On the cusp between day and night, summer and fall, life and death... boo!

Halloween!

Dutch went as a Hogwarts student. She made some badges (a prefect badge and a Gryffindor badge, in case you're curious) out of construction paper this weekend. Skipper and Baby Baby watched.

Skipper decided to make her own badge.

Pumpkins were carved. Both kids were really manic, and Dutch was cracking Skipper up. Skipper wigged out when she realized what pumpkin-carving entailed, and refused to allow "her" pumpkin to be eviscerated. "DON'T CUT MY PUMPKIN!" she screamed.

Dutch was really, really happy with her costume, which was essentially one of her more school-uniform-type outfits (she loves uniforms, and would be thrilled if she had to wear one for school) plus the wand she earned as compensation for having her tooth yanked, and a cheapo robe Cook found at Goodwill. It had this awful golden collar thing that we were planning to remove, to make it look more like the robes the students wear in the movies, but Dutch decided that she wanted to keep it, because "it's more fashionable, Mom. Those movies were made a few years ago, but this kind of collar is fashionable now."

 Skipper went as an eggplant, because she wanted to wear her purple pants. Unfortunately, her wonderful eggplant hat, which inspired the costume idea, has disappeared, so we made do with a headband, pipe cleaner, and some green construction paper. Of course, the headband came off about three houses into the trick-or-treating, so Skipper was just stomping up to people's houses in a purple shirt and pants, like one of those obnoxious teenagers who go around on Halloween wearing a silly hat over their normal clothes, grabbing giant handfuls of candy. 

We had a technical problem with the flash, but you get the idea.

The kids had a pretty good time. Skipper melted down and had to be taken home early, and even Dutch finally got tired of lugging her overflowing bag around, and they both got to bed way too late. But those are things that are supposed to happen on Halloween, and I consider it a great success.

Science, AGAIN.

We found a TV show that will brainwash Dutch into thinking that science is cool. (Plus, the girls in the show, or at least in the first episode, are completely adorable, for middle-schoolers.) After watching the episode, Dutch started telling me that she would like to do for work ... well, when I got through all the words, it kind of sounded like she's planning to be an ethnobotanist.

A friend of mine in college told me that when she was a kid, her class was asked to draw a picture of themselves in the future, doing whatever they want to do when they grow up. She drew herself as a hippopotamus. The teacher inquired why, exactly, she had drawn a hippo, and she said "My mom says I can be whatever I want to be."

So, yeah, Dutch. Ethnobotany. Bring it on!

Science, again, with grumpy feelings

I've been to the local science museum this week twice, with just Skipper and then today with both kids and Cook. Skipper mostly hung out in the little-kids area. She liked watching the other kids. Both Cook and I were struck by the phenomenon of kids playing while their parents stood beside them, texting (and occasionally taking photos of their kids, presumably to be immediately posted to facebook). This is ubiquitous behavior, but we haven't been spending much time lately around small-kid-attracting places, so we've been re-sensitized. And it's not like we were paying any more attention to our kids, or engaging more with the environment,* just because we weren't on the phone.** But the phone thing feels creepy to me, somehow, and I can't really pick out exactly why.

Dutch did engage with some science, but I was too grumpy to appreciate it. She was driving me completely up the wall by her reflexive response to EVERY SINGLE exhibit/activity, which was to walk up to it, stare at it for half a second, then turn to me and say "What is this?" to which I would say "I don't know. Maybe you should READ THE DAMN SIGN!"***  Then Dutch would read the sign, do something with the exhibit, walk to the next exhibit, turn to me, and say "What is this?"

Anyway. Maybe I should try to get more sleep. And we DID have fun, when I wasn't busy being grumpy.


* We both, on our tours of Skipper-duty, spent lots of time sitting limply on small chairs, staring off into space. Quality parenting time is very valuable to us...
**We still have our antique cell phone, which has no camera, no internet, and only prepaid minutes on it. We usually forget to turn it on- we mostly use it when the kids are in childcare or when we're traveling - and today, as is often the case on weekends, we left it at home. 
*** I've regained some of my voice, but I still sound like a heavy-smoking ogre, which made this exercise even more painful.

Seriously? Why does the woman always do the boring stuff?

I just spent half an hour watching Mythbusters while washing dishes, and it was awesome. Maybe this is the key to getting Dutch interested in engineering. Though if there were more women in serious roles on this show, THAT WOULD BE GOOD.

Silenced

I lost my voice. I've never really experienced this before, except a little bit toward the end of a long day of talking while sick with a cold, but today I've been unable to speak at any volume above a whisper. ALL DAY.

It's driving me crazy, but I can see as how it's also an opportunity to learn a few hard things. Here's what I've learned:
1) My parenting, especially between 6:30 and 9 AM, is heavily voice-dependent. All morning I had to physically track down the kid I wanted to order around, and whisper in her ear, and then hope she did what I asked. This didn't go very well. I actually burst into tears (I'm still feeling kind of crappy from the bad cold that caused the voice loss in the first place, and that plus frustration apparently me into Crazy-Pants Land), which alarmed Dutch so much that she finally started helping out. Lesson: Maybe I Should Try Yelling a Little Less.
2) I had a few interactions with strangers, and as soon as they heard me whispering at them, they started treating me like I was Special, and not in a good way. The thrift store cashier started speaking very loudly and clearly to me, like maybe I was deaf, or possibly extremely stupid, as well as whispering. Lesson: Try to Avoid the (Apparently) Human Tendency to Treat People Weird When They Do Something Slightly Weird.
3) I picked Dutch up from aftercare and walked home with her in the rain. She talked the whole time. I wasn't able to say anything. She loved it.  Lesson: Maybe I Should Try Listening a Little More.


It's been educational, like a little moralizing story for children, possibly involving animal characters (not Struwwelpeter, though, if the universe has any mercy). However, tomorrow I would like my voice back, please.

It's kind of too bad.

Remember how I was all like "Oh noes, we've got to get Dutch interested in science!" I didn't really do anything about it. However, a year late, I've decided that all birthday and Christmas presents* this year for both girls will be science-themed. Better yet, engineering-themed. I think anybody who spent more than twelve seconds in our house would agree that we have enough dress-up and playing-house toys, and the girls are well-grooved into the nurturing-talking-relationship-based Girl Track.**

I really want to get Dutch a snap circuit kit for Christmas, in spite of my recognition that she probably won't like it. The fact is, Dutch doesn't really seem at this time to have any inclination toward engineering - she's sloppy, easily distracted, and whatever the opposite of detail-oriented is. (Like me.) I'm not saying it's impossible that she will grow up with a mechanical inclination, but it doesn't seem very likely. But really, snap circuit kits are pretty cool. So... maybe. And I think I have sold Cook on the notion of getting some kind of construction-y thing like Zoob for Skipper. Skipper's aptitudes are still unknown to us, so maybe we'll get HER a snap circuit kit.

I've already informed Dutch that she will be attending at least one week of science/technology camp next summer. She wasn't exactly elated about it. She actually said "Um... does it involve getting dirty?"*** But she will be elated. Oh, SHE WILL BE.


*That we provide, I mean. If you're inspired to buy Barbie Laundromat for them, please feel free. They'll probably love you forever, and give me crap every year until I die about "that awful Christmas when all you gave me was that snap circuit kit that I hated."
** Skipper has this ghastly baby doll that she loves, named Baby Baby, and she tenderly puts Baby Baby to bed, and rocks her, and tells her stories. Baby Baby recently acquired a puppy, which she in turn nurtures. 
***It reminded me of the awful, awful laundry detergent ad I've been having to watch with my Daily Show doses, in which a mother bemoans her daughter's preference for "hoodies and cargo shorts" - I bet THAT kid would like a snap circuit kit. That kid would LIKE getting dirty.

Dabbling

This month is about free trials. My thinking in setting them up was something like "Hey, free stuff! Cool! Also, it's fun to try new things and see what you like." It's been a reminder for me of what a dabbler Dutch is by nature. She loves all activities - if it involves social interaction and getting to experience the intoxicating first slope of a learning curve, it lights her up, and she gets really excited. I can't think of an activity she DIDN'T like trying since she got past infancy. The problem is that she can't do everything, due to constraints on parental time, money, and energy.*  I think we probably have just stop introducing her to new activities, because You Just Can't Have It All. Stupid free trials.

I also see that we will soon begin really experiencing what it's like when she finds herself on a flattening learning curve. We've had that a bit with school, and also with swimming. She really doesn't want to do swimming anymore, because she ran up against trouble (with side breathing) that she couldn't easily get past. That dilemma is on hold, because the wintertime (indoor) pool is much harder for us to get to than the summertime (outdoor) pool, so I don't really want to deal with swim lessons until spring anyway.**

Free Trial #1: Tomorrow she will finish up her 4-class trial at a kung fu center in our neighborhood. She absolutely loves this class, and came home from class yesterday ecstatic to have been granted a white belt.***

Free Trial #2: Today Dutch had a trial piano lesson. I bought a cheap digital keyboard off craigslist last week, and it's been getting a lot of action, mostly in deploying all the silly "voices" to their maximum annoyance capacity. Cook also taught Dutch how to do a couple of scales, and she really likes that. The piano teacher she met today was about 15 (okay, maybe 25),**** and very cheerful and nice, and she loved spending half an hour with him, messing around with a piano.

So... I'm thinking this kid is not going to be an expert at anything, but she will have tried a LOT of stuff.


*We expect to be somewhat richer soon, once various tangles of red tape are untangled and Cook and I get to start our new jobs. Not rich enough for Dutch to take lots of expensive extracurriculars, however.
**I am, however, going to force her to keep doing swimming, for many reasons, including my belief in the value of working through plateaus (a belief I rarely put into practice in my own life, but I still BELIEVE in it). I'm going to work pretty hard to bribe/force/cajole/trick her into doing swim team this summer.
***This class is perfect for Dutch - it's great exercise, the teacher makes it really fun, and it involves rigid hierarchies and rules, which is pretty much Dutch's favorite kind of learning environment. However, it's crazy expensive, and there are all these martial arts weirdnesses, like everybody bowing to the photo of the founder of the discipline. So Dutch will not be signing up until we win the lottery, and even then I'd have to work through my feelings about the cult-y elements. 
****The place is a co-operative music studio. It's adorable. I think we'll probably sign her up - both Cook and I, in spite of our personal lack of musical training or talent, believe that learning music theory and gaining some competence on an instrument are really valuable, even if you are, like Dutch, pretty much devoid of musical aptitude.

I found the perfect pumpkin...

I took the kids on our traditional annual trip* to The Pumpkin Patch. Skipper hated most of it, and made me carry her most of the time. (She did find a clod of dried mud that she she liked a lot, and she brought it home.) Dutch had a great time. And now we have pumpkins!

*2010,  2009, 2008, 2007

I got nothing. Things are pretty boring here.

Halloween: Dutch is planning to dress as parrot belonging to mummified King Tut. Skipper plans to wear her purple pants for Halloween, but she's not very clear on how this all works. Yesterday she said "Mom, is Halloween a person?"*

Potty training: Skipper's potty trained, but has the smallest bladder on the planet, which means a lot of visits to public bathrooms.

Childcare: We're interviewing babysitters. Anybody know somebody nice who wants to babysit every Tuesday and Thursday in Portland?

Physical activity: Dutch is taking some free (trial) classes at a local kung fu center. She loves it. She's also very excited about the resumption of Running Club at recess on Fridays - the kids run laps all recess.** She explained to me yesterday that she's preferring leggings to tights lately because she loves to run, and she needs to be able to get air on her very, very hot legs.

That's about it. Oh, and we have a furnace that works. And it's raining.

*I bought lollipops for Halloween candy, by the way.
**Is that not awesome? It's very popular with the K-2 kids. 

Two things you need to know about me.

1) I really, really want to watch the Footloose remake.
2) I really, really love the original Footloose.

Born to be Round

This morning Skipper asked for a snack. When I asked her what she wanted, she said "Cheese with butter." I gave her bread with butter and cheese. Then she asked for almond butter, in a bowl, and she ate it with a spoon.

Stuff I Like

1) My boots. Oh, I love them. (In related news, it turns out that tights that aren't fifteen years old and ill-fitting are way, way more comfortable than tights that are.)
2) My new stand mixer. Oh, I love it. You should SEE it mixing stuff! You guys, it CUTS IN BUTTER FOR ME!
3) Skipper's new attitude toward preschool. Apparently being wrenched away from her routine for a week made her realize that her routine isn't all that bad, actually.
4) The internet. We have to hire a babysitter to cover the two days a week when Skipper's not in preschool, because I have a new (temporary, part-time) job,* and the internet is so great for this sort of thing. Remember how people used to put help wanted ads in the newspaper? How did people find babysitters before there was craigslist?
5) My new commitment to being a Tiger Mother for ten minutes a day. I'm pretty excited about this. Dutch is taking an after-school Spanish class two days a week, and she came home from her first class today whining about how she hated the class. She hates it because the teacher doesn't speak any English, and Dutch doesn't understand anything and IT'S SO HARD, MOM. I gave her a stern lecture about how learning is hard, and nothing worth having in this world comes easy** and blah bitty blah bitty blah blah blah. Later, Cook gave her the same lecture*** and then I decided that she would have to practice her Spanish vocabulary ten minutes a day. Tonight she painstakingly made seven flashcards, and memorized their contents. Rrrarr!
6) Our ten-year-old wooden drying rack. The sunshine is finished for the year here in Portland, and wet clothing hung outside will only get wetter.
7) Playdough.
8) Furniture slider pads
9) My bike helmet.


*Yeah, I got a job. It's an internship, actually, and it's a good thing, and I'm looking forward to it, but I'm just not very excited about it, somehow. I would have been quite excited about it two years ago. Now I'm so cynical about the prospect of it actually leading anywhere that I can't dig up much enthusiasm.


** Yes, those words came out of my mouth. I was amazed.


*** Except better. It was a little bit inspiring.

Damnit!

I like Halloween. I'm not a die-hard fan* but there's a lot about it that I like. We're really looking forward to our first-ever Halloween in our own house, and our first chance to actually receive trick-or-treaters. However, now I cannot in good conscience buy a giant bag of chocolate bars. Drat.


*The principal at Dutch's school, who is now in her second year, banned Halloween costumes or other celebration from the school last year. This created a huge ruckus that left me cold - I can't find it in me to care whether or not Dutch gets to wear a costume to school, and I think it's not unreasonable to ban something that will inevitably make some kids feel left out. This year, the parents have organized (with the principal's permission) a parade and costume contest to take place at the school, directly after school gets out. Whatever. 

Water cactus!

We're back. We had a great vacation. We're happy to be home.

The kids turned out to be pretty decent travelers,* even on the day when we got up at 4 AM, flew all day, and then drove for three hours. However, (of course) Skipper required near-continual attention, and wailed/moaned "I want to go hoooooome!" at least ten times a day. Dutch had a wonderful, wonderful time, and beamed with happiness almost the entire week.

This is what we did:
1) Drive around.
2) Spend time with lots of relatives.
3) Pick apples.
4) Go swimming and canoeing at a lake. (On one of the two 80-plus degrees days we experienced in New Hampshire. That was weird.)
5) Drink lots of coffee (or juice, in the case of the non-caffeine-dependent members of the family)
6) Play croquet.
7) Go for walks in the woods.
8) Sit around an outdoor fire at night.
9) See wildlife.**
10) Play legos and blocks and boardgames with tolerant grandparents.
11) Not wash dishes.
12) Collect a bunch of Cook's old soccer and basketball jerseys for Dutch to wear - she loves them, and has been pairing them with a headband worn over her hair, so she looks like she just happened to wander in from the early 1980s and put on a skort.
13) See one of my fabulous cousins get married.

It was a really nice trip. We didn't really have enough time, and there are many friends I wanted to see but couldn't get to, but we got a lot out of the time we had.

Here are some videos of our unexpectedly summery stay in New Hampshire:

We didn't really come prepared for the weather. Cook only brought one pair of shoes, appropriate for the wedding.

Skipper took one look at the lake, and immediately wanted to go in.

Half the party piled into a canoe. This song (related to Skipper's potty adventures) has been stuck in my head all week.

Dutch told her granddad that she knew how to do a cannonball.

And this is Skipper's recap of our New Hampshire adventures at 6 AM on the day we left.

That's all the record I have - we didn't bring the camera, so all you get is one afternoon's worth of videos.

In unrelated news, Skipper just ran through the room, stark naked, shrieking "One! Two! Six! Cow!"



*The most positive development was that Skipper was not afraid of the airplane. She liked it, actually, and hollered with excitement at key moments. When the second plane was taking off, she yelled "Flap! Flap! Flap! Flap!" as if the plane was a sluggish bird.
** We are urban people. Our wildlife consisted of some chipmunks, woodpeckers, assorted other birds, a porcupine, and a toad.

On Vacation

Back soon.

Exactly as it should be

I am now 35 years old.* This is the age I have always felt myself to be, and now I am at exactly the right age. This is it! This is my year. I think I'm just going to stay 35 forever.

Last night, I sat in the dining room in the dark while Cook and Skipper and Dutch lit the candles on my cake. Cook said "Skipper, don't blow the candle out," and then he lit a candle and she immediately blew it out. They finally got the candles lit, and they came out singing. Dutch may be totally tone deaf, and Skipper doesn't actually know how to sing  the Happy Birthday song, so it was a little hard to tell what they were singing, but it was beautiful. My family, in the dark, with candles, singing.** I got a little weepy.

Which is not to say that the whining and tantrums are in any way diminished, but they feel okay today. Tomorrow... we'll see.


* I thought twice about writing this, in case you suddenly feel that you need to send me presents or apologies for forgetting my birthday. If you're feeling that way, you should stop, because I neither need presents nor ever remember other people's birthdays. I'm sure I'll forget yours, and have forgotten it repeatedly in the past. So do NOT feel guilty, because then I'll have to feel guilty, and that's a terrible thing to do to somebody on their birthday.


** "Singing"

Sunday!

Pizza!

Tomatoes!

 

Boots!

Underpants!

 Cake!

Bitchy

We had another family over for dinner tonight; they have a daughter the same age as Dutch. (This is a quiet girl, dreamy and private, an only child whose parents are very mindful and calm about their family life. She and Dutch get along very well, in spite of their very different approaches to life.) As the children ran amok, we, the parents, complained to each other about how awfully our almost-7-year-olds have been lately. Apparently their quiet, dreamy girl has been raging, snarky, and defiant. Just like ours!

Dutch has been really awful. Just awful. Cook and I don't seem to have the tools to deal with this effectively. I just hope it's a phase, and not the way she's going to be forever, because not only will we all be miserable, but she'll also have no friends, ever. Sometimes I'm afraid that we're just screwing up parenting so badly that she's going to be a horrible person, and it'll be our fault. I'm pretty sure that's not true, and that it's just, you know, a normal developmental thing, but sometimes when she's stomping around being a complete asshole, I lose faith that we're doing anything right. So it's nice to hear that her quiet, tenderly-parented friend is turning up nasty, too.*

I hope that we're not doing it all wrong. I'm sure we're doing lots of it wrong. I hear my voice when I talk to** Dutch during one of her tantrums, and it sounds an awful lot like her voice.

Oh, and did I mention that Skipper is also awful these days? I dream of a day when I can get even just ten minutes into a day without one of them screaming, whining, or saying something horrible.

Anyway. The kids aren't ALWAYS awful, and we do some good parenting and lots of okay parenting.  In the good news, Dutch now has a "space maintainer" installed in her mouth, and Skipper is toilet-training herself. We're looking forward to our upcoming vacation. And, hey, my boots are still awesome!



*However, we suspect that Dutch and her friend are operating on different scales of assholery. Their definition of terrible behavior is likely to be quite a bit milder than our definition. 
** By which I mean yell at