuts. More nuts.

Anyway, it's just normal 18-month-old misery (I hope) and she'll grow out of it, and then I'll miss her chubby little hands and her delighted pleasure in stomping around in rain boots. But at the moment, I'm very, very tired.

*I find it very satisfying to google exact phrases, like "how could anybody possibly vote for John Boehner for a position requiring any sort of competence or ethics?" and sometimes get relevant answers. It's like the world is answering my questions. Or not.

Dreaming

"Hey, Dutch," Cook said last week, when both kids were being ominously quiet in the corner, "what's Skipper doing?"

"Oh," Dutch said, "she's realizing the American dream."

She was. Actually, she was reading about it in our brand new book. We've signed up with a local non-profit that provides home-buying support for poor first-time home-buyers, and I attended an all-day class a few weeks ago. I brought home a giant tome that is actually called "Realizing the American Dream," a title that must have seemed perfect when it was first written, but now seems kind of ironic and cynical.

We are extremely fortunate to have relatives who have been much more successful than we have, and have recently come into Piles of Unearned Money. In spite of the fact that we have not very much income (and if I do stop working at the end of December, which seems increasingly certain, we'll have less), we are able to at least consider buying a house. In fact, we're going to go see a few this weekend.

I have many, complicated, fascinating thoughts and feelings about this process. I'm sure I will tell you all about them ad nauseam.

In the meantime, welcome to Baby P!