TimothyAndHeather.com

Recent Bobbinisms

They're coming too fast and furious to remember and document every one, but here are a few of the ones that made me giggle the most. Inside, of course. Because she's very serious. Most of the time :-)

You are what you eat
We're in the car driving, and Bobbin is watching out the window, looking for birds. She recognizes several varieties by sight from the parks and our back yard, and is able to name them correctly: crows, seagulls, geese, pigeons, starlings, robins, etc. She also is big into categorizing things. Kinds of birds ("a cwow is a kind of bird, mommy. Do you know what else is a kind of bird? A chicken is also a kind of bird. Yes."); things you can ride ("You can ride a school bus, you know Mommy. BUT you cannot ride a house. You know that?"); things you can eat ("Apples and bananas are food mommy. You can eat apples. But you cannot eat a tree" to which I always respond "Unless you are a beaver" and then she'll erupt into giggles herself. They are kinda silly looking animals, I suppose). It's all those Elmo episodes, I think. "can a birthday cake have a friend? NO! But friends can have a birthday party!" If you got that, you're in as sad shape as I am.

So, anyway, we're in the car driving and we come to a red light, and Bobbin spots a bird hopping around in the grass by the sidewalk. "Mommy, look! A Wobin birdie!" she exclaims. I glance out the window and acknowledge the birdie hopping around. The light turns green and we go. Bobbin sits in silence in the back for a few minutes, unbeknownst to me, contemplating deeply. Then she speaks up "You can't EAT a Wobin birdie" she says matter-of-factly. "No, you can't" I agree. More silence. And then, "You have to COOK it first" she proclaims. "Good plan" was my response, and we moved on before she could make the connection between her beloved McNuggets and the fluffy yellow baby chicks at the animal park that she thinks are so cute.

Back in the day
One of the things we've taken to doing, to help Bobbin adjust to the concept of trying or doing something new, is reminiscing about how we LOVED to do it ourselves when we were her age. Like when she was skeptical about riding her tricycle without anyone pushing her. "When I was a little girl, I used to really love riding my bike. I still love to ride my bike! When I was your age, I had a tricycle and I named it George and I would ride it all the time because I LOVED it so much!" We use it for food too "Wow, you don't want to eat your carrots? When I was your age, carrots were my FAVOURITE vegetables. I used to pick them right out of Grandpa's garden and eat them right on the spot, raw, because I LOVED them so much! I still do! Won't you try yours? If you're not going to eat them can I eat them?" It actually works a surprising percentage of the time. But there are the times it doesn't. Like with olives. She will not taste olives. Tim loves them, so he'll ask her every time we serve them. We had a pizza with olives the other day, and Tim gave her a couple from his slice for her to try. Bobbin took the olives that he had placed on her plate, and reached out and deposited them back on his napkin. Then she looked him in the eyes and said, with the most enthusiastic and honest expression on her face "Daddy, you like olives? When I was a little boy, I used to LOVE olives. You can try them if you want to. I used to eat them ALL the time when I was a little boy".

A lasting impression
Our good friends, Jeni and Roger, live in the neighbourhood and we'll occasionally get together either at our house or theirs. They have a son a year younger than Bobbin that she asks about whenever we drive up the hill to the ice cream place and pass by their street. It's been a while since we've seen them last; a few weeks at least. So it was a bit surprising when she came into the kitchen holding her little stuffed pink pig wrapped in one of my linen napkins and said "Mommy, sshhhhhh, my baby brother is sleeping". "Baby brother?" I asked in response, mildly curious. Several of her school friends have siblings so she has some understanding of the concept and she has in the past expressed interest in having a brother or sister of her own some day. NO - don't go there. It's not happening. "Yes, Mommy, this is my baby brother, and over there is my baby sister, Jeni" she said pointing to her little chair where her stuffed panda bear was sitting. "Oh! I see. Your baby sister's name is Jeni. She's very cute" I responded. "So is this your baby brother sleeping in the blankie?" She nods solemnly. "Yes", she says, "This is my baby brother. His name is Roger. His full name is Pig Roger" she said. I couldn't help it. I busted out laughing.

For lack of a peel
Bobbin asked for a banana this morning. She insisted on peeling it herself, so I handed it over, completely intact. After she pretended she was talking to Grandpa Jerry on it ("Hello? Grandpa? How are you? Yeah? Are you coming over? Yep? Ok? Yep? Ok bye") she tried to break the stem and peel it herself, but it wasn't cooperating. Just as I was about to offer my help, she thrust the banana into my hands and said "Here Mommy. I can't deal wif it. I just can't deal" shaking her head in exasperation and seriousness.

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No More Crayons

A couple of weeks ago I stopped at the bookstore and picked up a couple of new picture books for Bobbin. "The Bunnies are Not in their Beds" by Marisabina Russo, and "A Day with No Crayons" by Elizabeth Rusch. Both were instant hits but the favourite by far is the Crayon book. And it seemed I was quite timely in my selection of this book. It came in handy today.

The book is about a little girl named Liza who loves to colour. But when she runs out of paper and gets caught in the act of colouring on her bedroom wall, her mother promptly confiscates the tools of her crime and Liza must get through an ENTIRE DAY without any crayons. She manages to find ways to entertain herself and make and discover art in other creative ways and in the end she finds she didn't miss them so much after all.

Bobbin loves to make art. She absolutely adores painting. And so when I bought her some Crayola Paint Brush Pens for her to be able to keep in her room and use anytime without asking (I'm in charge of the regular paints; they're not readily accessible at her whim) she was really ecstatic.

Usually she sits at the table or her desk to draw and paint but today she decided to arrange herself and her paper and pens on our floor. The solid brazilian cherry floor that just last weekend I had spent hours on my hands and knees cleaning so I could get at every nook and cranny myself. After about 10 months of buildup I started getting annoyed and just generally disgusted whenever my socks, or worse my bare feet, would stick to the floor as I walked through the house. But I digress.

And so I said "Ok, but we have two rules. Can you guess what they are?"

" Y' know?" she replied, which is her usual response to these questions.

"Rule 1: NO colouring on the floor. Colour on the paper only. Not the floor. Got it?" She nodded her head emphatically. "Rule 2: When you are finished your painting, you put the caps on and put your pens away. Ok?" which solicited another somber nod. I asked her to repeat the rules back to me, which she did, and then I asked her what would happen if she didnt' follow the rules. "Mommy take my paintbrushes away and I cannot use them again". We seemed good.

It wasn't 10 minutes later that I then found her laying on the floor on her stomach, colouring book well out of reach, non-chalantly brushing her marker back and forth over the same spot over and over. Purple. On purpose. Clearly intentional. I asked her what she was doing and she looked up and stated the obvious. I picked up the rest of her pens and then spent the next 5 minutes quietly demanding that she turn over the purple one still in her hand. She started out defiant in her "No!" answer, but when she saw I wasn't letting up they turned to pleads, and then she started negotiating and promising "I will not paint on the floor again, I will not Mommy, please, I will not and I will clean it up". She finally turned over the last pen when I showed her the deep purple stain on the hardwood floor. The big, deep purple stain. The stain from the "washable" paint brush pens that refused to be wiped away with soap and water, and that only faded slightly when I applied something a little more harsh. She knew she was done.

I deposited the pens in what I mockingly refer to as the "Cubby of Confiscation" when I use it, or as Bobbin mispronounces it, the "Cubby of Constipation". It's a small wicker basket I keep on top of the china cabinet for just such purposes. Confiscation purposes, not constipation purposes. And then while she was sobbing uncontrollably I took her on my lap and reminded her about her picture book, and we talked about what Liza had done, and what her Mommy had done, and how this was just like what Liza had done and I took her pens away from her for the same reason Liza's Mommy took Liza's crayons away from Liza. In the end she acquiesced. It seemed fair. Liza's Mommy had done the same thing. It happened in a picture book; it must not be so bad.

I managed to get her out of her blues and back to her jovial self by enticing her outside to blow bubbles on the deck after putting the cubby back on the top of the china cabinet. The pens were not forgotten completely however, and she would refer to them repeatedly throughout the day. "Mommy, 'member when I was colouring with my pens and I coloured on the floor and that was not ok and so you took my pens and I cannot have them now until tomorrow, just like Liza". I reminded her repeatedly that Liza managed to have fun despite having no crayons for the day. We went to the park and fed the ducks and geese, and played at the playground, and rode her tricycle all up and down the bike path, and generally had a great afternoon but every so often she'd bring up the pen incident as a reminder. "Member, Mommy, when I did that?"

I had intended to give them back tomorrow but later this afternoon she willingly volunteered to help me clean the house. I gave her our little Dirt Devil portable broom vacuum thingie, and she went to town from one end of the house to the other while I used the "real" vacuum to do the carpets. When we had finished and put the vacuums away, I thanked her and praised her for being such a great helper and gave her a big hug and kiss. And that's when she looked up at me and said "Mommy, maybe I can have my pens back now please?"

This time, I put a mat underneath her paper and pens.

Not even three yet. Man are we in trouble.

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The toilet ring of potty training

If a "silver lining" is the metaphor for an unexpected glimmer of hope from a seemingly otherwise gloomy situation, then the ugly grey ring around a toilet bowl that has seen more than its fair share of use between cleanings is the metaphorical equivalent of an unexpected negative from the otherwise positive benefits of a potty trained preschooler.

A lot of current parent literature tells us that using the phrase potty "training" is no longer socially acceptable because it invokes some sort of negative imagery of toddlers as lower life forms being conditioned into using a potty in the same way lab rats can be trained to push a lever to get a treat. It says instead that we should use the phrase potty "learning". It's somehow more accurate and less demeaning. Whatever. Saying "Bobbin is potty learned" sounds a bit weird. And I wouldn't know whether I should actually pronounce learned in this context as "learn-ed". Which just makes me giggle. So instead I'll say that Bobbin has learned ('learnD') to use the potty every time she needs to go. No more diapers except at night time and even that is "just in case" these days as she almost always wakes up dry.

This is a good thing, right?

Yes, it is. No argument from me here. No more diaper pails. No more diapers. No more space consumed by changing tables, changing pads, diapering accessories and supplies. No more accidents to mop up. No more soiled underpants coming home from daycare in plastic bags with the "evidence" still attached to them. Which brings up another question: Why do they send the poop home with the kid? Do they think we parents won't believe them if they simply write a note that says "Bobbin had a #2 accident today in the playground"? It's not like the poop is the diarrahea variety. It's solid chunks. Shake the pants over the toilet before popping them in the baggy and voila - poop fragments all gone. I promise I'll believe it happened if you tell me it did. But I digress.

Yes, the fact that Bobbin now puts all her #1 and #2 in the potty all the time is a very very good thing. She is proud. We are proud. Life is easier. Life is cheaper. Life is good.

But there is a grey toilet ring around all this goodness. It's not dark grey. Just a mild discoloration. And it is the fact that as a result of her mind being so attuned to her bodily functions, she is waking up at 2am and 5am, like clockwork, every night, because she has to pee. Despite the fact that she still wears the nighttime pullups "just in case", her body has gotten to the point where it recognizes the signs and wakes her up before it happens and she must use the toilet. And after her body wakes her up, she wakes me up.

"Mommmmmyyyyyyyy.... I have to pee mommmyyyyyyyy I feel my pee pee coming MOMMMMMMMMYYYYYYY! I have to pee mommyyyyy I have to pee my pee pee is COMING"

And so I get up and stagger into her bedroom and mumble praises that she woke up in time to use the potty and ddn't have an accident and how proud I am of her. I think I mumble these praises out loud. I hear them in my head. And I hold her hand and blearily escort her to the bathroom and help her onto the potty and sit on the floor in front of her and wait for her to finish.

I have to remain semi-conscious during and after her pee in order to be able to help her back to her bed and tuck her in. She on the other hand confidently collapses into my arms in a sound slumber immediately after she has completed her business. There she will be, slumped forward into my arms, eyes closed, mouth open, snoring, still sitting on her potty with her pullups around her ankles. I have to get her all put back together and tucked back into her bed and empty the potty in the toilet and wash my hands before I can go back to my bed. And invariably, as I said, within 3 hours I'm doing it all over again.

Yes - using the potty is a good good thing. Pleased as punch we've arrived at this stage of life! But I'll be even happier when her bladder is large enough that she can make it til morning without having to pee, OR she starts getting out of bed and going on her own without waking me up :-)

Yes, I want my cake and I want to eat it too. But not at 2am. Or 5. At the more civilized hour of 7, if possible. But I'll take 6:30 if I have to.

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But...

Arrived in my inbox this week, was the monthly newsletter from Babycenter.com that I've been giving since Bobbin was first born, describing the developmental milestones we can expect her to achieve for this month, typical behaviours we're likely to see, and other stuff.

This month we were informed that "The typical young preschooler picks up new words every single day and will soon be able to string them together in sentences from two to four words long". We're well past that. Even when she's not using conjunctions to lengthen her sentences and express more complex ideas, she's easily composing and speaking endless paragraphs of 6-12 word sentences. The appearance of the aforementioned conjunctions though has been swift and noticeable. She loves to experiment with new grammatical structures almost as much as she loves to experiment with new words themselves. The fascination with words is something I expected. The fascination with constructing sentences is interesting and unanticipated in my scientific mombservations. I guess I never thought about the fact that she'd be interested in increasing her skill in sentence construction and explicitely experimenting with that; I thought sentence formation at this age, before she can actually read, would be more organic in nature, and variety would be more resulting from repeating sentence constructs she's heard, and less intentionally creative. But she's very intentional in her sentence experimentation. In watching her take such care in building these sentences and using the conjunctions and other grammatical constructs in intentional ways - sometimes correct and sometimes incorrect but intentionally either way - I'm really learning about how Bobbin is learning. It's waaaaaay fascinating (that's "way" used as an adjective). This week, we've learned how to use the word "but" in much more complicated constructs than the not-surprising "But I don't want to". Take our conversation today in the car.

Mommy: Bobbin, what should we have for dinner tonight? (I knew the answer, which is why I asked; it happened to be the only thing we had in the house having not gone grocery shopping this weekend)

Bobbin: Hotdogs and Macamoni and CHEESE!

Mommy: Sounds like a plan, then!

Bobbin: Mommy, amember peekaboo hotdogs?

Mommy: Yes, I remember peekaboo hotdogs ("Peekaboo hotdogs" are corndogs. Last year - exactly 1 year ago to be precise - we were in Bobcaygeon for my sister's wedding. We went out to lunch to a local cafe. The only kind of hotdogs they had on the menu were corn dogs. Bobbin wouldn't eat anything but hotdogs, so to try and entice her to eat a corndog instead, I showed her that the hotdog was "hiding" inside the crust. She saw the hotdog and yelled, "Peekaboo hotdog!" and henceforth she has referred to corndogs as peekaboo hotdogs. Although she's never seen one since because she made it clear she would never actually eat one).

Bobbin: Mommy, I don't like peekaboo hotdogs, BUT (she empasized it strongly and then gave a slight pause for impact so her audience could notice her usage of the word 'but' and ponder on it) I DO like regaloor hotdogs

Mommy: That's good to know. we'll have regular hotdogs then.

Bobbin: Mommy? You know why I don't like peekaboo hotdogs?

Mommy: No, why don't you like them?

Bobbin: So, because I like regaloor hotdogs, BUT I don't like peekaboo hotdogs.

Mommy: Hmm... you lost me. Can you explain it differently? Why don't you like peekaboo hotdogs?

Bobbin: So, I like REGALOOR hotdogs.

Mommy: Ok. So we'll have regular hotdogs.

Bobbin: Mommy? I like hotdogs but I want macamoni and cheese too. So we can have bowf. Ok? Ok.

Mommy: that's settled then. No peekaboo hotdogs. Only regular hotdogs and macaroni and cheese.

Bobbin: BOWF. macamoni and cheese but also (this time she placed emphasis on the word 'also' which we've also been hearing her experiment with lately) I want hotdogs.

Mommy: Yes. We will have both Macaroni and Cheese, and hotdogs.

Her deductive reasoning skills and cause & effect analytical skills are also growing in leaps and bounds and that's been just as fascinating to observe - to see how she chooses to connect two seemingly unrelated events or ideas. Sometimes the connections are correct and sometimes not, but in either case it's a fun glimpse into the inner wiring of her little neurons and the relationships that she's building up within her brain. The "not correct" relationships are just as, and often more, telling and fascinating as the "correct" ones.

On Sunday (2 days ago) Tim and Bobbin and I were getting ready to go to the zoo. We got in the car, and Tim turned the ignition and the "low oil" indicator came on. Tim turned off the car and went into the house to get a new container of oil. I explained to Bobbin what Daddy was doing when she asked. When Tim raised the hood, the gap at the hinges allowed Bobbin to see through to the engine and watch Tim pour the oil in the car. I explained what he was doing. She noted the black bottle and asked what colour the actual oil was. I told her it was kind of brownish. She asked why it was needed. I explained that the car needed oil to work - that it wouldn't drive properly if it didn't have oil. Tim finished up and we went to the zoo and had a blast.

Almost two full days after the oil incident, I picked Bobbin up today after school. It was sprinkling lightly and my windshield was kinda cloudy. I squirted the windshield washer fluid and ran the wipers to clear it up. The liquid that came out was a dirty brownish colour instead of the usual clear or slightly blue-tinged cleaner colour. I made an offhand comment like "Hmm... that's a weird colour" and was about to move on when Bobbin asked (rather, insisted on) me to do it again so she could see the colour. I squirted more fluid on the windshield and she said "Mommy, know why it is that colour? why it is yucky brown?" I replied "No... not really". "Mommy, amember when daddy put oil in the car? And maybe daddy's oil makes the yucky brown colour. Why Daddy put oil in the car to make it move and it makes a yucky brown colour on the windshield?".

Wild. She had made several connections. One that the oil and the windshield washer fluid source were located in fairly close proximity to one another, under the hood of the car. Despite the fact that she's never seen Tim change the windshield washer fluid. Nor have we ever talked about the windshield washer fluid at any length (although apparently it is a fascinating subject to ponder). And she made a connection that the strangeness of the colour of the fluid (which she's never noticed herself before) must be as a result of the oil that Daddy poured into the car two days ago. I have absolutely no idea if that's the case, but the fact that she thinks so is interesting to me.

Oh, hey, Tim... when you get a chance can you check the windshield washer fluid in the car? It's coming out a yucky brown colour.

Today Bobbin also had her first potty accident in months at school. It occurred minutes before I arrived to pick her up. She was devastated. Embarrassed. Angry. All of the above. After I managed to calm her down and let her know that these things happen and sometimes our bodies just need to go and can't wait for us to finish playing first, I asked her what happened because it has literally been months. "My pee pee sneaked up on me" she blurted out between sobs. "I was playing outside and I didn't want to go potty and I wanted to play and then I felt my pee pee coming but I was outside, so my teacher took me in to the potty but I didn't want to use THAT potty, I wanted to use the other potty and my pee pee came out and I peed on the floor over HERE, see, c'mere Mommy, Look? See that pee pee on the floor? And then my teacher was taking me to the other potty and I peed my pants". She started crying all over again as she relived the trauma. My heart just broke. She was so upset with herself and I could see that she had figured out on her own that she shouldn't have waited; that she should have stopped playing when she felt the need to go. So I didn't think I needed to remind her of that. We got her all cleaned up and she was back to her old self again (after I managed to coax her into wearing her running shoes without socks since they too were quite soaked from the incident). Although her old self these days is really all about defying Mommy and Daddy and seeing just how far we can push the "No" and the nasty voice tones until something happens (which these days is pretty swift; I have VERY low tolerance for nasty tones of voice - from anyone, at any age. It's really unpleasant and I'm hoping that because there are swift and consistent consequences that we can get through this "testing" phase fairly quickly). Anyway, we got everything taken care of, got dressed and then headed home which was then where we had both the oil/windshield washer discussion followed by the hotdog discussion.

Is it any wonder at the end of the day I'm mentally drained?

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Hazard lights and sprinkler hoses

Today was a blast. Bobbin slept in until 8am after not going to bed last night until after 10pm and not having a nap at all yesterday. She woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, singing to herself. Eventually she started calling for me. We had breakfast - waffles and oranges - and then ran down to the Starbucks to get Tim his croissant and coffee, and then immediately headed out to the park in Juanita - the one with the big wooden "castle" shaped play structure. She saw it from the parking lot and ran all the way up hill until she was inside it, and then ran from slide to slide, ladder to ladder, balance beam to balance beam, and back and forth and back and forth. After about an hour of that, we decided to go for a walk in the forest and ended up completing the 0.3 mile loop and then going another quarter mile round trip to the little stone grotto on the edge of the woods and back.

We zipped through McDonalds' on the way home for takeout; she was starving. Then home where she devoured her meal and then crawled into bed at 2pm and slept for 2 hours straight. When she woke at 4 we ran up to the grocery store, bought all the fixings for a lasagna dinner, and then came home and cooked. She cooked, I should say. All I did was brown ground beef in a pan, stir some sauce in, and preheat the oven. She assembled the entire thing without my assistance. Scooped the meat into the pan; layered the noodles; mixed in ricotta cheese; sprinkled the final layer of mozzerella and parmesan onto it. Except for putting it in the oven; that was my job too. She even cleaned up after herself.

Have I mentioned how much I love the learning tower that we bought a few months back? The thing is a miracle. She's so self sufficient and she's so much safer on it than she would be standing on a chair.

While the lasagna was cooking we went outside and enjoyed some fun in the sun. First she helped me clean out my car; she kept coming up from the deck with glasses of water for me to drink that she had poured herself from the container I had I filled with ice water and put on the table outside. It has a spout with a button, which entertained her to no end, and turned her into quite the hospitable little hostess. "Mommy, would you like some water? Yah? Ok! I'll bring you some! Here you go!" she'd yell while running enthusiastically up the path from the deck with a little plastic cup filled with water. I must say it was refreshing in the heat. Then she'd run back down after I drained the glass, and would pour some more and run back up. Not bad. Not bad at all.

After we got the car cleaned out I let her play "driver" and she took me on a pretend trip to the park. At one point I got out to toss something in the garbage bag that was still lying on the ground behind the car from when we had been cleaning and when I looked up, my hazard lights were flashing. I asked her what she had done and she said she "pressed the triangle so people would stop and help". The girl does not forget a single detail she's ever told. I had shown her that triangle button about 6 months ago when we somehow got on the topic of why people use signal lights (she watches the cars in front of us driving, and whenever their brake light or signal light turns on she asks what happened and what they are doing. So I've explained to her all about signalling, braking, and how you know what the car in front of you is doing, and why it's important to let the cars behind you know what you're doing. She's even pointed out drivers who have turned without signalling. It's a bit unnerving). Anyway - she had decided on our imaginary trip that we needed some roadside assistance and had turned on the hazard lights. We took care of our hazard and proceeded to the park.

At this point I then filled her pool and turned on the fountain and she splashed and poured water everywhere including on the plants, which were very grateful. Then she decided she wanted to go get her bathing suit on and have me spray her with the hose. Entirely her idea. So we changed and she spent the next half hour running around in her swimsuit trying to dodge my jet spray and screaming with glee whenever I zapped her with the cold water. We climbed and slid (and discovered that it's not as much fun to slide down a plastic slide in a bathing suit as it is to slide down in full-length pants) and climbed and ran and climbed and ran and got soaked and then came inside, changed, and ate two helpings of the lasagna once it had cooled sufficiently.

I have some video of the lasagna making that I'll post when I get a chance to piece it together. But in the meantime, enjoy our car and sprinkler photos!

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The eternal question

Why?

The answer 42 does not carry any meaning with an almost-3-year-old. Neither does the eternal answer "because". Sometimes creative answers that involve magic, fairy dust and wish flowers hold water and satisfy temporarily, but usually it just leads into even more fantastical lines of questioning that become ever more challenging to answer with the same amount of gusto and creativity.

On the ride home from B, D, and Z's tonight, the line of questioning went something like this. And it's worth noting, that this was about 9:45pm - an hour and 45 minutes past her bedtime, and she had no nap today at school.

we went from tunnels to the rotation of the earth on its axis in 20 minutes, after passing through a seemingly endless set of other topics - one question after the other. Always "how" or "why".

Are we going through 2 tunnels to get home?

Yes, that's right.

why are we going through 2 tunnels?

Because that's how many tunnels there on the way home?

Why are there no brushes in the tunnels?

Because the tunnels are not carwashes; they are tunnels.

Why they are not carwashes?

Well, because, that would slow traffic down considerably and some people may not want to wash their car on the way home.

Why you would need to go slow if there are brushes?

Because I wouldn't want to damage the car or the brushes.

Why you would hurt the car?

Because if I went too fast it might scratch the car. Or I might hit the brushes and break them.

Mommy, is that the space needle?

Yup, that's the space needle.

How you go up the space needle?

Do you remember how we went up the space needle last time?

You know?

Yes I know. Do you know?

How, Mommy?

Did we jump to the top of the space needle?

Noooooo.

Did we fly to the top of the space needle?

Noooooo!

Did we ride our bicycles to the top of the space needle?

NOOOO!

Well then, how did we get up there?

You know, Mommy? how?

We rode the elevator.

Why we rode the elevator?

Because it would have been a very long walk?

And we would get tired?

Yup.

Why I didn't like the elevator?

I don't know; why didn't you like the elevator?

You know?

I actually don't. Can you tell me?

I don't know. Why?

Was it too fast?

Yeah.

Was it too high?

Yeah.

Did you think it was a little bit scarey?

Yeah.

Then that's why you didn't like the elevator.

Why?

Because you thought it was too fast, and high and a little bit scary.

Why I didn't wait at the bottom?

Because you're not old enough to wait by yourself.

Mommy, is that a tower on the bridge?

Yes.

Why that tower is there?

The tower does two things; first if it sees a car in an accident or in trouble on the bridge it can call the police to help. Second, if it sees a boat in the water that is waiting to get to the other side of the bridge, it can stop traffic and lift the bridge so the boat can pass through.

How it lifts the bridge?

Well, I think there are a lot of ropes and pulleys.

It ties a rope to the bridge?

I think the pullies and ropes are underneath and machines lift it up.

Why it lifts the bridge?

So tall boats can pass through.

Why tall boats want to pass through?

So they can get to the other side.

Why they want to get to the other side?

I dunno... why do you think they want to get to the other side?

You know?

Well, any number of reasons. Maybe they want to get to the other side because that's where the rainbow ends and they think they'll find a pot of gold.

Mommy, there's no rainbow. I don't see a rainbow.

That's because it's dark right now.

Why it's dark?

Why do you think it's dark?

Because the sun has gone to bed.

GREAT ANSWER! The sun has gone to bed.

Why the sun has gone to bed so it can shine on another part of the world?

Because everyone in the world has to share the sun, and it can only shine on one side at a time. Now it's Australia and China's turn to have the sun so they can have daytime.

How the sun shines on the other part of the world? How?

Well, the world is like a big ball and it turns around and around, and we live on one side, and other people live on the other side. And when our side faces the sun we get daytime. And as the world turns the sun sets and we get nighttime and other people get daytime.

How the world turns, Mommy?

Hey - look Bobbin, there are the circus tents!

Why those soccer field lights are on? Why I can't see people playing soccer?

I guess the ended the soccer game and someone forgot to turn off the lights.

why they forgot to turn off the lights?

Well, did you call and remind them?

No

Then that's why they forgot.

Mommy, why I'm tired?

Maybe because you've been asking so many questions?

Why I'm asking so many questions?

Because you're a bright and curious little girl.

Mommy, you tired too?

Yes, sweetheart. I'm very tired. But we're almost home.

We were literally less then a quarter mile from home when she finally dropped off to sleep. Didn't even wake when I picked her up, brought her in the house, laid her down on her bed, removed her coat and socks, and tucked her in. Still soundly sleeping. Dreaming of tall ships and drawbridges, tunnels, elevators, and a big blue ball in a sea of black spinning around a yellow sun, or something.

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It's 9:15pm. Do you know where your preschooler is?

Ours is in her room, in bed, "reading" her "Hand, Hand, Finger Thumb" book to herself out loud as she bangs her legs up and down on the mattress in rhythm with the "dum ditty dum ditty dum dum dum" words.

I need some chocolate ice cream.

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I need a raise

I came across this little gem today:

Mom's Salary Wizard

According to this, as a Working Mom in the Pacific Northwest someone oughtta be paying me about $40K for my mom duties - this is above and beyond the salary my actual employer pays me for the 50 hrs a week I spend at my "day-job".

I have the invoice. Just need to know where to send it to claim what's mine - about $100K plus change at this point. Hello? Anyone out there writing checks for mom duty?

I know, I know... the joy of raising a child are reward enough. And really, who can put a price tag on what my role as mommy is really worth?

18 years of books, toys, clothing, food, transportation, shelter, education/childcare: $425K. (Don't take my word for it - there's a calculator for that too).

Raising a healthy, confident, independent, morally, fiscally, and socially responsible child: Priceless.

Of course, someone forgot to tell Bobbin that "she is reward enough" when she had a massive screaming temper tantrum over her "nite-nite" music at bedtime this evening (and then an even more massive one when we turned the nite-nite music off).

Joy.

Happy. Happy.

Joy. joy.

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Look out John Coltrane... here comes Bobbin

Bobbin plays the sax (video)

I love how she has to turn the saxophone 360 degrees when she needs to press a key with the other hand. It's an interesting technique :-). She loves playing "High note, low note" on her sax and piano where I'll call out "high note" and she'll play the highest note and then I'll call out "low note" and she'll find the lowest note. She also likes the game where she plays a note on the saxophone, and I play the same on on her piano.

My favourite part of this video though is near the end with the skeptical look she gives me when I announce to her she just played "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", and then she repeats it for herself and yells out "I did it!"

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Can you guess what we did today?

That's right... The Elmo concert was in town, and we headed up to Everett to see it, with friends Jeni and L. Bobbin was SOOOO excited. As soon as we got to the door she handed the lady her ticket to scan and then ran inside jumping up and down, hugging her little elmo doll excitedly and shouting for me to "Hurry Mommy, HURRY!" Our seats were on the floor level and she couldn't get her little legs to go down the stairs fast enough; especially after she heard Big Bird's voice from the hallway. She was pretty darn adorable. The total Elmo groupie.

After the concert she saw this big poster you could stand in front of to get your picture taken, and she went into jumping up and down mode again, excitedly pointing to it and calling "Mommy! Mommy, LOOK! Mommy, look!" When I took this picture I thought she was literally about to burst with happiness.

We eventually made it home, and had quiet time from about 2:15 - 4:00pm. When she woke up, we headed out to Fred Meyers to pick up the ingredients for dinner (we made our own pizza for dinner; completely with pilsbury dough-boy pizza dough, pizza sauce, pepperoni, and ample mozzerella. I should say - she made the pizza. Completely by herself), and a pool because dammit, it was hot. 103F-in-the-sun hot. So said both of our outdoor thermometers. It was a lovely 93F in the shade. She seemed to enjoy herself.

After we finished playing, and making our pizza I got out this watermelon quarter to slice up and have with our pizza. It had been in the fridge so was nice and cold. But when I put it on the counter, Bobbin was so excited to see the size of it she jumped up and down with joy and then begged me, politely, not to slice it but to let her eat it whole. She was so sincere and polite and happy and it was freakin' hot, and how could I possibly say no? So here she is, chowin' down. She actually managed to get almost to the rind in some spots before deciding she was all done.

All in all, a totally fun day for both of us. These photos barely scratch the surface; our photo album has lots more from today's concert and heat wave and yesterday's trip to the dairy for ice cream. And you should also check out last week's soccer pics and fun at school.

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More Bobbin vignettes

All night, and every day

It was a beautiful day today. Blue skies, sunny, high 70's. I had picked up Bobbin from school a bit early and we were sittin' in the car with all the windows down so Bobbin can enjoy the sun and light breeze. It was rush hour, so we were in gridlock. A car next to us with a couple of teenagers in the front seat had their car stereo blaring. Bobbin asked me "Mommy, what's that kind of music?" "Umm... that's rock and roll, honey", I replied.

"Mom, I wanna rock and roll" was her response. I kid you not. So I tuned into 96.5 because if she was gonna rock, it was going to be to classic 80's tunes. She stared out the window absently and I watched her little leg bopping up and down to the rhythm. My girl wants to rock and roll :-)

Out of the mouthes of babes

It's a classic scenario. You're out in public and your little preschooler, still learning the fine art of social etiquette, notices something that's a bit different about someone. Maybe the person is way taller or shorter than the average person, or wider or skinnier, or walks with a limp, or is hunched over, or has unique facial features, or purple hair, or a voice that stands out. And you hear her little voice pipe up loud enough for all to hear, "Mommy, Why is that person [fill in the blank]?" and you turn red as strangers stare disapprovingly at you and try and figure out an appropriate way to answer her sincere and innocent question without adding further offense while simultaneously trying to teach her that pointing such things out really loudly is actually not really the polite way to ask the question and yet the question itself is still ok to ask...

Yeah, so that was me and Bobbin in the parking lot of PCC the other day. We were strolling hand-in-hand and right in the middle of the parking lot Bobbin stopped, pointed, and called out "Hey, Mommy? Why is that lady so big?"

And she was... a very very large lady. And i have no idea if the lady herself heard the question. I know that Bobbin was asking it out of innocent curiosity and not out of any sort of mean spiritedness. She had never seen someone quite that large, and so she wanted to know more. It was nothing more than that.

I did get a dirty look from a woman behind me as she walked by. Someone who clearly has no children. And who was not completely free of her own curious characteristics.

So, I responded in a normal tone of voice to Bobbin and said "Well honey, people come in all kinds of shapes and sizes and everyone is different. Some people are tall, some are short, some are big, some are small. Some have lots of hair, and some have none. Some have dark skin, and some have light skin. And that's what makes the world such an interesting place - everyone is different and special. Just like you. No one is the same as you; no one is the same as anyone else."

And while I believe everything that I told her, I couldn't help also constructing the mental image of a miniature Mr. Rogers sitting on my shoulder smiling, and patting me on the head. As much as that man annoyed me when I was still in my "I'm not having kids" stage of my life, I appreciate him a million times more now because those are the messages he was trying to get across.

Whenever we are out in public, and Bobbin asks "What's that?" or "What's that person doing" or "Why does that lady talk like that" when someone in a wheelchair whizzes by, or when a man is walking slowly in front of us with a cane, or she hears the developmentally challenged woman speaking who helps out at the coffee shop we sometimes go to, I respond in a normal voice because I also don't want to offend by offering a whispered response or whisking her away. And usually the person will look right at us and smile and chime right in with the actual answer to her question and all is well. Sometimes they'll ignore us and that's fine too. And then the next time a wheelchair or man with a cane goes by, or she hears the lady at the coffee shop talking, she doesn't point it out or ask about it. She just continues about her business because it's not unusual anymore.

I'm gonna what, now?

We were sitting in the car on the way to get Bobbin's haircut. I was a bit frustrated because Bobbin's hairdresser had moved shop and the directions I had been given when I called were not panning out, and I was in the middle of nowhere with a cell phone that was about to go dead, and almost ready to call it quits. Bobbin sensed my frustration and asked if I was ok, and I explained I was feeling frustrated and why. And then I got my bearings straight and figured out where I was and all was calm, until an obnoxious teenager in his daddy's BMW decided to cut me off and then immediately switch lanes again and almost caused at least two accidents, one of which would have definitely involved me if I didn't have the split-section reflex response of a... well... mom of a preschooler. I cursed the driver with a nasty tone under my breath as he sped away (he subsequently ran a red stoplight, causing me to curse some more) and after I did so, Bobbin piped up from the back seat with a very loud and very firm, menacing tone that matched my own and said

"Mommy! You're gonna DIE!"

Just like that. Out of the blue. And in the split-second silence that followed I was racking my brain to try and comprehend WHERE in the world THAT came from, and whether it was in response to my cursing (I'm going to die and go to hell for swearing) or in response to the bad driving on the part of the little shithead who almost hit me (the dude could have killed us and Bobbin was pointing this out in her usual, direct, manner) or whether she was having some sort of premonition ala "Medium" and forsaw my death in her mind's eye. Or was saying it out of pure malace and this was the first of many warning signs to come that we were raising a little sociopath and someday our story would end up as a made-for-tv movie.

Luckily the logical mommy part of my brain took over before any of these ideas had a chance to really percolate and I realized that she must have heard it somewhere... school maybe... and that the frustration and emotion that I was expressing and that she was picking up on had triggered a memory of it because wherever she heard it had the same emotions surrounding it. But where the hell did she hear it?

So I responded by asking her what she had just said, as objectively as possible so she'd actually repeat it without sounding sheepish or embarassed or defiant. And she said "You're going to die, Mommy" in a more matter-of-fact tone without all the emotion and menace in her voice this time. I shivered and shook it off. "Why did you say that, sweetie? What does it mean? What does 'die' mean?" I asked. "You know?" was her response, in her usual curious voice. I felt a bit reassured. "Well, honey, when someone dies that means that they can't... uh..." and I found myself racking my brain for an explanation that doesn't involve an analogy to sleeping and not waking up, and that also doesn't imply that once one is dead they simply no longer exist because I actually don't believe that to be true; one continues to exist in the hearts and minds and memories and actions and values of everyone who knew the person but that concept was way too abstract for her to grasp at that age. So I settled on "well, when a person dies, that person is no longer able to be with you. They are gone, and can't hold your hand, or talk to you or hug you or kiss you. You remember them, but they cannot be there in front of you. And if the person is someone you love very much, you can feel really sad for a long time when that person is dead. Because you really want that person to be there in front of you, to talk to you and hold your hand and hug you and kiss you. So when you say to someone they are going to die, it's actually a very scary and sad thing for that person to hear".

Again.. no idea what of that explanation stuck. So I turned instead to trying to find the source and hopefully the context of the statement. "Why did you say this, sweetie? Did you hear someone else say it?" She nodded. "Who did you hear say this? Was it someone at school?" She nodded again. "Was it Lukey?" Lukey is a boy in her class with an older brother, and I've noticed lately that Lukey's taken to pretending to shoot guns at people. He'll stand there with a block in his hand, hold it out and point it at someone or something and then say "Pew pew pew pew" making shooting sounds and then grin and run away. In other words, he's a typical little boy with an older brother to teach him these games. Maybe Lukey had said something along these lines during one of his little "shooting" matches. She shook her head. "No, not lukey". "Then who, Bobbin? Where did you hear this? Who said it? If you tell me that, maybe I can tell you more about what it means".

She looked at me and said "Satsuki said it". Satsuki is a character in her favourite movie, "My Neighbour Totoro". And I knew that she was telling the truth because as she said it, the scene from the movie in which Satsuki screams at her younger sister "DO YOU WANT HER TO DIE?" and then breaks down into tears, came vividly to the forefront of my mind.

In the movie, Satsuki is a little girl about 10-12 years old, with a young sister who is about 4 years old. Their mother is in the hospital being treated for an unnamed disease. At one point during the movie it looks as though the doctors at the hospital are going to let the mother come home for the weekend, but then she catches a cold and they change their mind. They send a telegram to Satsuki's house but her father is at work so Satsuki opens it and reads it and all it says is that her father must call the hospital at once. So she walks into town and calls her father from the house of the one person in the village that has a phone, and her father phones the hospital and then calls Satsuki back to say that their mother will not be coming home that weekend. Mai, the younger sister is disappointed and has a tantrum, yelling "Not fair!" and in desperation and frustration, Mai's cries of unfairness finally getting to her, Satsuki finally crumbles, turns on her sister, and yells "DO YOU WANT HER TO DIE? MAI? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT" and then breaks down into tears and runs away. Leaving Mai with her own feelings of despair and abandonment, to break down into tears herself.

It's a very dramatic scene. And apparently one that Bobbin remembers vividly.

So I explained in detail what Satsuki was feeling when she said that, and reiterated my earlier explanation of what happens when someone dies and that the thought of not being able to hold her mommy's hand again or hug or or kiss her ever again, made Satsuki so very very sad just like it would make Bobbin sad, and that's why she shouted those words to her sister.

I think something resonated with Bobbin because she reached forward and asked to hold my hand, and I reached back and grabbed it, and she squeezed my fingers and I squeezed her back. Then she smiled at me in the rearview mirror and I smiled at her, and we were at the hairdressers.

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Spell it, Hot hot hot!

Now that Bobbin recognizes all her letters, we've been working on learning how to write them. A few weeks ago we started with the letter 'H'. 'H' for 'Horton', to be precise. We read the book almost every day.

'H' for 'Horton': One line down, another line down, and a line straight across the middle!

It helps if you do the lines with flourish - that makes it much more exciting to want to do. She loves making huge, sweeping, 'H's on her chalkboard and then erasing them with just as much gusto. Almost every picture she brings home these days from school has a bunch of large, skinny, 'H's scrawled all over it.

After a week of 'H' we started learning 'T'. Probably should have done the other way around, if we were going by # of "brush strokes", but she seems to be catching on fast, so don't think it made any difference

'T' for 'Tommy': One line down, and another line across the top!

Next came 'O' for 'Octopus' and 'Oven'. That was easy because she's been drawing circles for a while.

'O' for 'Octopus': One big circle.

So today we practiced putting them together into a word. I wrote each letter next to the other, and then we sounded them out together. Then I erased it and had her write the letters side by side. 'HOT' is officially Bobbin's first written word :-)

She gets that every letter has a sound, but she hasn't quite made all the associations yet. However, she's getting there. Completely on her own, when I asked her for a 'T' word today, she came up with 'Tree'.

We haven't tried tackling lower case yet. Everything we do is upper case. I do point out "small" and "big" versions of each letter from time to time, but currently her recognition is all upper case letters.

She can recognize the words "Mommy" and "Mom" though, in a written sentence, although occasionally she'll interchange them. I showed her how you can turn "Mom" into "Mommy" by adding an "my" at the end. And how it rhymes with "Tommy" and all but one letter are the same. She loves to rhyme - often times in the car on the way to school she'll make up all kinds of words to rhyme with the word she's thinking about.

After we mastered "HOT", I decided to try a new letter, and showed her how to write "D". One line down, and one big bump that starts at the top and goes all the way down to the bottom. She gave it a shot but then became more interested in colouring in the middle of the letter when I finished so we ditched the ABC's altogether and just went all out drawing and colouring in random, oddly-shaped circles :-)

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Shhhh... Artist at Work

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Best. Game. EVER!

I just spent the last hour playing "quiet time" with Bobbin. This was entirely her doing. She decided she wanted to turn the living room into a preschool, and got out floppy bunny, and peter rabbit, and giraffe, and laid them all down for quiet time. They each had a blanket, which was actually a cloth napkin from my linen drawer (Bobbin has decided my linen drawer full of napkins is actually the classroom's "extra blanket" cubby. All of my linen napkins are now strewn about the house, covering some stuffed animal or another. Floor, tables, chairs, sofas, etc. It looks a bit like a morgue for really tiny people around here).

Once she had tucked in all her toys, she spread a blanket out for me (a human-child sized one) and told me that I needed to have quiet time too. I laid down on the blanket on the sofa and she told me to close my eyes, and she proceeded to tuck me in. If I opened my eyes, she'd stroke my forehead and whisper "Shhhhh... mommy... it's quiet time. Close your eyes ok? I'll read you a book after quiet time but not if you don't go to sleep, ok?" As I laid there with my eyes closed, I could hear her moving around the room checking and retucking-in each of her other "kids", and saying in hushed tones "ok now, go to sleep, ok? It's quiet time now". Then she proceeded to pile a bunch of extra stuffed animals in around my legs and head and elbows for me to cuddle with while I lay there.

At one point she disappeared and was gone so long i was starting to wonder what she had gotten into. I got up and tiptoed down the hall to her room and peeked in. She was quietly playing with her toys on her bedroom floor, but she glanced up and saw me and quietly ordered me back to bed. I complied.

And so, that is how I got almost an entire hour nap this morning, after being allowed to sleep in until 8am to begin with. And now Bobbin herself is having a real quiet time so here I sit, wondering what to do with myself, being all rested and everything.

"Quiet Time". Best game ever.

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Differences

I have been contemplating the impact that the difference in technology and information access in 1973 when I was two, and today when Bobbin is 2, has had on Bobbin's view of the world. Just little things, mind you - not deep philosophical pondering. But it's the little things that are interesting to think about. Like...

Bobbin is convinced that all content that she views on the television is on-demand and completely controllable by a wireless remote control. she cannot grasp the concept that some of the shows she's watching real-time on the actual TV channel, are one-time events that are viewable only at that point in time, only in the order presented and are not repeatable, fast-forwardable, re-windable, or chapter-selectable. One of her favourite TV shows in the morning while we're getting ready for school is "Curious George". We do not have any "Curious George" shows on DVD or recorded to hard disk so her only option for watching it is to tune in at the right time on the right channel. And sometimes she doesn't, and gets disappointed. And it's near impossible to explain to a two-year-old why some stuff on the TV can be seen anytime and other stuff can only be seen at certain times. We've also stopped allowing her to choose the scene she wants to watch in movies - we've instituted the "beginning to end" rule for all recorded or DVD media. If she stops watching before the end, then when she comes back to it we do let her decide whether she wants to watch from the beginning or pick up where she left off. But no more chapter-choosing at whim. It was just getting too out of hand and I wondered about what sorts of neuron connections, associations, and assumptions, were forming in her brain with this ability to seemingly be able to "cut to the chase" or at least the content of interest with everything. I didn't want it to start translating into other aspects of life :-)

By contrast, of course, at the same age Bobbin is now, I was watching a black-and-white television that required you to get up and turn the dials, and the concept of a VCR let alone a DVD player or "TiVo" was still science fiction for most. And we got, maybe, a handful of channels. I didn't know and didn't care, as long as I could watch Polka Dot Door, and the Friendly Giant. And if I didn't happen to tune in, I couldn't ask my parents to call it up from the hard disk to watch it on demand. I had to wait until the next day and even then, it'd be a different episode. I had "missed out". Nor could I skip to my favourite parts (I hated Marigold, and loved Polkaroo. What a difference that functionality would have made. Not ;-)

Side note: Yeah, they had colour TVs back then, but we didn't actually own one until we moved back from Germany in 1979, and at that point I had already spent 3 whole consecutive formative years tv-less - and phone-less, I might add - in a foreign country.

Bobbin has a CD player in her room, and collection of music CDs that she loves to listen to - everything from Sound of Music to Sesame Street Sing-a-longs to Sharon, Lois and Bram, to the lullaby versions of Led Zepplin and Johnny Cash. She knows how to take out and put in the CDs by herself, knows how to start and stop them, and how to adjust the volume. And she does this on a regular basis, choosing the music that suits her mood.

At her age, I was listening to vinyl records, on my parent's record player in our living room at the farm. Sesame Street, Bambi, and countless Christmas Carol records. And of course, my parents' Neil Diamond and Nana Miskouri. Mom and Dad had to put them on because the record player was out of my reach - for good reason. Doesn't take much to damage that little arm or the needle inside it, not to mention the records themselves. Eventually, at the ripe old age of 4, I graduated to having my very own cassette tape player that I could use all by myself, and which I did use to listen to all my stories on tape. It was black and had a big silver switch that you pushed forward to play, and backwards to rewind. It looked like a little mini gear shift. I was always envious of the kids that I knew that had the cassette tape players with the big bulky buttons though because I preferred pushing buttons to moving the switch. I liked the big clicky sound the buttons made.

CDs and DVDs present an interesting challenge in and of themselves. There are some little silver discs that are usable only on the computer. Computer games like her favourite Sesame Street game. There are identical looking little silver discs that contain only audio content and no visual content. You can use them on the computer, or in the DVD player, or the CD player but you only ever hear stuff. You can't see stuff. Then there are the little silver discs that lets you see stuff and hear stuff. But they only work on the Computer or in the DVD player. If you put them into the CD player nothing happens. But damn if you can tell the difference between the three when you're only 2 and haven't learned how to read yet. And it gets downright nutty trying to explain it so she understands. I think she grasps the concept now - they all look the same, but do different things and don't all work in the same machines, and when she has additional context (like if they are in their case and/or are sitting near a particular type of "player") she can figure it out mostly. DVDs mostly come in rectangle cases and we keep them near the TV. Music CDs mostly come in square cases and they hang out near her CD player but also near the computer. Computer games come in both types of cases but you usually only find them on the shelf above our computer.

The computer is something she totally takes for granted at this point. It's just another part of her world - she doesn't give it any thought. It's like the fridge, stove, washer, dryer. You have one, and you play games or look at pictures or watch movies or listen to music, or type stuff and that's just what you do. She knows what we use it for; she asks to play games, look at pictures and movies of herself and Tim and I. She even recently dictated a letter to Aunt Sarah :-) The games are vivid, exciting (note, we're talking pre-schooler exciting. Big Bird, Elmo, and a bit of the Cat in the Hat thrown in for good measure), with full surround sound. My first computer was a commodore Vic 20. I copied lines of code from the manual into my TV screen via the huge klunky keyboard that also housed the actual "computer" to make it turn colours, and thought that was way exciting. The sounds that were emitted from the TV speakers sounded like SOS signals.

If Bobbin wants to see a picture or video of something... anything... from astronauts gliding through space, to the ancient pyramids of Egypt, to a live stream of newly born panda bears frolicking in the zoo to a volcano erupting in a cloud of black ash and rock (we'll stick with educational stuff, thank you) I just pull up my browser and away we go. She thinks it's fabulous. I'll ask her what she wants to see, she'll tell me "Giraffes" and voila - we're at the Woodland Park Zoo web site, or National Geographic, or any other number of places scrolling through countless pictures and videos of Giraffes. On demand. Instant knowledge. Instant gratification. You just gotta have your search safety settings on "high", avoid using image search, and weed out the crap. That's what Mommies are for. Later, Parental Controls will start getting involved as well. And the computer will be staying in the kitchen :-)

The telephone is another interesting piece of technology that has evolved over the years. When I wanted to pretend I was talking on a phone with just my hand as the prop, I would hold out my thumb and pinky finger... cause the receivers were those big bulky ones that curved slightly so your mouth was actually near the mouthpiece. Bobbin pretends she's talking on the phone by holding her hand up to her ear. Like you see people who are talking on cell phones doing. She pretends that the digital timer is a phone because it is the same compact size and has a digital readout and little buttons. She also doesn't think the fact that I take and view pictures on the same apparatus that I use to make phone calls is anything to write home about. It's a phone. It's a camera. It's a photo album. It's the thing mommy uses to read her the email that Aunt Sarah sent her. It's the thing mommy always has in her pocket :-)

The iPhone, which is the kind of phone I have, is likewise seeming to have its own impact on Bobbin's view of the world. She thinks nothing of the fact that when she gently traces her finger over the picture it scrolls to the next picture. Or that she can enlarge and shrink with a pinch of the fingers. It just makes sense to her. Everything should work that way in her view. Everything that looks like that, and can do those things. It's fascinating to watch her interact with it.

All the lights in our house are on dimmer switches, and I've noticed a tendency for Bobbin to use the same phrases as she does with volume to express how bright or dark she would like the room to be. "Turn the light louder, mommy". She likes her lights loud, especially in the bathroom.

Instead of your traditional photo albums, we have printed picture books of Bobbin - the kind you format online with digital photos you upload, and then order in hardbound printed format. The pictures have captions, and are sized and formatted in various ways, and she loves "reading" through these with me. Tim gave me a digital photo frame at Christmas and I loaded it up with pictures of us - the two of us, and then the three of us. Bobbin was mesmerized by it. we have your traditionally framed photos of Bobbin too, but even those were taken by digital cameras (her Santa picture was printed out on the spot and even came with a CD). I remember my first camera. It had a flash cube that turned automatically, and a film cartridge that you popped into the back. I remember taking the film to the drug store to get developed, and getting the pictures back a week later. No instant gratification there. In fact, I still have little tubes of film in various drawers around the house that have to be at least 8 years old, because I started using a digital camera exclusively around then.

Bobbin knows how to unlock and lock my car with a press of a button on my key fob remote. It makes the headlights blink too, and a cool little beep. She likes to do it while standing in the kitchen in front of the french door. She'll hold out her hand, aiming through the glass at the car, and press the button and giggle. She likes to make the car "wink" at her :-)

Banking and money-handling is another aspect of life that has fundamentally changed. Bobbin does have a bank account and we'll make rare visits to the local branch to dump the contents of her piggy bank into the coin sorter, and make a deposit. But even on those visits, we don't interact with the teller in person. I have eto walk up to the video teller, pick up the phone, and talk to someone on a television screen. When we need to exchange actual stuff like deposit slips and cash, I put it into a clear plastic tube, press a button that causes it to get sucked up a pipe into nowhere, and then a few minutes later it comes back down with different stuff in it. Way way different than the visits to the bank that I recall when I was a kid.

Most of our banking, however, is done online so we don't do a lot of actual branch visits. Our bill payments are done online, so rarely will Bobbin ever see us writing a check for something. And our purchases are all done with our debit card so cash rarely changes hands. I remember when ATMs started to make their first appearance, and thought it was cool that you could walk up to a machine, stick a card in, and get money out without having to interact with a person. Toronto Dominion Bank came out with the "green machine" as the nickname for their ATM. When I was old enough to get an ATM card for my savings account (I think you actually had to be 14 to be given an ATM card at our bank) I thought that was way cool and was so proud. I was very careful with it.

When we go grocery shopping together I try and make sure I have some coin or paper bills, even small ones, on hand so I can let Bobbin "pay" for part of the groceries. But sometimes all I scrounge up are some pennies and nickels because I didn't have time to withdraw cash and Bobbin will proudly deposit these on the counter at the grocery store. Luckily the cashiers at our local PCC are happy to humour us, so I'll have a $50 total and then she'll subtract the 17 cents that Bobbin gave her and let me pay for the rest via my debit card.

Right now our primary focus with Bobbin on "Money Management" is saving - putting stuff in her piggy bank and making deposits into her savings account. On occasion I'll give her a little bit of money while we're in a store and ask her if she wants to buy something with it or save it so she can buy something more expensive later when she's saved enough. So despite the fact that almost all of our transactions take place electronically now and a little plastic card seems to magically pay for everything at whim, we are trying to teach her the value of money and making smart decisions, and that money is something you earn, not something you just have in endless supply. eventually when she's capable of grasping the concept, she'll be allowed to check her account balance online with our help but we're a ways out from that. It's definitely different though, because that little plastic debit card does seem so magical (not as magical as a credit card will seem when she understands the difference, but still). So for now we'll stick to cash-on-hand and counting out the stuff in her piggy bank.

Yeah... times, they are a-changin'. I can't wait to see what Bobbin's own blog entry will look like as she contemplates the differences between her childhood and her child's childhood. What will be the "blog" of the future? Maybe she'll just be projecting little 3-D holograms of her memories into a special nook of cyber space, accessible only by wearing the full-body sensation suit and viewing helmet. She'll be able to recall and project smells and tastes of her youth to her cyber-audience - comparing the aroma and palette of her favourite food - those oven-warmed frozen meatballs that were actually still made with meat from real animals - to that of the test-tube grown version of the same in the future. "I remember when they slaughtered animals for meat and the steak-on-a-stick that I used to love so much came from an actual cow" will be the thought that drifts alongside the images, smells, and tastes. Mmmm.

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Random Bobbin Pics

A bit of what we've been up to in May:

For the full scoop on all of these photos as well as many more, check out our May Photo Album. Videos to be posted soon!

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Random Bobbin shorts

We've been talking about nicknames. It's in one of her story books, I think, where we came across the concept. I asked her what her nickname is. She exclaimed, without hesitating, "POPPINS!". And so Poppins she is. She's pretty consistent on this answer too. Go ahead... next time you see her, ask her what her nickname is. According to her, my nickname is apparently "honey". Ok.

We were in the bathroom this evening, having her bath. I haven't mentioned anything about Mother's Day coming up. I knew that Tim had though. He's been prepping her for the day because apparently she and Tim are going to get up together, letting mommy sleep in, and they're going to make me breakfast. I have to tell you, I'm pretty excited. The notion of sleeping in alone is pretty exciting. Breakfast of some sort, made by my daughter and loving husband, is a sweet bonus! And so, wanting to help secure this plan for myself, I non-chalantly asked "Hey Bobbin, do you know what this Sunday is?" "Yup!" was her enthusiastic response as she dumped a cup of water over her head and then erupted into fits of hysterical cackles (yes, cackles. Not giggles). "What is it?" I asked. I was expecting her to come back with her infamous "You know?" response, which is what she does to almost every question I ask ("No, actually, I don't know why you just painted your face blue and squeezed glitter glue into your head. That's why I was asking"). But instead she stopped, stood up, and jumped (in the bathtub; giving me a small heart attack in the process) up and down and yelled "MOTHER'S DAY!" and then resumed to dumping water over her head and cackling.

Her favourite story these days is "Odd Velvet". It's been on her bookshelf for about 2 years now but only recently was rediscovered. We've read it 7 times in the last two days. She sent me to bed with it tonight. "Here Mommy, here's a nite-nite book for you. You take it to bed with you, ok? But be careful. Careful mommy. This is a special book, and it can break so you need to be careful. Ok? Ok. You can take it and read it now". She's looking me straight in the eye to confirm I've understood and will comply. That's how I was "dismissed" to bed this evening. With the same sort of attitude you would expect of the Queen dismissing one of her ladies in waiting. "You can go now. We thank you for your loyal service and shan't be needing you any longer today".

Like Odd Velvet, Bobbin is totally into rock collecting. Every article of clothing that has a pocket in it also has about a pound and a half of small and medium sized pebbles in each pocket. Her pants are usually sagging when she's walking, running or playing, because they're weighted down with rocks. We have to thoroughly shake down her laundry before tossing it into the washing machine. Her teacher is constantly scooping rocks out of Bobbin's cubby at school. Bobbin's apparently garnered a reputation amongst the entire school staff for her rock collecting and it's a source amusement as well as pride if any one of them are lucky enough to receive one of these gems as a gift, willingly given by Bobbin. Bobbin spends great portions of her outdoor time combing the playground for rocks, pocketing them, and then depositing them in her cubby when they go back inside, to "keep them safe". Many of her classmates have since picked up the hobby as well. Every time I pick her up from school when they happen to be playing outside, yet another classmate hands me a bunch of rocks. Bobbin of course, insists that I take her rocks first. And I always do. I have rocks in every coat and pair of jeans I own too, as a result. We have rocks rolling around in the back of my trunk and back seat, and in the little trinket cups at the base of her car seat. I have a rather large collection of rocks growing on my desk next to my monitor. Each one lovingly plucked from our driveway and carefully pocketed until she decides to bestow one upon me as a special gift. 24 rocks. That's how many are sitting on my desk as I type this. Eventually most of the rocks make their way back into our driveway. She's very selective in the ones she picks up, but I'm not entirely sure what catches her eye in particular when she decides to pick up a rock. We talk about the texture and colour and shape and relative size of each one. And each one is a marvel to her. My little future geologist.

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Don't be taking that tone with me

Bobbin has a couple of friends that are a bit more defiant, demanding, and bossy in their verbal expression than she has been up to now. We've successfully navigated through the "whiny" waters with Bobbin but now find ourselves wading knee deep through the confrontational, demanding and bossy tones of voice that Bobbin's started imitating and experimenting with us.

The "whiny" period was thankfully short lived. Because that whining tone is really grating on my nerves and pushes all of my buttons. We managed to get through it with daily repetition of "no whiny voice please; try that again with a normal voice" and me demonstrating the difference between a whiny and normal voice

Mommy: Bobbin, do you understand what a whiny voice is?
Bobbin: You know? (her response to just about every question even when she knows the answer)
Mommy: Let me show you. I'll talk in a whiny voice, and then I'll talk in a normal voice.
Mommy (whining): I don't WANT to wash my hands. I don't LIKE green beans. No, I don't WANT to go to bed". That was my whiny voice.
Mommy (normal): I don't want to wash my hands. I don't like green beens. I don't want to go to bed". That was my normal voice.
Mommy (whining): THIS is WHYyyyyy-ning. It's reeeeeaaaaalllllly annOYing, I don't LIKE WHYyyyyy-ning.
Mommy (normal): this is my normal voice. It's much more pleasant. It's not annoying. I like this kind of voice. Do you understand the difference now?
Bobbin: Yup.
Mommy: So what voice should you use to tell mommy what you like or what you're feeling or to have a conversation?
Bobbin: You know?
Mommy: Should you use your whiny voice?
Bobbin: (with glee and excitement) NO!
Mommy: Which voice should you use?
Bobbin: My normal voice. Like this. See? Mommy? Is this my normal voice? Mommy, you happy now? You not frustrated anymore? I'm not whining. I'm talking wif a NORMAL voice! See!

Often times these conversations. - these little "reinforcements" of the behaviour that I'm trying to teach her - take place while she's sitting on the potty. Because she's a captive audience. I'll usually start off "Hey Bobbin, remember when.." like "Remember when Mommy was really frustrated because you were trying to climb the bookcase, and I told you the bookcase was not made for climbing on and asked you to get off, but you kept climbing and didn't listen to mommy?" and we'll talk about what happened, and why I was angry, and why it was not ok that she had been doing that, and then not ok that she didn't listen and do as I ask, and then why she found herself in a timeout in her room until she could start listening and doing as I ask, etc. Seems to work pretty well.

So yeah... no more whinies (or at least they are now a rare occurance) but the whole demanding and bossy tone is new. And sudden. And it's definitely learned behaviour. And we're trying to nip that in the bud. Kinda taking the same tact as we did with the whinies. But it's harder because it means biting back the initial instinct to use the same demanding tone of voice to get her to stop using it with me. Because she is clever enough to use it against me. And has.

Bobbin: I WANT COOKIE OF THE DAY COOKIES!
Bobbin: COOKIE OF THE DAY COOKIES! NOW! MOMMY! GET MY COOKIES!
Mommy: How do you ask?
Bobbin: PEAS! GET THEM NOW. I WANT THEM NOW. (her hand slaps the ottoman for emphasis).
Mommy: It's good you remembered your please. But I don't like your tone of voice. You need to use your nice voice to ask.
Bobbin: NO! I DON'T NEED TO! I DON'T LIKE THAT! I WANT IT
Mommy: NO! NOT UNTIL YOU ASK IN YOUR NICE VOICE
Bobbin: Mommy, that is not your nice voice, Mommy. That's not ok.

$%#$^&! And double #$(O%)#!

Mommy: You're right. So let me say it again in my nice voice. No. You cannot have any cookies. I don't like your tone of voice. It is rude and disrespectful and makes me feel angry.
Bobbin: Mommy. Ok. I'm using a nice voice now. Peas, can I have cookies?
Mommy: I'm sorry. It's too late. Next time you want something try asking in your nice voice the first time, and maybe you will find that you'll have a better chance of getting what you are asking for.

Sometimes she accepts that and moves on. But most of the time she throws herself on the floor and has herself a nice little teary-eyed, fist pumping, leg waving, howling tantrum first. But I ain't budgin'. No cookies for you, kiddo. Not even if you use your nice voice now.

I hate feeling like the mean Grinch who stole Christmas but the alternative is much much worse. And I've watched enough Nanny 911 episodes to know that to be the truth.

The bossiness is new too. She's tried several times to order us around like we're her hired help. Or not even. "Go get me the monkey plate. I want more water now. GET my water. Turn on Nemo. I want to play dough - YOU go get it". And let me tell you, none of this is flyin' with us either.

It's all part of the age, and she'll learn. Just like she did with the whining. And just like she learned to say please and thank you without prompting (80% of the time, anyway). And just like she learned to help clean up after herself. And just like she learned how to use the potty all the time. It'll all come. But that doesn't mean I have to like it while we're still going through it :-)

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Stuff we do in nice weather

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My own little Dora the Explorer

The magnifying glass, the "bug book" and the dora backpack were all Christmas gifts from Ginger and Spicey. Bobbin's favourite DVD at that time was Dora the Explorer, and in particular the "Bugga bugga" episode where she goes hunting for bugs. Bobbin would sit and play with my address book, pretending it was her bug book just like Dora's, so I figured she needed one of her own, since my address book is really the only place I keep everyone's addresses and phone numbers (I'm still very old fashioned in that respect :-)). So for Christmas, I... er... Ginger and Spicey.... got out an old photo album - the kind that fits one picture per page, rustled up some old nature and gardening magazines, and bought a bunch of bug stickers and scrapbook paper and made her a "bug book" just like Dora's. I just cut out the scrapbook paper into 4x6 rectangles, pasted a bunch of bugs on each one, slotted them into the album sleeves, and stuck a bunch of cut-out magazine letters that spelled out "My Bug Book" on the front cover, and voila. I bought a heavily discounted Dora the Explorer purple backpack (discounted because some of the Dora games that came with it were missing their tiddlywinks, cards, and dominoes) and threw the bug book and a 99-cent magnifying glass into it and wrapped it all up from the kitties. The kitties like bugs. And they also like Bobbin being occupied with just about anything but them. And so it was a logical gift. They're also very crafty and creative like that. They really would have done the whole thing entirely themselves if they had opposable thumbs and a tiny bit of cash.

Anyway, she loves it and drags it out on a regular basis and usually requires me to put the Dora DVD in the TV at the same time so she can play along.

I have to say when I first looked at the top picture, it didn't look to me like a little girl who is still 4 months shy of her 3rd birthday. She looks so much older here for some reason, to me.

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Great Big Friends

Bobbin and Miss E got together last weekend and had their own little Great Big Sea Kitchen Party.

Click to view video

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Tubed and denoided

Overall, today's ear-tube replacement and adenoid removal went extremely well.

Bobbin had some serious issues getting to sleep the night before surgery. Tim and I think most of it was anxiousness. I think she was having stress dreams whenever she closed her eyes. She was up at 10, 11:30, 12:30, and 1:30 and between those times was sleeping fitfully, moaning and often crying out. at 11:30 I took her temperature and she was running a slight fever - 99.8F on one side and 100.3F on the other. I gave her the water that she requested (midnight was the cutoff for food and drink although I would have violated it if she had maintained the fever) and a dose of Tylenol. The fever came down, but she was still restless and moaning and up at twice more before finally falling asleep more soundly around 2am.

So when the alarm went off at 5am both Tim and I were beyond exhausted. We finally roused ourselves out of bed at 5:20. I downed some yogurt and juice before waking Bobbin at 5:40. I wasn't hungry or thirsty at the time but I knew I would be if I didn't take in something and eating/drinking in front of her was out of the question.

Bobbin was basically awake when I went into her room. I have no idea how much actual sleep time she got but it wasn't much. She was a bit cranky because of nerves, I think, but she got out of bed and slipped on her shoes and socks and by the time we had made it to the kitchen she was in good spirits. As if we were headed off on some grand adventure in the wee hours of the morning. Not entirely untrue, I guess :-)

We arrived on time at 6:30 and checked in. Bobbin coloured with the crayons and papers I had brought with her, and never let go of her "Koko Bear" ear-tube book the entire time. Every time a nurse introduced herself (and there were many who wanted various pieces of information) Bobbin would immediately ask "Where's Dr. Lee?" (her ENT and the doctor performing the actual surgery) and then when the person would walk away she would say "I don't like --fill-in-the-name-of-the-dr-or-nurse--. I want Dr. Lee" emphatically and then pout. She had definitely bonded with Dr. Lee and formed a very deep attachment in the last visit. No one else was going to be able to get close to her without having first been clearly approved by Dr. Lee. Man I was hoping that nothing would come up that would prevent him from being her surgeon this morning!

Eventually Dr. Lee's assistant Sue led us back to the preparation area. There were some little hospital jammies laid out (which Sue said were optional; Bobbin decided to keep her own jammies on the entire time). There was a little anesthesia mask on the table for Bobbin to play with so she could get used to the idea (she knew what it was as soon as she saw it, without anyone saying anything. Thanks Koko!). Bobbin was fascinated by the curtain that sectioned us off from the hallway, giving us our own private "room". She kept peeking around it and spying on the nurses and doctors walking by.

Sue came back a little later and asked Bobbin if there was anything she needed. Bobbin replied quietly "Yes. I would like a surprise". I started to explain that the surprise would come after surgery but Sue said they do in fact have surprises before surgery too, if someone requests it, and asked Bobbin if she'd like to come with her to get a sticker. Like there was any chance of Bobbin saying no to a sticker. However half way through the curtain she stopped and held out her hand and invited me to come with her.

She walked the hallway behind Sue like she owned it, little arms and legs striking out purposefully, eyes glancing into every prep area, scanning for other patients. She picked a Clifford sticker (although she doesn't know who he is, I don' t think) and ran happily back to our prep area to show Tim.

The "where's Dr. Lee? I want Dr. Lee. I don't like anybody else. I like Dr. Lee" questions and statements continued to pepper any conversation with Sue or any of the other nurses and the anxiety returned with ever new face she encountered. Sue patiently confirmed repeatedly that he was on his way and would come see her when he arrived. In the meantime, Sue brought her some "happy juice", the pre-anesthetic, after conferring with the anesthesiologist. And boy, did things change from that point on.

First we had to convince Bobbin to take it though. The excuse that finally got her to cave was that Dr. Lee had phoned Sue and asked Sue to give Bobbin this medicine, and she needed to take the medicine before Dr. Lee could see her. Bobbin eventually let Tim give her the dose while she was seated on his lap. A few minutes later, she had visibly relaxed. And about 15 minutes later, she was higher than a kite and goofy as all getout.

Sitting on my lap, she was playing with the anesthesia mask, holding it up to her eye and shouting at the top of her lungs, in slurred speech, "Mommy, I seeeee yooooo" and then busting into fits of drunken giggles. Then she'd hold it up to her mouth and slurrily sing "Twinkle twinkle little star" and then bust into more giggles and goofy grins. Now whenever someone new came into the curtain, she'd look at them through the mask and shout"Hi! I seeeee yooooo! Whooooo are yooooo? I seeee yoooo" and then grin her dorky drunken grin and whoever it was would just burst out laughing. Trying to have a serious conversation with the anesthesiologist about medication allergies, health history and other details essential to him doing the exact right stuff for our daughter during surgery while having a 2 year old spying at you and him through an oxygen mask, wiggling her finger at you through the mask hole and sing-songing "I seeeeee you, you know! Hey, look, it's got my finger!" limp as spaghetti in my arms the entire time, is quite challenging. Even he was starting to crack up as he watched her out of the corner of his eye while he carefully listened to my answers and noted them all down. Thank goodness for professional training and years of experience ;-)

After the anesthesiologist left, Dr. Lee came in to check on her, and was greeted enthusiastically with the same routine as everyone else since the happy juice had been ingested. He laughed.

Eventually, his surgery nurse came back to introduce herself and to take Bobbin back with her to the operating room. Bobbin expressed the tiniest bit of anxiety when the nurse picked her up from me, but was then quickly distracted, presumably by all the psychedelic swirling colour and noise that I was fairly convinced she was experiencing, and when she left she was even smiling. And her mouth was half-open. And she was staring off into space. Much better than last time. I learned later that she had been given a little extra happy juice which explained the totally different demeanor this time around. Last time she barely registered any change in tension and the separation was angst-ridden for both of us. And as a result of her doing much better this time around, I fared much better too. I didn't cry.

The actual tube replacement and adenoid removal took about 10 minutes total. But we were in the waiting room for a bit longer than that. When it was over, Dr. Lee came out and told us it went really well, she did great, and that they did end up removing her adenoids because they were very big. Her old tubes, in addition to being filled with gunk, had apparently been pressing up against the eardrum and the eardrum I guess had pushed them back out. So they were essentially less than useless and definitely would have explained the hearing problems as well as the sensitivity to high and low pitch noise.

A little while later the nurse came to get us to take us back to her. She was just coming out of the anesthesia, and completely disoriented. And cranky. As we were warned about 10 percent of kids would be. I guess the pre-anesthesia has an amnesia effect and essentially she wouldn't remember anything at all after taking her dose. And then of course, there was the irritation from having a tube down her throat during surgery that was still sensitive as she became aware of herself, as well as the effects of the anesthesia itself. She also still had her IV in, and a finger probe measuring her blood oxygen level, which she was desperately trying to tear off when we arrived in the recovery room.

Bobbin is extremely, EXTREMELY strong when she is cranky and upset. And even stronger when she's anxious and cranky and upset. It's hard to keep a grasp of her, and she can actually hurt you, unintentionally of course, if you aren't prepared for it. We were though, and we quickly got her settled into my arms where she started dozing a bit more after finally winning the blood-oxygen probe battle, the nurse deciding it would do more damage than good to keep trying.

We got the IV out of her and got some fluids into her mouth (she drank thirstily from her sippy cup that I had brought) but refused the Popsicle, jello, and applesauce and so they relented on their "rule" to watch the patient ingest something other than sugar and let us leave with us promising that we'd fill her tummy at home with appropriate soft foods.

When we did get home, she tore into a plate of soft pancakes, drank a tonne more water, took a 2 hour nap, and then downed 2 servings of mac & cheese and 1 1/2 hot dogs. And then decided to go out to play and life was back to normal. Yes, just like that.

She went to bed at her usual time, but as I've sat here blogging about this experience, twice her baby monitor has erupted in chatter - she's dreaming vividly, and talking quite animatedly with someone about something. I think it has to do with today. It's excited, happy, confident chatter. I'm pretty sure her brain is working through all the bits and pieces of odd memory that she has lying around from this morning. She's not crying out (fingers crossed) and not upset. I think we'll have a good night of it tonight.

She's on ear drops 3x daily for 5 days, and oral antibiotics 1x daily for 5 days, and we have Tylenol with codeine for pain as needed for the next couple of days but she seems to be faring well, only occasionally complaining about throat pain.

They left her tonsils in because they didn't appear to be enlarged (whereas her adenoids were quite so) and Dr. Lee doesn't think they'll present any problem in the future.

And so hopefully this is the last ear tube replacement we'll have done. By the time she grows out of these she should have outgrown the ear infections, her Eustachian tubes having grown and oriented themselves more vertically to allow drainage to occur unassisted.

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Prepped for surgery

Well, we're as ready as we're gonna be. We've spent the last couple of days talking with Bobbin about what she can expect at the hospital, the sequence of events that will take place, reading her books (yes, they write books for kids on the subject of ear tubes), and play acting the actual visit. Tomorrow morning at 5:45am we'll be rousing our little munchkin and making the 30 minute trek to the hospital where we'll arrive at the receptionist promptly at our 6:30 checkin time, and then wait for 60 minutes until our 7:30 surgery time. the surgery itself will last about 15 minutes once she's out, and then we'll spend the rest of the day at home. 2 days of prep for a 15 minute procedure. We'll see how it goes :-)

I bought 3 books from amazon.com: "Koko Bear's Big Earache: Preparing Your Child for Ear Tube Surgery", "Tubes In My Hears: My Trip to the Hospital", and "Chris Gets Ear Tubes". They are all pretty much the same, but having multiple consistent stories is a good thing for Bobbin; She listened intently and studied the pictures and pointed out objects and asked questions and by the end of the 3rd book she pretty much had it down pat. Her favourite was Koko though. There's just something about a cuddly little bear that makes everything more endurable.

So we read the books and in particular I focused on how Mommy and Daddy were going to wait in the waiting room while she went with the doctor and nurse to the special operation room. The special operation room is a very clean room with no germs and so only the doctors, nurses, and Bobbin would be allowed in, to keep it clean and safe for her surgery. we practiced saying "Bye! See you later!" cheerfully. I played the doctor, Bobbin played herself, and Tommy served as Mommy. I would tell Bobbin to give 'Mommy' a kiss and hug and tell her that she'd see her later. She'd crouch down and wrap her arms around Tommy. "Bye bye Mommy! I love you! I'm getting new ear tubes!" she'd exclaim happily, and then we'd go down to her bedroom which served as the "operating room".

The next thing I focused on in the books and in our role playing was the special medicine mask that they would have her breath into, to help make her sleepy so she could nap. I explained they could only put the ear tubes while she was napping, because then she'd be very still. I held a pretend mask in my hand and held it gently up to her nose and mouth and told her to breath in and out. Then asked if she was sleepy, and she replied yes and closed her eyes. Then I wiggled my finger just inside her ear lobe of each ear and said "There, all done! You can wake up now Bobbin!"

The last thing we spent a lot of time on was the fact that the doctors and nurses had to wear masks so that they could keep the air clean and safe and not spread germs during her surgery. I talked about how the masks kinda look a bit scary at first, but if you look at the doctor and nurses' eyes you can tell what they're feeling and if they're happy and relaxed, their eyes will look happy and relaxed. So just because they were wearing masks, you could still know that everything is ok by looking at their eyes. we practiced making happy, sad, angry and scared faces while covering our mouth and nose. I'd cover my mouth and make a face and ask her to guess if I was happy or sad. She thought it was pretty hilarious.

We played acted the whole scenario through several times - at Bobbin's request. She would enthusiastically arrive at the "waiting room" (living room) with 'Mommy' and wait for me to call her name. I'd pretend that I didn't know which one she was, when she stood up and introduced herself, I'd say hi and then go over to talk to her 'Mommy' and explain that I had to take Bobbin to the operation room and that 'Mommy' would have to wait here. She'd give 'Mommy' a hug and then 'Mommy' would roll over on his doggie bed in a sigh of relief as she gallivanted up the stairs and ran down the hall to the 'operation room' and clamoured onto her 'operating bed'. We'd do the whole anesthesia thing, I'd stick my fingers in her ears, she'd 'wake up' and we'd run back to the 'waiting room' to do it all over again. Then she became the doctor and Kitty became the patient, and I was kitty's mommy who had to wait in the waiting room, etc. etc. etc.

I suspect the enthusiasm will not be quite as great tomorrow. Some apprehension will surface when we actually arrive. And I don't know what to expect at all in the whole waiting room parting. She could surprise me. On Monday when I took her to see the cardiologist, my normally shy and cautious-with-strangers preschooler actually disappeared down the cardiology department hallway, following the nurse she had spent all of 10 minutes with, on the promise of getting stickers and a lollipop while I was still in the examining room talking with the doctor. And she came back with a fistful of both (before I could gently admonish my little sticker-grabber the nurse did admit that she had been intentionally free with the offering because Bobbin was just so sweet and had done so well during all the procedures ;-)). Likewise she surprised me by letting the doctor examine her without much preamble, and then in the middle of her stethescope exam exclaiming to the doctor quite directly and animatedly "Oh! You have cold hands, you know". That's my girl - always full of surprises.

So who knows what to really expect. we've done what we can to make sure she knows what's happening and that she's feeling upbeat about it at least at this point. She may surprise us, or she may be sweetly and heartbreakingly sad and scared. Either way, we'll be there for her, to cuddle and love her.

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Cutiepie cut-up

Bobbin's been playing with scissors since just before she turned two. Supervised, of course :-) But it's only recently that she's finally mastered the art of cutting. "Mommy, I wanna cut" is what she says when she wants to practice with her scissors. Cute, in a creepy kinda way ;-)

About the same time that she started actually "getting it" was also about the same time that the mouth synchronization appeared. Not exactly sure where it comes from, but it is SOOOO adorable the way she moves her mouth as she's cutting. It's the mouth movement that's the whole point of this video.

That and the last little bit that discusses the dangers of cutting while emotional ;-)

Click to view video

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Two Tractors

More photos from our fun in the sun today.

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April showers brings...

...out the tie-dyed umbrella and rain hat, and a trip to the arboretum among other things. It's mid-way through April but I've been remiss in posting any updated photos, although we've been having quite a bit of fun!

Here's what we've been up to thus far this month. I also added quite a few pictures to our March photo album that I hadn't gotten around to publishing previously. Easter Sunday, the Mariners' season opener, among other things. Enjoy!

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Books on CD during the morning commute

On a whim about a week ago, I bought a copy of a "Nemo" book + CD for Bobbin, thinking it might be interesting change of pace to have her listen to a book on CD in the car instead of the usual music (lately she's been alternating between "The Nutcracker" ballet suite and "Sharon, Lois and Bram's Travellin' Tunes". She has a range of musical tastes ;-)). I was also curious as to whether she'd "get it" - ie, the concept of reading the book while it is being read to her on CD.

I learned to read by following along to recordings of books on cassette tapes. I remember I had a bunch of book+tapes that my parents had bought me. My favourite, though, was Cinderella. And it was the summer before 1st grade, our first summer in Germany, that I recall vividly sitting on the floor of my bedroom in our 2nd floor apartment, cassette tape recorder on the floor next to me, book in lap, finger underlining each word as it was spoken, that I learned to read "and they lived happily ever after. The end". The cassette ended but I sat there and, with my right index finger pointing beneath each word, I read it over and over and over and over and over again, and I was so proud. And it was more than just knowing where one word ended and the other began. I already knew my ABCs and I knew the sounds letters made. And just repeatedly having the story read to me with me following along, it all eventually sunk in and then clicked. What a feeling that was.

So I was curious as to how much Bobbin would be capable of grasping, and also admittedly want to be able to watch over the course of the next 2 years, if she liked the concept and stuck with it, of it clicking with her as well.

When I picked her up at daycare I showed her the Nemo book and the CD, and explained that I was going to put the CD in the CD player and it would tell the story and she could follow along in her book. And she would know when it was time to turn the page, because the CD would make a special sound.

I popped the CD in, and had her keep the book closed while she listened to the instructions. They narrator explained that when you hear the "brrrrriiiiiiing" sound of the chimes, that was a signal that it was time to turn the page. She seemed to get it. Then the first chime sounded, and she looked at me and said "Mommy, time to turn the page?". I smiled and nodded.

The book is a paperback and she still has a bit of trouble manipulating the thin paper pages one at a time; often times they get stuck and she'll turn more than one. But she got the gist of it pretty quickly and before long was saying to herself instead of asking "time to turn the page".

Nemo was a good choice because she loves that movie and has watched it several times, and it had scenes directly from the movie in the book illustrations, and much of the sound from the movie included in the narrative. And there were a couple of times when she missed turning the page at the right time, but realized that she must be on the wrong page because the story as she was hearing it wasn't matching up to the picture on the page, and she'd look up puzzled and ask "turn page now?" or exclaim "I missed a page!" The familiarity with the sounds and the images helped her figure out whether she was on track.

We're a long ways away from her tracing her fingers over the words and reading them for herself, but it was so much fun for her to be able to "read" independantly and know when to turn the page.

I think the next purchase will be Cinderella :-)

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More on James Marshall, and keep 'em if you got 'em

In my last blog entry I wrote about Bobbin's current favourite story: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I briefly mentioned that the version that we have is the one retold and illustrated by James Marshall. Bobbin has gotten so much joy out of listening to the story and looking at the pictures, and I've derived so much joy from reading it with her (both from the standpoint of enjoying the story myself the way the author retells it, as well as enjoying having Bobbin cuddle close to me, and the interactive dialogue that ensues as she engages with the story and with me) that I decided to see if he had any other retellings of classic tales.

A brief search on Amazon while I was writing the last blog entry turned up several: Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs, and Hansel and Gretel. He also did a version of Cinderella. And I learned he also had a whole series of characters that he had made up and written about - most notably George and Martha, two hippopotami.

So today I decided to take a little time and head down to the local bookstore to see what I could find. While I like the convenience of ordering online, I like the instant gratification I get from going to the bookstore.

Children's books has become a real hobby for me since I first learned I was pregnant with Bobbin 3 1/4 years ago (good grief! It's been that long?!). I've always been an avid reader myself and so it was a natural thing for me to start spending more and more time in the children's section of the bookstores looking for the books that I remembered fondly from my childhood, and seeing the new stuff that was out there. Finding all the new beautifully or cleverly illustrated books as well as beautifully or cleverly told stories as well as all the old favourites. For me, it's more than just the best sellers. "Knufflebunny" and "Where the Wild Things Are" and the Eric Carle books are good stories, but they are also on every bookshelf in every children's book-nook, in every bookstore's children's showcase display, and every daycare, doctor's office, dentist's waiting room, bank, coffee shop, and just about anywhere else that attempts to entertain children while their parents are busy doing something. I like to find the fun, interesting, zany and creative books that are hidden behind these ones. That's the thrill of the hunt, I guess :-)

Oddly enough, I don't recall any James Marshall books from my childhood. But the discovery of George and Martha in my James Marshall research sparked a distant memory. Perhaps from school or the library. They were written in the early 70's right when I would have been the right age for them, so it's entirely likely.

At any rate, I found only one of his several books in the bookstore after much searching and sifting through book shelves. This was the same bookstore in which I had found and purchased Goldilocks a few weeks ago. I remember noting at the time that it was strange they only had one copy.

In fact, interesting to note, my search for hardcover James Marshall books was eerily similar to my search for Berenstain Bear books earlier this year. In both cases, there were no hardcover versions to be found. In both cases, there was only an odd paperback version of a single book to be found wedged in between all the other paperback picture books on the bottom shelf where they pile that stuff in no apparent order. And in both cases the reason given was that the hardcovers are probably out of print, and "I guess the books just aren't that popular anyway". Who the hell is running these bookstores, and can they even read?

I even went to The Other Bookstore, and didn't even find any soft cover versions of his books. They had absolutely nothing.

At any rate, I bought the one paperback copy of James Marshall's Three Little Pigs, and then came home and ordered online what I swear is the last remaining hardcover version of his Little Red Riding Hood, along with a softcover Hansel and Gretel. They should arrive next week just in time for Bobbin's ear tube & adenoid surgery which will be a nice treat for us afterwards.

Having such a difficult time finding any of his books made me want to know a little bit more about him. Hence the link to his wikipedia entry at the beginning of this post.

It's a brief article, but the sentence that struck me the most was the last: "James Marshall had the uncanny ability to elicit wild delight from readers with relatively little text and simple drawings. With only two minute dots for eyes, his illustrated characters are able to express a wide range of emotion, and never ever fail to produce howls of laughter from children and adults." because that exactly describes my and Bobbin's experience reading his books.

Bobbin zeroed in right away on the bears' eyes. It's true - they are only tiny dots and lines, but there's no doubt as to what emotion they are displaying and Bobbin will point it out right away.

Bobbin: Why Mama bear is angry? Mommy: I don't think she's really angry. More annoyed, really. Bobbin: No, hers angry. Her have angry eyes. Look at her angry eyes. See?

It's so much fun to watch her notice that stuff completely on her own; for her to take in all the little details of an illustration and independantly arrive at an interpretation and conclusion about the characters' feelings and state of mind, and what it must all mean.

And now for some children's book advice: If you find yourself in the possession of, or with the opportunity to become in the possession of, a hardcover copy of either a James Marshall picture book OR a Jan & Stan Berenstain book, hold on tight. Cause they're rare finds. AND they're great stories that your kids will love. Valuable on multiple fronts ;-). And if you can't get a hardcover, go ahead and buy the paperback edition. They may not last as long but you and your kid will still derive invaluable pleasure, and for much less than the price of a hardcover (even if they weren't rare).

Blog update: While at the bookstore, in addition to purchasing The Three Little Pigs, I also purchased a hardcover called "The Adventures of Isabel: A Verse" written by Ogden Nash. I had picked it up and read it, and the poem was fun and silly and childish and perfect, and the illustrations for it matched perfectly. I didn't realize until I got home, started doing my James Marshall wikipedia search, and discovered this title amongst the long list of books that he had either authored, illustrated, or both, that this book was in fact illustrated by James Marshall as well. I found it in a completely different area of the children's book section and hadn't even looked at the illustrator name. Interesting that I seem so consistently drawn (pun intended ;-)) to his work. That tells me a lot!

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Gogeeochs and the Bear's Corridge.

Bobbin's favourite story right now is Goldilocks and the Three Bears (we got her the version retold and illustrated by James Marshall. I highly recommend that one; the dialog is pretty fun, as are the pictures).

Only in the World According to Bobbin, the girl's name is Go-Gee-awk (hard "G" sound both times) and should you pronounce it any other way, she will correct you.

It's a fairly short story but it takes a good half hour or longer for us to get through the entire book. Because I can't just read it straight through. Many questions must be asked and answered on each page. Our reading usually goes something like this (and generally takes place in the bathroom, while Bobbin is trying to do #2)

Page 1:

Mommy: "Once there was a little girl called Goldilocks"
Bobbin: No, it's Go-Gee-awk, not Goldilocks. Go-Gee-awk. Read it again.
Mommy: "Once there was a little girl called Go-Gee-awk. 'What a sweet child,' said someone new in town. 'That's what you think,' said a neighbour"
Bobbin: Where's the neighbour?
Mommy: Right there. The woman standing behind the fence. That's Goldilock's neighbour.
Bobbin: Go-Gee-awk. Not Goldilocks, Mommy.
Mommy: Go-Gee-awk.
Bobbin: Why hers a neighbour?
Mommy: She's a neighbour because she lives next door to Goldi... Go-Gee-awk.
Bobbin: Where's next door?
Mommy: Beside Goldilock's house. Right beside it.
Bobbin: But where in the book?
Mommy: Oh, they didn't draw it in the book. you can't see it in this picture.
Bobbin: Why I can't see it?
Mommy: Because the artist wants you to look at Goldilocks in this picture.
Bobbin: Why?
Mommy: Because the book is about her.
Bobbin: No it is not about her. It is about three bears.
Mommy: True. It is about the bears too. But the point is, it's not really about the neighbour so the focus is not on the neighbour. May I turn the page?
Bobbin: Yes.

Page 2

Mommy: "One morning Goldilock's mother sent her to buy muffins in the next village."
Bobbin: Why her send Go-gee-awk to buy muffins?
Mommy: Well, because they were all out of muffins?
Bobbin: Why they all out of muffins?
Mommy: Well, probably because they had eaten all the muffins yesterday and needed some more.
Bobbin: Why they needed some more?
Mommy: Well, because they were hungry and wanted muffins for breakfast.
Bobbin: Why they not have waffles instead?
Mommy: Maybe Goldilocks doesn't like waffles. Why do you think they don't have waffles instead?
Bobbin: Maybe Goldilocks mommy is all out of waffles too. Maybe her mommy forgot to go to the grocery store.
Mommy: That could be. (mental note to self: stop at the grocery store after work and get the damn pancakes that we've been out of for 3 days).
Mommy: "'You must promise not to take the shortcut through the forest," she said. 'I've heard that bears live there."
Bobbin: Why her not want Go-gee-awk to go through the forest?
Mommy: Because the forest can be dangerous.
Bobbin: Why the forest can be dangerous?
Mommy: Well, because it's dark and wild animals live in there.
Bobbin: Bears live in the forest!
Mommy: That's right. And did Goldilocks listen to her Mommy?
Bobbin: NO!
Mommy: And is that ok?
Bobbin: No! It's NOT ok!
Mommy: And why is that not ok?
Bobbin: Because Go-gee-awk might fall down and bump her head and get a BIG owie and the bears might come and they might scare her and Go-gee-awk would RUN AWAY and she would be scared and she would have a BIG owie so she would need to go to the doctor and she would be sad and she would be crying and her mommy might be worried.
Mommy: Yup, pretty much. You're a smart girl, Bobbin.

Page 3

Mommy: "Meanwhile in a clearing deeper inside the forest, in a charming house all their own, a family of brown bears was sitting down to breakfast."
Bobbin: Why they sitting down to breakfast?
Mommy: Well, they just woke up and they are hungry and want to eat breakfast. Are you hungry in the morning when you wake up?
Bobbin: Yes!
Mommy: And you want breakfast too, right?
Bobbin: Yes! Bobbin is hungry. Bobbin wants a BIG pancake!
Bobbin: Why there is a chicken on their roof?
Mommy: I'm not sure; he looks like he's up there napping in the sunshine. Maybe it's nice and warm up there. It's near the chimney too.
Bobbin: The chicken needs to be careful he doesn't fall down and bump his head and get a BIG owie. He needs to be careful up there.
Mommy: Very true.

Page 4

Mommy: "'Patooie!' cried big old Papa Bear. 'This porridge is scalding! I've burned my tongue!' 'I'm dying!' cried Baby bear. 'Now really,' said Mama Bear, who was of medium size. 'That's quite enough.'
Bobbin: No, it's not porridge. It's corridge. CORridge.
Mommy: CORridge. Hmm... I always thought it was PORridge. Hey look. What's that letter?
Bobbin: P! for Potty!
Mommy: That's right! And what sound does the letter P make?
Bobbin: you know?
Mommy: it makes a "Puh" sound. "Puh Puh Puh". Like "Potty". or "Porridge"
Bobbin:Porridge. Yeah.
Bobbin: Why Mama bear is angry?
Mommy: I don't think she's really angry. More annoyed, really.
Bobbin: No, hers angry. Her have angry eyes. Look at her angry eyes. See?
Mommy: You're right. I guess her eyes do look angry. I think she is just a bit angry that Papa Bear and Baby Bear are being overly dramatic. Making it seem worse than it really is. Overreacting. You know, like how Mommy tells you when you're panicking or you need to calm down when you get upset about little things, like when your sock won't come off or you want a different coloured napkin?
Bobbin: Why Mama bear says "That's quite enough"
Mommy: Because she wants Papa and Baby to calm down and stop panicking. She wants them to stop and take a deep breath, like I tell you to take a deep breath when you get upset. I tell you to calm down. Take a breath. Mama bear says "that's quite enough" it's the same as "calm down. Take a breath".

and so on. Although as I read through this again, this does present an opportunity for someone to tell the story completely from the neighbour's point of view. Or a general tale of what it was like living next door to the precocious Goldilocks from the day she came home from the hospital to the day she left home for college. The incident with the three bears was probably just one of many. I think I'll explore that angle more fully the next time I read this with Bobbin and she launches into her Page 1 questions.

The rest of the pages are equally inviting of questions and audience participation. I'll get her to finish the "too hot" "too cold" "Just right" and "too hard" "too soft" "just right" parts and tell me which porridge/chair/bed belongs to whom etc. She absolutely loves the book. And she picks up on the smallest details. Like when I get to the part about Goldilocks trying out Mama Bear's bed and deciding the head of the bed is "too low", Bobbin points to Baby Bear's bed and says "No! That's not to low, this bed is low. This is a low bed" and really, she's right; after all it is Baby Bear's bed. It's lower than the rest of them. Or when Goldilocks is in the parlour trying out the three chairs, in the illustration on that page there is a set of "photographs" hanging on the wall next to the fireplace of various bear "family" members and they all are grimacing. Bobbin will always point to them and ask "Why are they angry?" and we'll talk about how maybe the photographer said something to them that made them grumpy, or that maybe they didn't feel like getting their picture taken that day, or maybe they stepped in something yucky while they were getting their picture taken, etc.

The kid's inquisitive. And imaginative.

James Marshall has versions of the Three Pigs and Red Riding Hood too. I think I'll pick those up next time I'm at the bookstore. he has a way of updating the dialog so the story is more amusing than frightening, while still keeping to the original storyline and his pictures are super fun.

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Inner tubing

Bobbin had an appointment with her ENT (Ear, Nose, and Throat ;-)) doctor today. It's been 10 days since she first saw the ENT medical assistant who put her on ear drops twice daily in an effort to clear out her blocked ear tubes via non-surgical means. It's been 20 days since she had her last ear infection, and about 45 days since she had the one prior to that.

And it's not just an increase in ear infections that has prompted this visit. For the last two weeks especially, Bobbin's been having trouble hearing normal pitch and volume, constantly asking us to talk or sing louder, or turn up the TV or the music. At the same time, she seems ultrasensitive to high and low frequencies - covering her ears and yelling "Turn it down! It's too loud!" and then immediately asking us to turn it up again so she can hear, when the low or high frequency sound is finished. She's also mispronouncing words on occasion - words that she's capable of saying but is mispronouncing or garbling because she's not hearing them clearly when I say them. All of this, according to her ENT doctor after examining her ears this morning, is a result of a combination of her tubes being completely blocked with ear wax, and some fluid remaining trapped within her inner ear. The drops did not help with the tube blockage at all, and the fluid will remain trapped for as long as the tubes are blocked. And she'll continue to be prone to ear infections since the tubes can't do their job of draining the inner ear of fluids.

So today's prognosis: Bobbin needs a new set of ear tubes, and the doctor also strongly recommended checking her adenoids while she's under anesthesia and if they are enlarged, reducing them as well now that she's older. I guess for the first 6 months of infancy the adenoids, like all of that lymph tissue, actually strengthens the immune system. But after that they, like tonsils, can on occasion be a contributing factor to frequent infections such as Bobbin's experienced, because they can also do a lovely job of trapping bacteria. And the adenoids in particular are located in a sweet little spot that provides great and easy access to the eustacian tubes for that bacteria, resulting in ear infections. Removing or reducing the adenoids (or tonsils) apparently doesn't really have a negative impact on older infants or children because they have so much other lymph tissue throughout their bodies to compensate and their immune systems are at this point well developed such that a little less lymph will not really get noticed.

So I sit here blogging, while awaiting a call back from their surgery scheduling line to determine when we'll take her in for this procedure.

It'll be much like last time: No solid foods after midnight; only clear liquids the day of surgery and nothing at all 4 hours prior. Hopefully we'll get an early morning appointment so she won't be too hungry. We'll take her in to the hospital; The surgeon, who will be the same doctor she saw today and who performed the procedure on her last time, will come out with his nurse to get her from the waiting room. She'll cry and scream for Mommy as they carry her away from me. I'll wave cheerfully and tell her we'll see her in just a few minutes! They'll put her under general anesthesia. Within 5 minutes she'll have new tubes in her ears. Then they'll check her adenoids and if they are enlarged, within 10 minutes will have removed all but the last little bit that the doctor leaves on purpose to ensure there's no gap between her pallet and back of the throat when she talks or breathes. By evening she should be feeling pretty good and the memory and trauma of being taken from my arms in the waiting room will be starting to fade. Only to be refreshed Monday morning when I have to drop her off at school. I expect school drop offs to be pretty dramatic the week following the surgery as she remembers our parting in the waiting room at the hospital. But it'll be worth it to ensure another year free of ear infections for her, and to ensure that her hearing remains intact. And by that time she is likely to have outgrown the need for the tubes at all. We'll see.

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No! And you can't make me!

I went and got my hair cut and coloured (I'm not ready to be grey just yet) on Monday. The colourist pulled up my file on her computer to see what to mix for me, and asked "Did you come here for your last colour and cut? It says here we last did your hair in August. Can that be right?"

Was it really that recent? It's felt more like decades. I grimaced and assured her that I had been seeing no one else. This was long overdue.

I emerged from the salon feeling like a new woman. I had an attractive hair cut, unfettered by my usual ponytail; my hair was clean and had body and bounce; and my energy wasn't being sapped by the multitudes of dreary grey strands that had started to proliferate throughout my scalp. I looked good. Relative to how I had looked when I entered two hours prior. But I'll take relative comparisons.

I enjoyed this feeling of freedom until precisely 2:02pm, which was the time that Tim and I left to go pick up Bobbin from daycare to take her to the season opener at Safeco Field. You see, I knew exactly what was going to happen the minute I appeared within her range of vision. She would glance up and notice me, start to smile, and then her expression would turn dour and she would launch herself into a tyrade of "Mommy! Put a pony in your hair! Put a pony in! Mommy need a pony! Pony! Pony Pony!" and then she'd start bawling and then she'd start pleading "Peas mommy, peas put a pony in now" and then she'd get sulky and angry at me. And then she'd reluctantly allow herself to exit the building to be seen in public with me - her horrid, unkempt, ponytail-less mother. Disgraceful. How could I do this to her?

Yeah. So it went down pretty much as I had anticipated, ending with a threat to not go to the baseball game if she didn't stop screaming at me and leave my hair alone.

As you can see, it's happened before. It doesn't happen often, but on the rare occasion when I've gotten my hair cut, or the less rare occasion (not much less, mind you) when I've just simply washed it and wanted to wear it down, or when I've had to go into her bedroom at night to comfort her after she's woken from a bad dream, she's seen me without a ponytail. And every time this has been her reaction. Over the course of two years, it's happened at least a few dozen times.

I try and keep it in perspective. I remember when my Dad shaved his moustache for the first time since my sister had been born. She went ballistic - sobbing and crying and carrying on like he had died and been replaced by this moustache-less imposter. It's the age; a moustached father was all she had ever known. Of course it was traumatic. And so I keep this in mind whenever Bobbin launches into one of her ponytail rants. It's not personal. It's not like she thinks I'm hideous without the pony tail. It's all she's really ever known.

However it's gotten so bad, that I keep a scrunchie in my nightstand drawer so that on the chance that she'll need me to go into her room during the night, I can put my hair back in a ponytail to avoid the tears and tyrades and tantrums; and so that when I wake up in the morning to go greet her, I can start off the day without a fight and struggle that escalates into some sort of loss of privilege for her and a gloomy dark cloud over my head until well after I've taken her to daycare. This is the power she has over me and my hair.

I've tried to reason with her; get her to see my perspective. "Bobbin, you know how mommy asks you if she can put a pony in your hair, and you say no you don't want one? Yeah? I don't make you wear one if you don't want one, do I? No. So you need to respect mommy when mommy says she doesn't want to wear one".

But then she reasons with me "Mommy, you need to put a pony in to keep the hair out of your eyes. Mommy, you need to. Listen to Bobbin's words, mommy. Your hair is in your eyes. You need to put a pony in".

I've tried to point out the inequity. "Bobbin, you're not wearing a pony. Why are you trying to make mommy wear a pony?".

She will ignore the apparent injustice and just continue to push her agenda.

I try to appeal to her sense of girliness. "Bobbin, don't you think Mommy's hair looks pretty? I got a new haircut! I'm so excited. I really like my new haircut. I want to wear my hair like this without a pony because it makes me happy".

She will respond with a "Mommy, your hair is pretty. And it looks pretty in a pony too. Here, Bobbin pretend to cut your hair and put sparkles in it and ribbons with a pony. You like that mommy? Yeah? Oh, what a nice pony".

She's smart. manipulative. And her tantrums are not pleasant.

But dammit it's my hair, and in the end, I get to decide how I want to wear it, tantrum or no tantrum. I will not allow my hairstyles to be ruled by my 2-year-old. My Dad didn't grow his moustache back for my sister. She learned to live with it. Bobbin's just going to have to deal. and it will be unpleasant for at least a week, but it will be worth it. Because by the end of it, my hair will have won its freedom, and I will have maintained my authority. I will not cave.

Unless it is 2am and she's just woken from a nightmare and I want to calm her back down quickly so I can go back to some much needed sleep so I can build strength and stamina for the morning when the battle over my hairstyle will begin anew. But that's it, dammit.

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In like a lamb and out like a lion

Can you believe we woke up to 3 inches of snow on Sunday March 30th? After 2 days of absolutely wacky weather - snow, sun, hail, sun, rain, rain+sun, snow, more snow, light snow, spontaneous meltoff, and then finally some really drenching april showers. All in 2 days. But we still managed to have Miss E and her folks over Sunday morning for some toboganning with Bobbin before it all disappeared for good. By 5pm you'd never have known it had even snowed.

Thanks to Ms. D for the great photos of the girls here! They had SOOOO much fun; indoors and out. It was awesome.

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The Lyrical Stylings of Bobbin

Baa baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full.

One for the master,
And one for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the drain.

I can only imagine the images this song conjures up for her as she sings it.

Other creative wordsmithing these days:

"Bizonya" = lasagna

"Oh Man!" = what she says when she's frustrated. She's never seen "The Simpsons", but I swear she has the same "Bart" tone in her voice.

"Kewel" = "cool", what she says when she likes something, or thinks it's fun.

Oh man, does our daughter sound cool or what, when she's talkin'? So, like, I have no idea where she gets this stuff from. Dude. So, yeah.

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Toddler Anatomy - Lesson 2

I am sitting on the floor of the bathroom at home, as I usually do, while Bobbin does her business on her little potty. She still likes company.

She finishes and stands up and then looks down toward her front and then looks up, shoulders shrugged and hands spread wide in a questioning stance, and asks "Mommy? Where's Bobbin's peanut?"

I corrected her slight mispronunciation and reiterated the differences between boys and girls.

I'll definitely be glad when they get more girls in her preschool class. I know that won't stop the questions but I'm thinking at least I'll be able to focus a bit more on female anatomy.

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Sinking in

We're mid-way through the "terrible twos" and there are some positives: For the last 6 months or so, she uses her words consistently instead of her hands when she's angry with Mommy and Daddy. That's a good thing. Over the course of the last couple of months she's really reduced her use of the "whiney voice". That's a nice relief. Yeah. She's also really good about her please's and thank you's. Doesn't need to be reminded nearly as much. And she doesn't bang her fork on the table nearly as much. Thank you.

For all these changes it just took a lot of consistency on our part, and a lot of repetition. Monotonous repetition. And did I mention consistency? And patience. And repetition. Consistent repetition and patience. You get the point. Say it. Mean it. Do it. And follow through on consequences. And don't lose your own cool throughout the repetitive monotonous consistent repetition. HAH! Yeah, good advice, but not always what stays foremost in mind when you've got a 2 1/2 year old shrieking "No! I don't WANT to!" at you at the top of her lungs over and over again while lying on her back on the floor kicking her feet against the wall. Of COURSE you're going to yell back on occasion. And boy don't you feel totally dumb and sucked in when you do. Which just makes you more annoyed. Timeouts really are for parents as much as they are for children.

Eventually though, it has all paid off. She gets that whining is not the way you get what you want. And hitting is not ok (although Tim and I were the only targets she ever inflicted this upon; according to all the books it is because she trusts and loves us the most. Ok. Don't I feel special now! :-). And she gets that she needs to take care of our stuff and not ruin them by banging on them with sharp forks. And being polite is.. well... the polite thing to do. She still whines. And she still needs reminders on manners. But it's minor stuff now and not center stage the way it was in the beginning.

Providing explanations have also helped. Cause it's not like we have a bazillion rules. We only have a relatively small number of real rules. All of which have to do with being safe, being healthy, being polite, being honest, being respectful (of people and property), being a good person, and not hurting anyone else (with words or actions). So all our rules have perfectly understandable reasons, and perfectly understandable consequences.

Yes you do have to brush your teeth before bed; no it cannot wait until tomorrow. If you don't clean your teeth you will get owies in your mouth and they'll hurt and you won't be able to eat your favourite foods like apples and popcorn because your mouth will be sore.

No, not two more minutes. It's bed time now. You need to go to bed because you need to get good sleep so that you stay healthy and strong and can play with your friends at school. And because mommy and daddy need to get good sleep so we can stay healthy and strong and play with you too. I know you say you're not tired. But your body is tired. It needs sleep. So lie quietly and let your body sleep. You can stay awake but your body needs to rest.

Yes you do have to wash your hands after potty. No it doesn't matter that your hands look clean. Germs are too small to see and if you don't wash your hands you will spread your germs and make yourself sick and other people sick.

Yes you do have to say thank you when someone shares with you. If you don't say thank you, it makes them think you don't care or appreciate it, and eventually they will not want to share with you or play with you, and that will make you sad.

Hitting is not ok. Hitting hurts people. It makes them sad. It's not ok to hurt someone.

Yes you do have to hold my hand in the parking lot. If you don't, you could get hit by a car and that would give you such a big owie you'd have to go to the hospital and you would be sad because you would be hurt for a long long long time and mommy and daddy would be sad and worried. You have to stay safe. If you cannot follow the rules for staying safe, then we will not be able to go out and do fun things together as a family.

Jumping on the couch is not ok because it is not safe - you could fall and get hurt, AND it will break the couch and then we won't have a nice couch to sit on anymore. No, we won't be able to buy a new couch because couches cost a lot of money and Mommy and Daddy worked hard to save up our money for this couch and we like it.

etc.

However we have also entered into a new level of "terrible". She's much more persistent than she was 18 months ago. And she's stronger. And louder. And her emotions are much more complex and far-ranging. And the logic of our rules is less interesting than getting her own way for the sake of getting her own way. However we have discovered that with her new capabilities comes new vulnerability. And one of these is that when the stakes are high enough, loss of privilege is actually painful. And meaningful. And real. And not something that she wants repeated.

The first real example of this we have is last weekend, at Starbucks. The "Easter Bunny" was going to be at our local PCC on Saturday morning, giving out treats, and hosting an egg hunt. Tim and I had a plan for the three of us to head out Saturday morning to Starbucks per our usual weekend routine, and then go next door to PCC to see the bunny and hunt for eggs, and then go to soccer. We told Bobbin our plan and she was terribly excited at the prospect of meeting THE Easter Bunny. In Person.

So Saturday morning rolled around and we headed out to Starbucks. And before we went into the shop we went over the expectations and rules: Listen to Mommy and Daddy. No screaming. No running away. Good behaviour or we will not see the Easter Bunny. She repeated the rules and nodded her head in understanding. We went in.

Up until the last 5 minutes, she was well behaved. Animated, happy, but also following all the rules. As we got up to go, Bobbin insisted on putting on her own coat. She's been working on this for a while. She can do it, but it takes some time, and she can rarely do it without getting frustrated. So we gave her her coat and encouraged her to put it on, and told her if she was getting upset she could ask for help. She snatched the coat and started putting it on.

She hit a few snags and we were able to talk her through them. But all of a sudden she just exploded; unable to get her other arm into the sleeve and not accepting of our offers for help she ripped off her coat and flung it 6 feet away onto the floor and started screeching and then threw her body on the floor. We tried to calm her down but she just started screaming at us. We gave her one warning to calm down and behave but she shouted no and kept carrying on.

So we had no choice. We picked her up. Carried her outside. Put her down. Put on her coat. And explained to her that we understood she was angry but that her behaviour was not acceptable and there would be no Easter Bunny.

I was not expecting quite the sudden reaction to that that we got. We've enforced consequences before; loss of privileges - turned off the TV; no movies. Early bedtime. No cupcake or cookie after dinner. No stickers for a day. But the stakes had never been this high. And to be honest I was actually surprised that she had ascribed so much value to the Easter Bunny visit; I had no idea.

So when we said "There will be no Easter Bunny. We're going home. Lets get in the car" She stopped in her tracks and then started crying. Sobbing. Bawling. Tugging on our arms. And then after we continued to hold firm, came the gasping sobs and pleading. And then the [gasp], [pant], [gulp], [half-sob] "I.. I... I... am behaving now. Ma..ma.. mommy [gasp] [ sob] Peas! Peas go see bunny now. Bobbin is behaving". And then the one that totally tugged at my heartstrings: "Peas mommy, peas, daddy, peas. Bobbin is a good girl. I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl. Peas bobbin see the easter bunny. Bobbin is a good girl", tear streaks fresh on her cheeks, eyes glistening, mouth quivering as she strives to maintain control.

That one got to me because she IS a good girl. She is. Her behaviour may not always be good all the time; who's is? but she is good. She is great. She is an incredibly awesome, sweet and loving, good person. And we have NEVER ever used the words "not a good girl" or "bad girl" in relation to her as a person; only in relation to her behaviour. We've been careful and explicit and intentional about that. It was all I could do not to break down into tears myself as I crouched down and explained "You are a good girl Bobbin, but your behaviour is not good. It is ok to feel angry. It is ok to feel frustrated. It is ok to be angry at mommy and daddy. But when you are angry, you need to use your words. You can't throw things. Or scream. Or kick, or throw your body on the floor. You need to use angry words. You need to say "I am ANGRY". Or you need to give yourself a timeout. Sit down or walk away and take a breath. But you can't throw and scream and kick and fall on the floor. That is not good behaviour".

I think she got the distinction. But even as we settled into the car she started crying again after we pulled away from the parking lot. "Bobbin is behaving now. Bobbin want to see the bunny. PEAS! Bobbin don't want to go home. Bobbin want to see the bunny. PEAS! Peas turn around and go see the bunny. Peas don't go home". Her voice had a desperate pitch that made me even sadder.

When we got home she was still sobbing. We went into the house and spent a lot of time talking about how she needs to think about what happens when she doesn't behave BEFORE she doesn't behave. That misbehaving and then saying I'm sorry will not reverse a consequence. She needs to learn how to not do the thing that got her in trouble in the first place. I didn't use those exact words. And the conversation was a 20 minute one and... repetitive :-) but I think she got it.

A couple of hours later, as we were absorbed in some art project or another, Bobbin looked up me and said, happily, "Mommy, Bobbin is behaving. Maybe later, You and Daddy and Bobbin can go to Apple Store and go see the Easter Bunny!". She said it with such enthusiasm and faith that it was going to happen, that it pained me to tell her that "Yes sweetheart, you are behaving very well, and I'm so proud of you. But the easter bunny isn't at the apple store anymore. He was only there this morning and now he's gone home. We'll have to wait until next year to see him again". "Maybe tomorrow?" was her optimistic answer. "No, honey. Not tomorrow. We missed him this year. That's what happens when we can't behave and listen to mommy and daddy. Next year we will try again". She looked sad, but she moved on. Thank goodness.

Since then, there's been a marked decline in meltdowns of this sort. Thank goodness because if we had put her through all that angst and, truth be told, myself through all that sadness and pain, I wanted it to have stuck and meant something. However we had a minor one today at PCC, which is where I took Bobbin to dinner this evening while Tim worked late.

We were getting ready to leave and she refused to wear her coat properly; insisting on wearing it like a "cape" with the hood on her head and the rest of it flowing out behind her. She was in short sleeves and it was 40F and raining outside, so in my mind this was not an acceptable option. I insisted she wear her coat. I offered to let her put it on herself, and I offered to put it on for her. In the end she threw her coat and herself on the floor and as I carried her out the door I said "That is not good behaviour. We are going home, and we are getting into our jammies, having our bottle and going straight to bed. No TV or movies". She protested vehemently but she let me put her coat on, and when we got home didn't even ask to watch TV, and didn't fight me on the jammies. as I was getting her out of the car she said "See, I'm listening to mommy" and I smiled and said thank you. Of course I didn't tell her that it was 7:00pm and time we would have started getting ready for bed anyway. But she went into the house, went potty, brushed her teeth, got her jammies on all without a fuss. And we didn't watch TV at all, keeping true to my promise, and I did remind her why that was so. We did, however, read 3 stories as she drank her bottle. We will never withhold books or reading as punishment. Books should always be available. And as I read to her while she cuddled in my lap, I praised her on her good behaviour and listening since we had been home. :-)

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Slow and subtle changes

I've been reflecting a lot lately on how my life is subtly and slowly changing as Bobbin continues to grow and learn. There's nothing significant, but every now and then sometime will pop up and make me stop and think "wow... this is getting a little bit easier. 3/6/9/12/24 months ago this was not even a remote possibility". And I figure I better take some time to acknowledge them now, because sometime quite soon - about the time she starts real school, I suspect - it will stop getting easier and will get much harder again. And from then on it will continue to get harder until she's made it through her mid-20's at the very least ;-)

There's the material kinda stuff. like... we don't have to spend money on diapers and wipes. We still buy pullups but she only wears one per day (at bedtime). It's amazing how long a package of 32 pullups lasts when you're only wearing one per day. Like, a whole month! :-). She's not growing quite as rapidly which means we're not having to replace her wardrobe every 3 months because nothing fits. Stuff lasts longer before having to be replaced. Except for her shoes. She goes through shoes like I've never seen, just due to the sheer volume of activity that takes place while she's wearing them :-)

There's physical space kinda stuff. Like - getting rid of the changing table and changing pad. And not having as many bottles around. And freeing up space in the cupboard that was formerly occupied by sippy cups now that Bobbin insists at all meals on drinking from a regular cup. And not having to carry around an entire day's worth of diapers and at least one complete change of clothes and several baggies of snacks in my purse or backpack for outings on the weekend. Or having to lug a stroller around in the back of the car. We have a much much much lighter load these days. I don't even bring her portable potty seat anymore because she's content to sit on the big-people toilet when out in public.

There's freedom kinda stuff. Like - I can actually clean the entire kitchen properly and thoroughly and unload and load the dishwasher while Bobbin happily entertains herself in the other room; she'll start her own activities and then move on to her next activity completely on her own - colouring, and then playing with her doll house, and then building a tower of blocks, and then playing her piano, and then taking her baby for a walk in the stroller and then painting a picture on her easel. She'll happily sing and talk to herself as she plays her games or pursues her arts unsupervised and I'll happily putter in the kitchen reveling in the fact that my socks are no longer constantly sticking to the floor and that I can actually see the bottom of my sink for lack of piles of dishes (and it's actually clean too). Or I can putter around in the deck while Bobbin happily romps in the grass and plays on her climber and slide. I don't always have to be right there and interacting constantly 100% of the time.

There's self-sufficient kinda stuff. Like - she can get up and down on our dining room chairs by herself now that she's taller; she'll push her learning tower into position and climb into it by herself; she's even started going to the potty by herself (ie, not requiring my actual accompaniment). She can reach the light switches now and will turn lights on and off on her own too.

There's conversational kinda stuff. Like - she'll tell me that she had a great day at school today because Zachary is back from vacation and she got to play with him all day and Miss Kiera wasn't sick today and was back at school and that made her really happy. we have lengthly meaningful conversations about what happened, and how we're feeling and what we're doing, what we've done, and what we're going to do, what we like and don't like and why and what makes us feel certain ways. We talk about things we remember, and things that haven't happened yet. And it's completely two-way.

There's diagnostic stuff. Like - she can tell me what hurts and where it hurts and how it hurts, in great detail so that there's less guesswork involved in figuring out what's wrong.

There's safety stuff. Like - I don't feel the need to hover over her when she goes up and down the living room steps, or goes to the bathroom to climb up on her stepstool to wash her hands, nor the need to be there to physically supervise door and drawer opening and closing to avoid pinched fingers. She's mastered this stuff now.

There's aesthetic stuff - we've been able to completely remove the bumpers from our tables and cabinets because she doesn't bump into this stuff anymore.

There's efficiency stuff. Like I don't have to spend as much time cutting her food into as tiny pieces for risk of choking because she's physically bigger and much more coordinated and capable of eat normal sized bites of food (and ever since her pepperoni incident at D&B's several months ago, has exercised much better judgement in terms of how big "bite size" is :-)). There's slightly less laundry as Bobbin has fewer and fewer potty accidents at school. going to the store or a restaurant doesn't require a lot of prep work packing snacks, refilling diapers and travel wipe containers. Now we decide we want to go somewhere and we just go. Of course, I have gotten more efficient at the stuff I do still have to do. I have a stash of snack-sized bags of cheese crackers and a 12-pack of bottled water in the trunk at all times, along with a ziploc baggie containing a pair of clean underwear and clean pants (for her... duh!).

There's creative stuff. Like she LOVES arts and crafts and actual games, and make believe, and is quite elaborate in all of her pretend play which makes it so much more fun for me. Not that it hasn't always been fun, but I actually feel even more intellectually and creatively stimulated than the really tiny baby days when it was fairly one-sided. She's so much more coordinated and capable of following complicated instructions so stuff like sports, tricycle riding, and even just going for nice long walks on the burke-gilman are much more fun.

None of it is big stuff; none of it happened overnight. But my goodness how far we've all come!

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Anatomy 101 - the toddler version

Today we had a little introduction into the differences between male and female anatomy. Wasn't exactly expecting it, but I actually was prepared to deal with it.

I had just arrived at school to pick Bobbin up and take her home. Before we left, she decided she needed to go potty. So we headed into the toddler bathroom so she could do her business.

She sat down on the potty and waited. And waited. And waited. Just as I was about to suggest we try again when we got home, she stood up. I thought she was going to pull her pants up and suggest she try later herself, but instead she turned around so she was facing the potty, with both hands at her private area.

Ummm.

So I asked "Hey honey, whatcha doin'?".

"Bobbin have to go potty so Bobbin want to do her pee pee just like the big kids", was her response.

Bobbin is only one of two girls in her class of 10 students and she's the youngest. The kids tend to go potty in groups, and so about 80% of the time she's doin' her business next to a little boy. And so this is perfectly logical.

"Well, honey, that's true; big boys do stand up to do their pee pee. But big girls still have to sit down to pee pee. Remember how mommy does her pee pee? Mommy sits down, and mommy's a big girl" was my response.

"But why, Mom? Why? Bobbin sees big kids do their pee pee like this. Why boys do pee pee like this? Why do girls have to sit to pee pee?" was her question. She's really good at questions.

As I said, I was surprised but not completely unprepared. I had decided some time ago - like well before she could talk - that when the subject comes up, I'll treat it as an anatomy lesson. Explain the parts, use the real words, and keep it simple.

"Well, boys have an extra part in front called a p&n!s where their pee pee comes from (I used the real word but I'm trying to avoid this site showing up in the x-rated searches :-)) and when they get bigger they have to stand up to do pee pee and hold their p&n!s so that the pee pee goes into the toilet and doesn't make a mess. But girls don't have a p&n!s. Girls have a *agina, and that's where their pee pee comes from. And girls have to sit to do pee pee so that the pee pee goes into the toilet and doesn't make a mess"

She pondered this. And then sat back down. It made perfect sense. Good. But it wasn't quite over.

"Mommy? Why? Why boys have a p&n!s and why girls have a baj-eye-mina? Do you have a baj-eye-mina?" (her actual pronunciation ;-)) she asked.

I decided to see if I could get away with just answering the last question. "Yes I do", I replied.

"Where?" she asked.

I pointed.

She peed.

Then we were done and she moved on to other subjects as she got herself organized and went to wash her hands.

Not to shabby, mom. I thought to myself. Neither of us should need any therapy later. Job well done.

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Bobbin Gets a Haircut

Bobbin Gets a Haircut (click to view video)

Enjoy!

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You've all heard of "Riverdance"

But few have probably been introduced to "Bobbindance". The latest craze sweeping the nation. Or at least our little household.

The background music is our "Best of Cirque du Soleil" CD that we bought as a souvenir the last time they were in town. Bobbin loves the CD, in particular the first song, which has strong drum beats and a weird alpine horn sounding instrument, and a Russian opera singer. Your typical "cirque" fare. But as soon as you put that song in the CD, she'll grab an animal and start doing her "cirque" dance. Which really isn't too far off from what the professional "cirque" stars are doing on stage to this music. A weird combination of ballet, gymnastics, and stretchy movements in rhythm with the music. And I love it! That's our girl! :-)

This one seems to take a little bit of time to load so after clicking, if you don't see the image play smoothly, pause it and drag the slider back to the beginning, wait a few seconds for the blue indicator bar to move forward a bit more, and then try playing again.

click to view video

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She likes to ride her tricycle, she likes to ride her trike

Video of Bobbin riding her tricycle on the deck for the first time by herself:

Click to view video #1

click to view video #2

I dunno who was more excited; her or me :-)

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New Biker Gang Makes Debut in Pacific Northwest

They're lean, they're mean, and they're potty trained. They're the Princess Pedal Pushers and you better not get in their way!

Bobbin and Miss E had a princess-tastic playdate today, playing outside for much of it. Here are the rest of the photos from today and here are some miscellaneous photos of Bobbin (and more of Miss E too!) from earlier this month for those wishing to catch up, since I've been rather delinquent in blogging about them this month.

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Bunnies and Rainbows

Bobbin's bedtime routine consists of a bottle of milk - she only gets one and we're gonna make her give this one up real soon now; there's always a reason not to though. First it was getting through potty training, then it was getting through Daddy's trip, then it was getting through Mommy's trip, then it was getting through the preschool transition. I know we're just going to have to bite the bullet and do it preferably before she turns 3 but truth be told, I like the routine as much as she does and for the exact same reasons: I'm not ready for her to grow up and stop cuddling with me in the big chair like that yet.

But anyway - her routine is a bottle of milk cuddling with us in the big chair, while watching "The Baby Channel" (yes, that's what it's called; channel 293 on our cable subscription. We pay for it ;-)). At 8pm "The Baby Channel" switches from "daytime" programming to "nighttime" programming and the transitional show that comes on every night is "The Shushy-bye Babies". It's these giant "toys" as Bobbin refers to them (as she refers to anything in a large oversized felt or furry costume) that live in Shushy-bye land and are responsible for making and delivering dreams to all the girls and boys in the whole world.

Tonight she was sitting rapt in my lap, even letting her bottle lapse at 3/4 full, watching the Shushy-byes honour Conductor McCloud who is the guy in cloud-covered overalls who drives the train that delivers the dream boxes to all the bedrooms of the girls and boys in the world. I asked her "Do you want the Shushy-byes to make you a dream too?" and she nodded yes without blinking or taking her eyes off the screen. I then asked "What kind of dream do you want them to make you?" and she responded, without hesitating (and again without taking her eyes off the screen) "Bobbin wants dem to make me a deem about bunnies and wainbows".

Sounds good to me; I think I'll order up one of those myself! I was actually quite flattered, because these are the things that I used to tell her when she was about 18 months old when she was going through a bout of bad dreams (at least that's what we thought they were at the time; she was talkative but not nearly as sophisticated in her ability to articulate what was bothering her so we had to guess) that were waking her up at night. I'd rock her in the glider chair in her room and I'd tell her to close her eyes and dream about things that made her happy like bunnies and rainbows. Guess it stuck :-)

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The preschool years begin in earnest

Bobbin started preschool in earnest this past Monday. we've been dropping her off in the preschool classroom at 8:30 every morning, and she's taken to it like a fish to water.

The transition was actually supposed to have started while I was in Barcelona. But the school really did a poor job of prepping us and her, and didn't provide us any pertinent information for us to actually formulate a transition plan for her, so it didn't happen. The director and I had words about this, and I think I got my point across.

Essentially their idea of a "transition plan" is to send a form letter home to the parent the day after the desired transition start date. So we're already running at a deficit. The form letter is a one-page, long-winded "hey, your kid is going to transition to early preschool starting yesterday; that's all we're gonna tell you here; ask us if you have any questions". It contained no actual useful content.

Such as:

1) What time of day does the early preschool class start (ie when is there a teacher in the class?)

2) Who is / are the teacher / teachers?

3) Which physical classroom is the early preschool classroom?

4) How many kids total are in the early preschool class?

5) What is the age range of the early preschool class?

6) What is the teacher-to-child ratio in the early preschool class?

7) What are the teachers' respective backgrounds - # years at this daycare; past childcare experiences; education?

8)Are the kids in early preschool ever combined with other age groups during the day? If so, when? What is the rationale for the combination? what age groups are combined? What is the teacher-to-child ratio in the combined class? In which physical space are they combined?

9) What is the potty break policy and how do teachers handle potty breaks? Are they a combination of scheduled breaks plus as a child needs one? What signs do the teachers look for beyond waiting for a child to say he/she needs to go potty?

10) Does the lunch and nap routine and schedule differ in early preschool from her current routine? If so how?

11) How is a new child introduced to the other members of the class who have been there a while? How does the teacher help the child to learn the his/her new classmates' names?

Pretty basic questions, yeah? Write them down. You'll need them. Because chances are your daycare won't proactively answer them either.

Now if I was the director, I'm thinking the form letter and transition package that I would send out would contain this info and more. A map of the facility with an X in the preschool classroom. A schedule for when the class begins / has a teacher present and where to drop the child off if it is before the class start time / before teacher is present. A short 1-paragraph bio and picture of each of the teachers in the class. A sample lesson plan / schedule for the day or link to the web site where one can be viewed (they have sample lesson plans online but the rest of the info is not available online. I looked). It would state the teacher-to-child ratio of the new class. It would explicitly list out differences in routine that the child would have to get used to in the new class. But that's just me.

So on Friday, once I managed to get answers to all my questions I was able actually formulate a successful transition plan. It went like this.

Bobbin still has a strong attachment to her original Toddler 1 teacher, Miss Anita, whom she started with when she was just under a year old when she transitioned from the infant room to the toddler 1. It's only natural. Miss Anita is an awesome teacher, and Bobbin loves her dearly. All the kids do. Miss Anita was her teacher for a very long time, relatively. And was her primary care giver during the day every day for almost a year. Even when Bobbin transitioned to Toddler 2 class, she still got dropped off at Miss Anita's class in the morning because Toddler 2 didn't start until 8:30. And because Bobbin never did really hit it off with Miss Marina, who is the only Toddler 2 teacher there from 8:30 - 9:30. In fact, the only person she'll leave Miss Anita's class for during the day other than myself and Tim, is Miss Brooks, who is the Toddler 2 teacher who arrives at 9:30. So that's been her routine for the last year. Drop off in Miss Anita's class before 8:30, and at 9:30 go with Miss Brooks into Toddler 2.

So knowing that, it becomes obvious right away to anyone even remotely familiar with Bobbin that getting Bobbin to willingly leave Miss Anita's class on her own with someone other than Miss Brooks is just not going to happen. So having Miss Kiera come into Miss Anita's class once a day to ask Bobbin if she wants to go to early preschool is always going to ellicit the same answer from Bobbin. A firm "no. I don't wanna go".

A much more likely path to successful transitioning is to not drop her off in Miss Anita's class in the first place. Then she's not being asked to leave a person and place with whom she is comfortable.

Duh.

But in order to do that, I need to know what time Preschool class starts. And which space is the Preschool classroom. And who the Preschool teacher is.

So these were the questions I asked on Friday. However the answer was not as straightforward as it should be. The first answer I got was that "Generally speaking", Preschool starts between 8:30 and 9 depending on when kids arrive and whether the infant teacher arrives on time to take over her class from Miss Kiera. And again, "generally speaking", Miss Kiera is the morning teacher and Miss Isabella is the afternoon teacher unless they are sick or on vacation or unless the infant teacher is late and Miss Kiera needs to stay with the babies until someone else can take over.

Yeah. So that didn't fly with me. How someone, supposedly educated and experienced in early childhood development, doesn't understand the necessity of a dependable, predictable schedule and a consistent primary care provider is beyond me. Those are the toddler basics. They are the tenants of caring for a toddler. Be structured. Be predictable. Be dependable. Be consistent. Be routine. Be those things and your munchkin will be content. Be those things AND be nurturing and affectionate and your toddler will be happy. Throw in some silliness and creativity on top of everything else and she'll be in toddler heaven.

So after a few words with the director about the ambiguity of this "plan" I finally got a grudging answer that Miss Kiera is the preschool morning teacher, and the preschool class will start at 8:30am every morning and Bobbin can be dropped off in the preschool classroom at this time.

Miss Kiera is somewhat of a known entity to Bobbin; she was in the infant room part time when Bobbin was a baby and Bobbin enjoyed interacting with her. Miss Kiera is also much more affectionate and playful and silly with the kids than Miss Marina, the toddler 2 teacher to whom Bobbin never formed any kind of attachment, so Bobbin automatically feels more comfortable with her. Almost all the kids do. Miss Kiera gets down on their level to interact with them. And the kids trust and love her.

So Friday afternoon, after gathering all of this info from the director, I went over to Toddler 2 to pick Bobbin up, and took her over to the preschool classroom. We walked around it together and explored every shelf and cubby and piece of art hanging on the wall and book in the book bin so she felt comfortable and knew where everything was. We found a box of noisemakers that Bobbin loved and we banged on them. We sat down on the carpet and read books. I introduced her to the teacher. I took her out to the preschool play area when the rest of the class went outside.

And the rest of Friday afternoon and all throughout the weekend up to and including the Monday morning drive to school, I talked with Bobbin about early preschool, and what time it started, and how we were going to go straight to that class from now on because Miss Anita's class was full of new babies transitioning up, and how Miss Kiera and Miss Isabella were her teachers and how Miss Kiera used to play with her when she was a baby. I talked about how much fun I had with the noisemakers. I asked her what her favourite thing in the classroom was (the noisemakers). I talked about how much bigger the preschool playground was and how many more fun things there were to do in it like balance on the edge of the sandbox (she LOVES balancing on stuff). And we talked and talked and talked about it every chance we got. Because that's how Bobbin gets used to something new. She needs time to talk about it, and think about it, and ask questions about it, and resist it, and then come back around to accept it. It's just how she works. and so Monday morning in the car when she started to express a little apprehension at starting the day in preschool I reminded her of the noisemakers and asked her to teach me how they worked when we got to school. That got her looking forward to the class.

When we arrived we found the noisemakers and started playing. And as other kids arrived I asked Miss Kiera what the child's name was and then I'd tell Bobbin the name, and introduce her to the other child, and then we'd play a little alphabet name game so Bobbin could remember everyone's names. She feels more comfortable knowing who everyone is and being able to call them by name. The way I'd get her to remember the names is by telling her which letter the child's name begins with and asking her to jump on that letter on the alphabet carpet on the floor. She'd jump on the letter and shout out the kid's name. Of course the other kid would think that's cool, cause it'd be all about him (I'm not being sexist; Bobbin is one of two girls in the 9-child class), so he'd come over and imitate Bobbin. "Ethan starts with E, Bobbin. Where's the E for Ethan?" I would ask. "E FOR ETHAN!" Bobbin would shout, jumping on the E. Then Ethan, hearing his name, would come over and shout "E FOR ETHAN" too.

And that's been our morning for four days in a row now. Four days in a row dropping her off in preschool. And four days in a row leaving for work without nary a tear being shed by her or me. She's all smiles when I leave for work. Running and playing, jumping on letters, making noise with the noisemakers, and calling the other kids' names.

I'm thinking I can consider the transition to preschool a success :-)

One other side note - an additional benefit to the preschool transition. Because all the kids in the preschool class are potty trained (it's a prerequisite), and because the bathrooms are in the same physical space as the preschool class (they don't have to walk down the hall or go into another class), Bobbin's been having much fewer accidents than in Toddler 2. Toddler 2 is the class next door to preschool. And in toddler 2 most kids are still in diapers. And as such the Toddler 2 class doesn't have bathrooms of its' own; they have to use the preschool class's bathrooms. Which means to let a child go potty in the bathroom, a teacher needs to physically leave the classroom to take him or her to the bathroom in the classroom next door. Which means the teacher has to bring 6 other kids with her to tag along so the proper classroom ratio is maintained (you think herding cats is hard? Try herding toddlers; invariably by the time they are all gathered together the one who had to pee has already done so in her pants) or the teacher has to snag one of the "floats" (wandering teachers who cover the breaks) if there is one and have the "float" stay in the class or have the "float" take the kid to the bathroom (the latter usually doesn't work because what kid wants to pee in front of someone he/she barely knows?). And so in Toddler 2 because the focus wasn't exclusively on the potty and it wasn't immediately accessible in the same space, more accidents tended to happen with those kids who were trying to learn to use the potty. at least, that's my theory for why Bobbin has fewer accidents in Preschool.

All in all, Bobbin actually seems happier and her mind and body seem busier. She needed the transition for many reasons, not the least of which was that she just wasn't getting enough stimulation in the toddler 2 class. In just the 4 days since her move to toddler 2 I am seeing a more confident Bobbin. She is quicker to try new things - like climbing the curved bars on the jungle gym in the preschool playground. She is willing to try to do more things for herself, like putting on her own underwear (although I have a funny story there too; but that's a separate entry) and pants by herself without being asked; dressing and undressing her dolls. She has learned even more letters of the alphabet by sight; she is reading many more books (and she was already reading a lot), she is interested in playing board games, and she doesn't watch tv. You can almost see all the new connections being made in her brain on a minute by minute basis. The transition, so far, has definitely been a good thing.

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Phone Call

Bobbin and I have a phone conversation. She's telling me about what she did at Preschool. She "lay quietly at school and quietly at preschool". She tends to like to run around and make noise at naptime so Tim and I remind her when we drop her off that she needs to "lay quietly in your cot at school at nap time" and when we ask her what she did each day she always makes a point of telling us that she lay quietly :-)

click to view video

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Taco Tuesday

Tim's been taking video of Bobbin while I'm gone. This is Bobbin and Tim having Tacos for dinner.

click to view video

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Barcelona, here I come

I am scheduled to leave the house tomorrow morning at 5:05am to head to the airport to go to Barcelona for 6 days for work.

I am not looking forward to it at all. The last time I left Bobbin for any amount of time overnight was exactly two years ago when she was 6 months old. As hard has it was to separate myself from her for 6 nights back then, it is 200x as hard as it is now.

I hope she does ok. If I know she is doing ok then I will do ok. If I know she is having a rough time, then I'm going to be feeling miserable.

Tim has promised to post a photo of them both every day each day while I'm gone so I can check in and see them. And we'll talk when she wakes up in the morning and when she goes to bed at night. Twice a day every day.

Still it was hard saying goodnight to her tonight knowing that it will be the last time I talk with her face to face for 6 days. Ugh.

I'll try and make the most of it. At the very least, I'll try and get some sleep and read a book when I'm not in meetings :-)

Mommy will be home soon Bobbin! I love you! And I'll be thinking about you every minute I'm gone! Have fun with Daddy (and go easy on him :-)).

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You just can't make this stuff up

I have never actually had the experience of laughing so hard as to make soda come out my nose or spray out of my mouth... Until today at dinner. Which thankfully was at home instead of our usual Friday night haunt.

Bobbin was in an extremely comic and goofy mood... Even for her. Total class clown mode.

But she really outdid herself during dinner. I was feeding her meatballs (sometimes she still likes me to hold the fork. I actually think it is a "for ol' times sake" kinda thing on her part) when she stopped me and the following exchange took place.

Bobbin: Wait, wait, hold on mommy.

Me: ok... What's up?

Bobbin: I got somesin in my pants. Hold on a sec. (reaches down under the table and starts moving her hands like she's actually rummaging around in the front of her pants.)

Tim and I exchange a bemused glance across the table. Bobbin furrows her brow in pretend concentration and continues to rummage.

Tim: Honey, what do you have in your pants?

I take a sip of my lemon lime soda.

Bobbin: (without looking up or stopping her pretend rummaging )I haf a wooster (read "rooster") in my pants...

At this point I spew soda spray across the entire table and launch into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Bobbin stops and smiles and continues.

Bobbin: A wooster and a duck in my pants and I haf to getim out so... There all done.

She brings her hands above the table and deposits her imaginary rooster and duck on her plate.

Soda is at this point pouring out my nose and I am choking on my snot and still laughing uncontrollably. Tears are pouring down my face.

Bobbin asks me what's wrong and reaches out to stroke my hand and tells me it will be ok. I almost fall out of my chair.

I finally calmed down enough to finish my dinner but a couple more eruptions of hysteria laughter bubbles to the surface randomly as I replay the whole episode in my head. Bobbin thinks I'm insane.

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random Bobbin happenings

Bobbin's been getting really good at letter recognition. Any book we read, or any sign we pass while driving or walking, she will immediately point out the letters she knows. "Mommy, look! That's an 'M' for you!". She also knows the "D", "R", and "T". I'm starting to work on vowels with her so that we can actually start forming words :-)

We recently got her a "Learning Tower" so she can get up to the counter and feel safe. We've tried getting her to stand on chairs or step stools to help but she doesn't feel secure. She took to this thing like a duck to water when we got home today and she saw it all set up. We call it her "Helping Tower". This evening she prepared the caprese salad (meaning she spooned it from the container into the bowl) while Tim cooked the pasta and meatballs. When she was done "making" her contribution to dinner, she insisted on carrying it to the table and then proceeded to set the rest of the table without any prodding. In fact, the TV stayed off until well after dinner!

She's also all about serving herself at dinner now. Tim and I are not allowed to serve her. Doesn't matter what we're having - she needs to be the one to take it from the serving bowl or platter and put it on her plate. It makes for some rather interesting food incidents on occasion but for the most part she's pretty neat. Every once in a while we have to remind her that the serving utensil is only for serving; not for actually consuming the food once on her own plate. Have you ever seen a two-year old try to eat a piece of chicken using a serving implement as a fork? Yeah.

Little Miss Independent also must be the one to squeeze the toothpaste onto her toothbrush, pump the soap onto her own hands, to pour her drink into her cup, change her CD in her CD player and press "play", put her own arms in her sleeves (although i'm still permitted to help with putting the shirt over her head), push her own shopping cart, and unload it at the cash register all by herself (if there's no one behind us I'll let her do the whole thing. If a line is forming, on the other hand, I will insist on "helping") and empty her own potty.

This independence also has an up side; she insists (for the most part) on cleaning up her own spills and messes. Even the icky potty ones. Thank goodness. Of course, it usually comes with a slightly hard-to-swallow pill on the side. "Mommy, walk away. Don't touch. Bobbin do it all by herself. Hands to yourself, Mommy. Hands to yourself. Ok? Are you listening? There. ALL Done. Put this in the garbage now Mommy. Mommy? Please. In the garbage now. You're not listening. You're not aspecting Bobbin. Good Girl! I'm so proud of you".

Uh... yeah.

She hasn't yet figured out though that being in the big girl bed has given her some new independence too. She's been in the bed for a month and a half now and not once has she ventured out of her bed, much less her room, after she's been tucked in. I think I'm ok with that. I occasionally wish for a gentle nudge on the arm instead of the loud and sudden "MOMMYYYYYYYY BOBBIN'S AWAKE! MOMMY COME HERE! COME HERE MOMMY!" that is often my wake up call. But I'm careful what I wish for because I know it isn't likely to be as gentle as I'd want when it does finally happen :-) Or maybe she has figured it out but would much prefer I come to her as opposed to her coming to me. That would be in character :-)

Bobbin's also started rhyming and "reciting" her own made up poems. She'll sit in the car seat on the way to school, and pound out

Bob-bin cat and
it's a hat
For sky no pie
Oh guy dah bye
One two twee
bee and bee

in a one-two rhythm. We'll also play the rhyme game where I say a word and she has to rhyme it. She hasn't quite mastered the on-the-spot rhyme so sometimes for lack of an actual word at the ready in the fore front of her head, she'll make one up that rhymes with the word I said. Or she'll pick the word and I have to rhyme it. And when I shout out a word that doesn't rhyme she'll call me "silly mommy" and tell me to do it again.

She's really taken to soccer too, now that we have been able to go a couple of weeks in a row. She loves her coach and mimics her at home. Her coach will start out each practice by having them sit around her in a semi circle on their soccer balls, and then she'll roll a ball to each kid and shout out "What's your name?" and usually the kid will sit there smiling and the parent will shout out the kid's name. And then the coach will shout out "And what'd ya have for breakfast?" and the kid will whisper something to the parent and the parent will shout back "Pancakes!" or whatever it was the kid ate. And then the kid (or more often the parent) will roll the ball back to her and she'll move on to the next kid. The coach is all of about 16 years old, but Bobbin calls her "Coach" as if it's her actual name, and she looks up to her as the authority for all things soccer. As she should. And during this little intro exercise when the ball comes to her she will loudly respond "Bobbin" and "Pancakes" after a only a short hesitation and shy smile, and roll the ball back. At home though, when Bobbin is pretending to be coach, she belts out the questions at the top of her voice:

"MOMMY! WHAT'S YOUR NAME?!"

Mommy!

"AND WHAT'DYA HAVE FOR BREAKFAST?!"

a bagel

"YUM! GOOD GIRL MOMMY! DADDY! WHAT'S YOUR NAME?!"

Her own latest favourite breakfast food, to say at least but not to eat, is Spangled Eggs. Aka scrambled eggs. I'm not entirely sure where Spangled comes from. In my mind it makes sense as a combination of scrambled and mangled but I'm pretty sure we haven't used the word "mangled" in front of her so the word is entirely of her own creation. But she's completely consistent with it. Spangled eggs. I'm not sure but I seem to recall that being what my sister called scrambled eggs as a kid. Sarah? Dad?

I leave for Barcelona in a couple of weeks. I'll be gone 6 days total; leave on a Saturday morning and back late on the following Thursday night. I'm dreading it. I'm going to MISS her terribly. All of these little things that we do every day. Our rhyme game. Our pretend play. Even her "reading" to me while I'm sitting on the toilet because Bobbin thinks it will "help your poopy come, Mommy. Yah! Bobbin read to you a story, ok? Then your poopy will come really fast". Ok maybe I might enjoy peeing and pooping in private without an audience or running commentary or play-by-play back to Tim. but I will miss the rest of it.

And what new thing is she going to start doing in the 6 days that I'm gone?! Nothing big I hope. I don't want to miss it. On the other hand, I do want her to be confident enough to try or start something new while I'm not here because that'll be a big developmental milestone for her. And me.

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Vancouver and other stuff!

It was easier just to write captions for each of the photos than to repeat it all in a blog entry. Suffice to say - we had a lot of fun despite the hotel accomodations. Thanks to Jake, Stef, and Kip, and also to Eileen, John, and Caelli! We had a blast guys - thank you so much! So glad we got to visit!

Here's our January photo album, containing some early January pics, as well as those from our trip to vancouver, and some snaps of our very busy week & weekend without Tim. Enjoy!

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Leave it to Beaver

Bobbin got a fair amount of attention when she was dragging a stuffed cow around town with her everywhere she went. But Millie Moo ain't got nothin' on Beaver.

Ginger and Spicey gave Bobbin a stuffed toy beaver for Christmas. Bobbin had been talking about beavers for a while but had never seen one... I had introduced them to her one morning in the car when she said she wanted to eat the tree outside her window and I told her she'd need teeth like a beaver for that job. "Mommy, what's a Fever?" was her response. When I gave her a description - furry, big oval flat tail that looks like a waffle, two long front teeth, and chews trees - she looked rather incredulous... and skeptical.

So when we... er... ginger and spicey... saw one at Ikea, they just had to buy it for her.

Beaver goes with us everywhere. It's actually an odd looking toy. It's about a foot and a half in length, not counting the tail. Brown mottled fur, beady little black eyes, these two big yellow-white (yes, they actually tried to go realistic with the tooth colour) teeth sticking out of its yarn mouth, and some rather flimsy whiskers (think teenage boy trying to grow a mustache) drooping from each side of its mouth, and you have Beaver.

Beaver's name is Beaver. He is apparently a girl, although prefers to be referred to in the third person masculine form, and he is Bobbin's baby sister. He's learning to use the potty, he loves fruit and really loves soccer. All her words.

But I think the best thing about Beaver is the reaction that Bobbin gets when we're out and about with Beaver. People think it's interesting. They scrape their brain for any amount of beaver relate trivia they might have come across at some point in their lives. They engage us in deep conversations about Beaver's dietary preferences, and whether we have to brush his teeth for him, and whether he's learned yet to communicate with his tail. But even funnier than that is our normally introverted little Bobbin is more than eager to talk the head off of anyone who initiates a conversation with her about her very favourite animal in the world: Beaver. All you have to do is say "Hi! Is that your Beaver?" (all of you who are friends of Tim's can just get your mind out of the gutter right now, thank you) and Bobbin is all smiles and happily engages in an animated conversation.

Beaver came with us to PCC tonight for dinner. He had a pear that Bobbin picked out for him, and he sat in his own highchair, next to Bobbin's (with the understanding that if another baby were to come along, Beaver would have to relinquish his seat). Bobbin had to start his pear for him because despite those beaver-teeth, he just wasn't able to make a dent in it.

Beaver rode around in the little mini shopping cart that we used to collect some groceries after dinner. We stopped in the soda aisle several times because Beaver "weawy woves soda". we brought home a can of organic lemon lime soda just for Beaver.

Beaver shared Bobbin's car seat with her, but he has to be told repeatedly to sit down and be safe during the car ride. Eventually though he does as Bobbin asks.

Beaver sleeps with Bobbin too. And frequently Beaver and Bobbin will engage in some make-believe, where Bobbin pretends she's "Mei" and Beaver becomes "Totoro".

It's kinda fun having a Beaver in the family. We definitely stand out in a crowd! I'm a little concerned about Millie Moo though. She hasn't really been out of the house since Christmas and is looking a little forlorn and out of her element huddled in with Elephant, Tiger, Koko Gorilla, Leopard, and Baluga Whale. But I'm sure she'll be just fine.

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My 29- to 30-month old

Today is January 4th. Bobbin's 29 months old today. I stopped counting months after 24, but I subscribe to the babycenter.com monthly newsletter and they still go by months. There's usually a tidbit or two in them that are helpful in dealing with the latest toddler challenge :-) But this month was a bit lacking. Here's what it said:

Your 29- to 30-month-old

How your toddler's growing: Your toddler is probably able to put on a piece or two of clothing by herself and name a few body parts. She may also be able to identify a color or a friend by name. As she grows more aware of what others are thinking and feeling, she'll become more interested in interacting and playing with other children instead of just alongside them.

She's still working on the clothing - she can take her own socks and shoes off but hasn't mastered putting clothing on yet. But she pretty much has the body parts nailed. Head to shoulders, knees, and toes, hands, fingers, ears, eyes, nose, browse & lashes, elbows and knees, and absolutely everything in between. And I do mean everything. Next time we're together ask me about this. I have a few great stories. I'll refrain from posting them because god knows where this stuff ends up, and I'd hate for it to be dragged out at the wrong time - like when she's running for President (or Prime Minister ;-), or as she's returning from the first (wo)manned mission to Mars, or as she's accepting the Nobel peace prize. But they are funny, so do ask ;-)

Similarly, she knows all her colours now - the whole rainbow.

As for naming friends - she knows new classmates' names before I do (as it should be, really) as well as several teachers and kids outside her class... I think she's got that covered.

I've noticed that she's much more interested in playing with older kids at the playground than kids her own age. She'll play pretend with them, and follow them down slides and up steps, and ask their names.

How your life is changing: Conversations with your baby are a wonderful opportunity to help build her verbal skills. For instance, if she says "Car go," you might say, "Yes, that red car is going down the street very quickly." She won't be able to imitate your bigger words or complex sentences just yet, but she's learning from your example.

"Mommy, who bought that big pink bunny for Bobbin?", "Mommy, why does that car haf a noisy engine?", "Mommy, Beaver is feeling really sad, cause he bumped his head and Alex bit him on the leg, and so he's crying and he misses his mommy, and so, yeah", "Mommy, come scoot closer to Bobbin and lets read this book about airplanes. Come closer. Closer, mommy. Ok. You comfy? Yeah? Ok let's read this book. Oh, mommy, you missed a page. Here let Bobbin help you". "Hey Mommy, Bobbin wants to go outside to throw apples to the deer. Want to come too? It's wet and slippery outside so be careful. Bobbin doesn't want you to fall and bump your head. Here. Hold my hand. Go slowly, ok?"

'nuff said.

Parent Tip: Toilet Training Will Come in Time "If your child isn't toilet trained yet, don't get upset. My son wasn't ready until he was almost three, and then he really got into it. It might help to give him a book or video explaining the process — that was useful for us." — Lizzie

Every kid is different; I know several who were in diapers until age 4; others who were out of them by 1 1/2 (more of the former, few of the latter). Bobbin seems to be right on track with the average for girls; she's wearing underpants full time during the day now - even during naps. She only wears a pullup at night because she's not able to stay dry yet (the before-bed bottle has to go before that's likely to happen, and we're not rushing that). When at home, she does #1 and #2 pretty reliably without incident. At school she's got #1 nailed but so far doesn't seem that interested in doing #2... they are public restrooms, after all and #2 definitely requires more sitting time :-) At any rate - I feel lucky that she's doing so well. I know there's always the possibility of a relapse; all the books talk about it and prepare you for that possibility. We'll just keep doin' what we're doing and take it one day at a time. I'm so proud of her!

Now... what I really need some advice on:

1) How to teach her how not to interrupt
2) How to get her to eat something other than fruit, yogurt, mac & cheese, hotdogs, or meatballs at every meal
3) how to find the time to make something other than fruit, yogurt, mac & cheese, hotdogs, meatballs or some other food-in-a-bag at every meal'

Uh... oh wait... I think if you can solve #3 for me, that should take care of #2 as well :-)

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Santa appears to be slightly ahead of schedule

Appears he just finished up at our house:

He left a super market complete with cash register, shopping cart, and play food, in addition to the much asked for Ballerina Teddy Bear and Santa Teddy Bear. Should be an entertaining morning when the munchkin wakes up and sees this.

My money is on "Oh! My! Goodness!" as the first words out of her mouth when she enters the living room :-)

I suspect his early appearance is due to the copious quantities of cookies that Bobbin left for him next to our tree.

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Dear Santa, 2007

This is mostly verbatim from Bobbin's running dictation last night.

Dear Santa,

Where do you live? Where is the north pole? Is that on top of the earth? Who lives there with you? What do you do at the north pole? Do you like riding the train? Yah? [editor's note: this is a reference to the Polar Express, which is Bobbin's favourite book and which she just recently watched on DVD].

Bobbin's been a good girl. Mommy's a good girl. Daddy's a good boy. Are you a good boy? Yah?

I would like a Ballerina Teddy Bear, and a Santa Teddy Bear. Please.

Who makes these presents for Bobbin?

Come and see our Christmas tree. It's really pretty. Mmm hmmm.

Love,
Bobbin

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Birthdays and Christmas Trees and Big Girl Beds

Been a busy week or so. Wednesday we got ourselves a Christmas tree; Thursday we celebrated my 37th birthday - Happy Birthday to Me! (and it was!!); Friday Tim and I got a sitter and went out on a birthday date. Dinner and a movie in an actual theatre. Saturday we stayed home from Soccer due to Bobbin's growing cough, and instead moved Bobbin out of her crib and into her brand new Big Girl Bed. Sunday we were going to go see Santa Claus, but the cough morphed into a high fever and mucus-y mess so we stayed home instead and alternated between doses of tylenol, motrin, and corn syrup , jacked up her humidifier to high, and spent most of the day listening to our poor, whiney, girl coughing up her lung and snoring like a freight train when she could manage to catch a few Zzzz's.

Seems to be doing much better tonight though so far. Knock on wood.

Here's a few sneak preview photos.

Bobbin decorates the Christmas tree:

Bobbin helps Mommy blow out her blazin' cake:

Bobbin tries out her brand new Big Girl Bed:

For the whole shebang, including a bunch of stuff from the beginning of the month like our snow day, our trip to the Ballet, our Saturday soccer practices, a recent football game, and more photos of this weekend, click here!

I still have to post pictures of Aunt Sarah's visit too from the week before. So stay tuned! :-)

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More of the world according to Bobbin

fever: A brown, furry animal with a flat tail and large teeth that lives near rivers and likes to chew trees.

Bobbin: Mommy, look at dat tee!
Me: It's a lovely tree, isn't it?
Bobbin: I wanna EAT dat tee!
Me: Ah. Well, you'd need teeth like a beaver to eat that tree!
Bobbin: Bobbin haf teef like a fever! Bobbin eat a tee!
[pause]
Bobbin: Mommy, what's a fever?

Can: The name of the girl who lives on P.E.I. with Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert. As in, "Can of Green Gables".

Bobbin: Mommy, wats dat movie?
Me: Oh, that's one of my all time favourites! that's Anne of Green Gables!
Bobbin: Wats dat movie? Yah?
Me: Ok, lets watch it.
[five minutes into the movie, where the husband of the woman who has brought Anne in to care for her 10 children dies and Anne is getting berated for how sluggish and selfish and worthless she is]
Bobbin: (with an extremely concerned look on her face) Mommy, what's wrong with guhrul?
Me: Well, Anne is sad because she couldn't help the lady, and the lady is angry with her and is saying mean things to her.
Bobbin: Can sad. Mommy, why is lady mean to Can?
Me: Well, because she doesn't know any better.
Bobbin: Not ok to make Can sad. Bobbin like Can.

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Bobbin gets ready for Peeschool

Why yes... pun intended ;-)

Some of Bobbin's school friends are starting to move up to Early Preschool, and so she's been talking a lot about "Peeschool" at home and how much "Bobbin want go peeschool too" and how "Bobbin have mowah fun at peeschool" and "Bobbin like peeschool much mowah than toddler 2".

So I talked with the school director to learn more about early preschool, and she confirmed that at age 2 1/2 (ie February for Bobbin) kids can start to move into Early Preschool. Generally they prefer that kids be finished toilet training before they permantly transition up unless they are 3 in which case they'll be transitioned regardless. But the director also said "When kids are exceptionally bright, like Bobbin, we won't keep her back academically if she isn't potty trained; if we have room we'll move her up at 2 1/2". She said it, not me :-). I have to admit to glowing with pride at the remark. Who wouldn't? She had called my munchkin "exceptionally bright" and she's a neutral party :-). I also have to admit to being a little shocked at the verbiage that not moving up until age 3 would be considered "holding her back academically". But I consider myself intentionally naive when it comes to the world of toddler "academics". She did however also inform me that until she is fully potty trained I would have to continue to pay the toddler tuition rate to account for the fact that they'd have to be able to bring someone into the class to change her when she needed it since they don't have diaper changing facilities in the preschool classroom. That's cool. I'm more than happy to oblige.

So come February, Tim and I could be the parents of an Early Preschooler. When did THAT happen?! Good grief.

Now... Bobbin was present throughout this conversation with the director although she was more interested in the Christmas tree and holiday decorations in the office than she was in what we were saying... or so I thought.

But today when I went to pick her up at school she informed me, out of the blue, that she needed to use the potty. I stopped in my tracks. Bobbin occasionally sits on the potty at home. She has NEVER NEVER sat on the potty at school. She's too afraid of it. Or at least had been. And so when she made the request I stopped, collected myself so as not to appear completely shocked, and then as non-chalantly as I could said "Oh? Ok then. Let's go. Do you need my help?". She nodded in the affirmative and then took my hand and led me into the potty room. There were two toddler sized toilets and one almost-normal sized toilet. She pulled down her pants and then looked at me slightly nervously. I asked if she wanted me to help her, and when she said "Yes peas" I gently backed up and sat her bum on the very edge of the seat. Had she actually had to go it most certainly would have ended up on the floor and not in the toilet. But her bare bottom was touching the school potty for the very first time, of her own choice, and so I thought it best not to push it :-)

After she sat a while she decided she was done and then without pause, reached over and FLUSHED THE TOILET. She NEVER does this. Ever. Even at home. She doesn't like the noise. But she did it, smiling, and when I praised her she did it again. And then again. And again. And then she flushed the other potty. And then again. And again. And then she suggested I try it, by saying "Here mommy, bobbin teats you how. Go like this..." and she positioned my hand on the lever and made me push down. And then she flushed again and again and again.

After a while I decided it'd be prudent to stop racking up units on the school water meter and said that we needed to go so someone else could have a turn at the potty. We washed our hands and then out we went towards the front door. But on the way out she stopped in front of the director's office and announced loudly that "Miss Lawa (Laura), Bobbin sat on her potty all by self!" and then she marched out the door with a grin on her face.

Try and convince me that this (the potty sitting as well as the announcement of it to Miss Laura) wasn't a direct result of yesterday's conversation.

And so it appears we are now firmly on the path to Early Peeschool. I'm just kinda taking a wait and see approach. She could decide to change her mind. About using the potty and about how much "mowah" she'd like preschool. Afterall, she isn't even 2 1/2 yet ;-)

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Bobbin Fink

Bobbin has a new favourite retort:

"I don't fink so"

as in

"Bobbin, it's time to get jammies on".

"I don't fink so".

"Bobbin, let's change your diaper".

"I don't fink so".

"Ok, c'mon, we're late for school!"

"No mommy, I don't fink so. Bobbin no wanna go school".

Cute and comical and yet at the same time, not so much, I fink... think...

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Totoddlertarianism

to·tod·ler·tar·i·an·ism /toʊˌtædlɪrˈtɛəriəˌnɪzəm/
Pronunciation[toh-tahd-lir-tair-ee-uh-niz-uhm]
–noun
1. the practices and principles of a toddler regime.
2. absolute control by the governing mood of a highly spastic toddler.
3. the character or quality of a toddler

Bobbin: Mommy, want to listen to some moosic?
Me: Sure!
Bobbin: (shaking head) No? Ok.

5 minutes later...

Bobbin: Mommy, lets listen to some moosic.
Me: Ok.
Bobbin: (gathering her cds and spreading them out on the floor in front of her). Ok, mommy here are oor toices.
Me: Oh, I get to choose?
Bobbin: Mommy, come here. Make oor toice.
Me: Hmm... I like the circus music.
Bobbin: (snatches the cirque du soleil CD from the array of toices... er... choices) Nope.
Me: Ok... well... um.... how about Elmo then?
Bobbin: Nope.
Me: Well, I like that brown one.
Bobbin: Mommy, no.

At this point I pause...

Bobbin:Mommy, pick one. Oor toice. Ok?
Me: How about the blue one?
Bobbin: Nope.
Me: Ok, well then how about you choose?
Bobbin: (selecting the circus CD) Bobbin like dis one. Ooo like dis one, Mommy? Yah? Yah. Ok. Lets listen dis one.

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Bobbinisms Part Deux

In the bathtub this evening, as I was rinsing Bobbin's hair, she turned to me, took my hand (the one holding the rinse cup), looked me in the eye and said "You're done, mister".

'Scuse me?

The other night I was cleaning up Bobbin's mess of books scattered around the floor. As I was piling them on the ottoman to get ready to sort them and put them away, she came over and said "Mommy, stop. Those are my books. This is not a game. Not funny".

True... and was I laughing and enjoying being on my hand and knees collecting books from under the sofa? Hmmm. I think not.

A few days ago we were playing "School" in her bedroom (I'm the teacher, and she's me going to work, and all her toys are the "children" I take care of) when she came shuffling in slowly, cradling her little stuffed puppy in her arms. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Ok. So... puppy fell down and bumped his head, right?" she explained, head cocked to one side as her little girl voice pitched high on the tail end of the statement. And "right" was pronounced "wight".

Like, oh my god? Bumped his head? That's like totally sad, right?

When we go shopping, Bobbin prefers to walk with me rather than ride in the cart. While I am a big fan of walking and encourage her all the time, it does present a few challenges. Especially when something catches her eye. We don't even have to be in the toy section. The other day we were walking through the cold & flu aisle when Bobbin came across a shelf full of bandaids; the kind with the characters on them. She picked up a box of Elmo bandaids. "Mommy, need buy this please?" she asked. "No honey. We've got lots of bandaids at home. We don't need anymore today. Please put those ones back" I replied. She stood there and clutched the box tighter to her chest. "Well, no. Bobbin going to borrow this for just a little bit" she said nodding emphatically with every word she uttered.

What's that officer? These DVDs? Oh, no... see... we were just borrowing them.

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I'm sorry, what?

Normally when I drop Bobbin off at school in the mornings I take her into the "Toddler 1" classroom, or "Tod 1" as she and her teachers refer to it :-). Tod 1 and Tod 2 are almost identical except the age range in Tod 2 is approx 2 1/2 - 3 whereas the age range in Tod 1 is generally 1 1/2 - 2 1/2.

Before 8:30am, all of the 1-3 year olds get dropped in Tod 1. But at 8:30 each morning one of the two Tod 2 teachers, Miss M, arrives and takes the older kids into Tod 2 for the rest of the day.

We rarely arrive before 8:30 but Bobbin doesn't like starting off her day in Tod 2 so we've gotten into a nice routine of dropping her off in the Tod 1 classroom and then when Miss B, the second Tod 2 teacher and Bobbin's other all time favourite teacher arrives at 9:30, she takes Bobbin into Tod 2 with her.

A few times recently however, Bobbin has walked into the Tod 1 classroom, surveyed the kids (all quite young and small by comparison) and then turned to me and insisted that we go to Tod 2. I think she likes being with her friends and the "babies" as she calls them in Tod 1 are a little boring by comparison :-)

And with the exception of today she's done great. I drop her off, get her settled, say goodbye, and nary a tear or protest from her.

Today however, despite the fact that she was in Tod 2 by her own request, when I went to leave she clung to my clothes and my legs, wailing and crying for me to not leave her. Miss M, the Tod 2 teacher who works in the class from 8:30 - 4pm, was there doing her usual diaper changing routine. But when I looked up she had finished up and was just standing there watching the other kids run around and play.

"Could you help me please?" I asked her politely, a sobbing Bobbin clinging desparately to my legs; arms and feet literally wrapped around my knees and ankles so I couldn't move; fingers clutching my jeans in a deathgrip.

Miss M looked at me, and looked at Bobbin. "I'm sorry, I can't help you" she replied, not even trying to reach out to Bobbin. Huh? Wha? I looked questioningly at her. "I'm sorry. I just don't know how to deal with her when she's crying like this" was her explanation.

Oh, you've got to be f^@%ing kidding me. It was all I could do not to scream that in her face and to maintain my composure. But common sense prevailed as I realized that chewing out the woman whom I wanted my child to trust and respect and dare I hope like, was not likely to yield the results I was seeking, was not going to make Bobbin stop crying or clinging to me, and would only serve to undermine the trust and respect and authority she actually did seem to have with the kids .

And so I picked up my sweet, sobbing, daughter and carried her back into Miss A's class where she was promptly swept up into the teacher's arms and distracted with a promise of squirrel-watching in the playground.

And then I went back out to the main office and had words with the director.

I know that Bobbin is very selective about whom she trusts and I also know that Miss M is not yet fully on that trusted person list. But I know too that Bobbin actually does like Miss M, she talks quite a bit about her at home, role-plays her, and calls her a "good teacher". And so I think there is a foundation there to build upon if Miss M would just take the next steps and meet her half way. She's a good teacher, does lots of engaging activities with the kids but she is very hands off - not a lot of hugging or touching or even pats on the back. And while Bobbin may not allow you to hug her the first, second, third, or fourth time that you reach out to comfort her, if you keep on trying gently but persistently each time the opportunity arises (and with a toddler, there's always plenty of opportunity for comforting!) she will eventually let you into her very closely kept circle of trusted people.

But if you just give up after a few rejections you'll never get there.

And Miss M should be mature and experienced enough to understand at least that last point, despite her cultural background.

The director promised to dig into it and get more information. She explained that part of it could just be a language issue and what she said came out sounding more cold than what she intended. But I wasn't going to be able to get into any of that while standing in a classroom surrounded by 2 year olds one of whom was my own so I told the director that if that was the case I'd be willing to workto overcome the communication barrier by asking for clarification when she says stuff like that but if she's simply giving up and not even trying then I expect the director to deal with it directly.

Well see what the director has to say about it when I go back this afternoon.

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3rd Rock from the Sun

Tonight we were watching a show about astronauts and the history of the space station. A shot of the station orbiting in space, with the earth in the distance as a little blue marble, flashed on the screen. "What's that, Mommy?" Bobbin asked. "That's the space station", I replied, "and that's the earth up in the sky... see it?"

"The Earf" repeated Bobbin. And then she added, nodding, "That's our home".

There isn't a single thing that she has heard or seen that she has forgotten. And I'm increasingly convinced that there's little she doesn't grasp.

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Words of the Day

Sammamish - Yes, it is a town, lake, and river in Washington State but it is also the word Bobbin uses for "sandwich".

Moosmic - Bobbin's word for "Music". Oddly enough, I believe that this is how Miss E pronounced this same word at Bobbin's age. Maybe toddlers really do have their own secret language :-)

Pindata - Bobbin's word for Piñata. Yes, she knows what this is, and has decided she wants one for her next party. Although she seemed appalled when I explained you're supposed to hit it with sticks. Until I told her about the candy that's inside.

Avilla - Bobbin's word for Vanilla.

Bandana - Bobbin's latest pronunciation for the word Banana

Banoon - She's getting closer, having dropped one of the "oonoon"s from her pronunciation of Balloon.

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The Cupcake Series

If this month had a theme, it'd be cupcakes.

November 7th: Bobbin enjoys a cupcake dessert after dinner, honouring the presence of autumn

November 8th: She can smile, but she can't hide the tinge of blue still present on her lip from her PCC-purchased cupcake:

November 10th (morning): Bobbin waves to her adoring fans as she licks the icing from yet another after-lunch cupcake treat:

November 10th (afternoon): Bobbin savours the deliciousness that is the frosting on a cupcake at Baby L's first birthday. Oh yeah... the party was fun too!

November 11th: Marked Cousin S's 9th birthday resplendant with... you guessed it... cupcakes. Of course Bobbin had one. Did I say one? She had two.

Her enthusiasm for cupcakes hasn't waned since, but our enthusiasm for serving them has. She does eat healthy food too, honest! Breakfasts are generally whole grain waffles or whole wheat toast with jam, a couple of servings of oranges, and some whole milk yogurt. Lunch is comprised of veggies and usually pasta or something else grainy and she gets her fill of protein at dinner with beef or chicken. Granted it may take the form of hotdogs or meatballs sometimes but we try and mix it up quite a bit :-) . Snacks are almost always fruit - bananas, apples, pears, grapes, and in the summer berries and plums and melon.

I just felt the need to add all of that in. You know. Because. :-)

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Bobbin takes a bite out of the Big Apple

Literally...

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Welcome to C&F 2007

Cold and Flu season 2007 is officially here. And Bobbin started it off right on time with a doozy of a head and chest cold, sore throat, coughing, and fever that started Saturday night and went through till Wednesday noon. Not being content to just repeat her colds from past seasons, Bobbin added a new twist to the routine - started gushing blood from her nose Wednesday afternoon. Not a gyser by any means, but definitely not a slow drip either. And just when we'd get the flow under control and all but stopped she'd cough or sneeze and it would start flowing again.

Wednesday night she slept through the night but when I went to see her in the morning she looked like someone had smacked her in the face with a frying pan. Poor girl had her entire nose encrusted in blood, and it had run down and dried all over her lips and teeth. She was in a chipper mood though, not realizing the implication of the "dirt" on her hands and sheets. Which made the entire experience all that more disconcerting. Have you ever seen a two-year old smiling through a 2-inch crust of blood on her face? Kinda creepy and very heartwrenching. But I kept my emotions at bay and succeeded in cleaning up the "dirt" without letting on just how disturbed I was. She giggled the entire time.

Took her to the doctor after that to get her nose checked out to be sure it wasn't something more serious. Just dryness of the membranes, as it turns out. And I got her a flu shot to boot. Seemed the prudent thing to do, given the circumstances. She was a real trooper for the needle. I explained she was going to get a "poke" and that it was going to pinch and maybe even hurt but only for a second and then it would be all done and she could get a sticker. She struggled and winced when it went in but no crying, and as soon as it was done she all but jumped out of my lap and started running towards the front desk saying "Bobbin have spiderman sticker now pease". And then we went to school.

Her lips are cracked and dry, and her appetite is still not back up to where it should be, but she's slept through the night two nights in a row now, and her nose hasn't bled since the thursday morning horror scene. I think we're over the worst of this one.

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Pacific northwest toddler

Pacific northwest, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

Every saturday morning Bobbin and I head down the road to starbucks and have ourselves a hot chocolate. You can't look more PNW than this, even if you tried: Trademark starbucks paper cup in one hand, pumpkin scone in the other, fleece jacket to ward off the autumn morning chill, and a disheveled, just-woke-up-and-need-my-coffee look.

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Cousin cuteness

Last Sunday we celebrated Cousin B's second birthday! 2 birthdays in two weeks; Bobbin was practically giddy with glee! And cake anticipation.

Much cousin-bonding took place. Oh, and there was a lot of "mine!" "No, mine!" "no, MINE!" "NO! MINE!". And one pushing incident that I caught on video. Saving that one for the archives because I'm quite sure it'll come in handy when they're both older.

Many more photos here of the birthday boy and festivities!

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Master of disguises

Yeah... she likes to ham it up for the camera. We gotta watch how we respond though. The other day she came running up to me, grabbed me around the knees, squeezed me, looked up and said with her trademark cheeky cam-ham grin, "Mommy, Bobbin is soooooooo CUTE!"

A healthy self-esteem, this one. Which is something I really really want to ensure she has because having an unhealthy one is not a lot of fun, as I can tell you from first hand experience. Of course, modesty is good too, but she's got plenty of time to learn that one :-)

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Candy is serious business

Candy is serious business, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

we ended up carting home 3 giant-beer-mugs of candy. One for each floor of the building. We'd finish a floor, I'd dump the overflowing mug of candy into a canvas bag (more swag from the office) and then we'd move to the next floor.

We'll let her keep a few pieces to be doled out once per day and then we're going to either trade the candy in for loose change, or we're going to just have it mysteriously disappear and in its place will be some sort of treasured prize left by the halloween fairy. Haven't decided yet. :-)

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Trick-or-Treat!!

Trick-or-Treat!!, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

We took Bobbin to my work as we do every year for trick-or-treating. This year in the pre-T-or-t frenzy of preparations, we forgot her little pumpkin pail at home. So she had to make do with some work swag instead. She thought this giant college beer bash cup was way cool :-)

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A toddler's interpretation of nightmares: Owies of the mind

Bobbin had a nightmare a few nights ago. Thankfully she has more peaceful dreams than scary ones but every once in a while she'll dream of something that has her rattled for a couple of days.

Last night we were playing with her stuffed animals in her bedroom ("Bobbin's Friends" as she likes to call them :-)) when she got an idea. "Bobbin be wight back. Mommy, wait here" and she trotted off to my bedroom where I heard her rummage around in a paper bag. When she returned she had a box of bandaids in her hand.

"Mommy, teddy sad" she said, bringing him and the bandaids over to me. "Why is teddy sad?" I asked. "Teddy sad 'cause he haf bad deams" she replied, sympathetically. "Oh dear. Bad dreams, huh? Bring him here and I'll cuddle with him". She handed him over and then held out the bandaid box. "Mommy, teddy haf bad deams. Teddy need a bandaid. Make teddy feel better". "Ah", I said. "Ok. I see. Now... where should we put the bandaid?" Bobbin held one out to me and said "put bandaid on teddy's forehead. Make teddy all better. No moe bad deams" was her reply.

And so, one by one, we repeated this exercise and conversation with each one of her stuffed animals. And that is why Teddy, Bunny, Koko, Toto, Tiger, Giraffe and Millie Moo all have bandaids stuck to their foreheads.

So far it seems to be working. Not a one of them have had a "bad deam" since. '

Life should be like that, shouldn't it? I think so.

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Blue Cheese

Blue Cheese, originally uploaded by heathcseattle.

Bobbin smiles for the camera with her mouth still full of blue-sprinkled snickerdoodle at McDonald's.

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A peek into the mind of a toddler

Conversations with Bobbin continue to provide great insight into the working mind of a toddler. Here are three recent examples

Animal Bedtime

Me: Bobbin, your teacher says you're learning all about bedtime this week in school. What kinds of bedtime things do you talk about?

Bobbin: Talk 'bout... mmm... bedtime.

Me: Ah. Do you talk about getting ready for bedtime?

Bobbin: Yes. Bear bedtimes. Giraffe bedtimes. Kitty bedtimes.

Me: Oh yes, everybody, even animals have bedtimes, don't they. Where do you suppose Bears sleep?

Bobbin: Sweep in cwib.

Me: Bears sleep in cribs, do they? Well, if they do then I bet they're nice cosy cribs made out of sticks and leaves. Where do Giraffes sleep?

Bobbin: Dseewaffs sweep in big cwib.

Me: Yes, I suppose it would have to be big for a Giraffe to fit in it,wouldn't it?

Duh, mommy.

Moon Pizza

Laurie Berkner has a song called "Moon Moon Moon". The chorus goes

Look up, it's the moon! Look up, it's the moon! Look up, it's the moon up in the sky. It's big and round And I have found That it looks just like a Pizza Pie

On the way home from school yesterday we were singing the song together in the car. When we got to the Pizza Pie part, I thought I heard Bobbin say something else but wasn't sure. So we sang it again, and when we got to the end I sang

"That it looks just like a..."

and then looked at her, and she smiled and sang out

"Pizza Guy!"

[Insert your own references to pimply-faced teenage pizza delivery boys here.]

This one's for you, Becky!

The other night Bobbin woke up from a nightmare. I sat with her in her rocking chair and calmed her down but she still didn't want to go to sleep. So I started talking about all of the happy things that she could dream about when she was asleep. "You could dream about butterflies, or balloons or", and before I could finish Bobbin chimed in with "Bunnies!" I smiled. "Yes, bunnies would be a nice thing to dream about. How about you dream about cute, cuddly, soft bunnies eating clover in a sunny field under a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds. that'd be a happy dream". A few minutes later I tucked her in and she slept peacefully the rest of the night. And so did I.

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Go Hawks!

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Whatchoo lookin' at, huh?

Say hello to Bobbin's "posse". They follow her everywhere. By everywhere, really I mean everywhere between her bedroom and the living room. Except for Millie Moo of course, who accompanies her outside the house as well.

Tonight though, they were tasked with performing a reinactment of her friend Colin's birthday party, which we attended this morning.

True, the actual event was not a costumed affair, but Bobbin decided the accessories were a necessary part of the play. I myself was sporting an elaborate hairband of ivory beads. I looked rather fetching.

"Kristina" was played by Big Ducky. "Christopher" was performed by Koko Gorilla. And Millie Moo played herself. Of course, none of these friends were actually at the birthday party but a couple of others were. "Colin", played by Bobbin's brown teddy bear who goes only by his first name, Teddy, was otherwise occupied playing "house" with Bobbin's Fisher-Price Little People and so is absent from the photo.

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Wouldn't you rather have a pony?

Two days in a row now, Bobbin's looked at me with those wide, expressive eyes and asked innocently

"Mommy? Bobbin want baby sister. Bobbin have sister, mommy?"

A couple of her friends at school have smaller siblings that she occasionally gets to see when their parents come to pick them up. And the learning "theme" for the last two weeks at school has been "Family" - learning about brothers, sisters, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. We even were asked to bring in family photos. Bobbin's included both sets of grandparents, her Aunt Sarah, Tim and I, her cousin Shawn, Tommy and the kitties. But no baby sister.

At this point my response has been "Really? Do any of your friends have baby sisters at school?" and she nods and talks about Kevin and his baby sister, and Lukey and his baby brother and hasn't demanded an answer beyond that.

I remember when I was really small, before Sarah was born, I made the almost impossible request of my own parents to have a "big brother". I changed my mind after Sarah was born; I was proud as punch to be a big sister to my own "baby sister". To the point that I demanded my Mom bring her to my grade 3 class for my "show and tell" shortly after she was born :-)

So I know someday Bobbin may have a genuine wish for a younger sibling. Right now though, I'm content with it being more of a novelty item :-)

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Botany 101

This

Is Common Yew. Or English Yew. Image courtesy of wikipedia.org. Its latin name is Taxus Baccata. And it is toxic. As in poisonous. As in can be fatal:

"parts of the tree are highly toxic—except the bright red aril surrounding the seed, enabling ingestion and dispersal by birds—due to cyanide and the toxic alkaloid taxine. The plant remains toxic, even when wilted or dried. Symptoms include staggering gait, muscle tremors, convulsions, collapse, difficulty breathing, and eventually heart failure. However, death occurs so rapidly that many times the symptoms are missed. Horses may die from a mouthful of yew, and a 1/4 lb of the plant will kill an adult horse in 15 minutes. The tree should be fenced off or removed from pasture land to prevent grazing animals from consuming it."

Remember the part that says "except the bright red aril surrounding the seed". That's important later on.

This is the number for Washington State Poison Center:

1-800-222-1222

A very handy number to have on your cell phone speed dial in case you or a loved one accidentally or intentionally ingests a substance that is either unknown in its toxicity or known to be poisonous. Dial this number, and you are connected directly to a human who is knowledgeable in such matters as whether or not a Common Yew or English Yew berry will have any kind of effect on a two-year-old when ingested.

Thankfully, the answer to that question is "little to no effect", which is what I was told when I dialed the Washington State Poison Control center after receiving the number from the nursery who identified the clipping I had taken from the bush from which Bobbin had snatched and swallowed a berry before I was able to fish it out of her mouth. The nursery also gave me a handy fridge magnet with the Poison Control number printed on it, should the need arise in the future again.

I hope it does not.

I actually don't know for sure if Bobbin swallowed the berry or not. I was almost certain she had not; I was watching her like a hawk while she was picking the damn berries.

We were walking around the block next to her school (we do this frequently when the weather is nice, before getting in the car to head home for the day). Bobbin stopped at a bush in front of the apartment complex next to her school when she saw the red berries that were peeping out from the foliage. "Bobbin pick bey-yees?" she asked me. Points for asking. I always tell her she needs to ask before she picks berries of any kind. "Yes, you can pick them. But no eating them. We can't eat these. These are for birds. They will make our tummies sick if we eat them, ok?" She nodded. "Bobbin feed birdies bey-yees" she replied, and started plucking away. After she had a couple in her hands I said "Ok, now we need to throw them on the ground so the birdies can eat them". "Bobbin eat them?" she asked. "No, no eat them. Bobbin can't eat them. They'll make your tummy sick. Make Bobbin's tummy sick. And you will have to go to the hospital. We can't eat these kinds of berries" was my firm reply, as I crouched down and looked her straight in the eye. "Throw them on the ground and let the birdies eat them".

In the past, Bobbin has always complied. I know she understands. She knows what "tummy sick" is. She knows certain things will make her very sick if she eats them. And she knows she's supposed to ask before eating berries. We've been through this routine several times and she always tosses the berries to the birdies and acknowledges that the berries are not for people and that they'll make people sick.

But this time was different. This time, quick as lightening, she grinned and popped one in her mouth as I crouched looking into her eyes. I'm pretty sure it was just one. And with my mommy-reflexes kicked into high gear, I reached into her mouth and swept the berry out with my index finger, tossed it on the ground, and then wiped my hands on my pants. "No no no! That's not ok. I said no eating the berries. these berries will make you sick. These berries will give you a big owie in your tummy! No more berries, no more picking, and no more feeding the birds" and I picked her up and carried her swiftly back towards our car.

On the way back she apologized. "Soh-wee mommy", she said earnestly. "Thank you Bobbin" I replied. "I accept your apology". "Bobbin eat beh-yee" she said. "Yes, you almost did, but mommy got it out" I recapped. "No, Bobbin eat beh-yee". I looked at her. "Did you eat one?" I asked. "Yes" she answered. "Did you swallow it?" I asked. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "Where is it now?" I asked. "In Bobbin's tummy" she responded, patting her little tummy.

Oh crap. Did she have two in her hand? I only saw one in her mouth. Dammit.

"Ok," I said, "well if you swallowed it and it is in your tummy, then you might start feeling sick. If your tummy starts to hurt or your head or body starts to hurt or if you feel tummy-sick you need to tell mommy right away. Do you understand?" she nodded. "Bobbin eat beh-yee. Not ok. No more beh-yees. Make Bobbin's tummy sick". I looped back to the bush and broke off a branch with a berry dangling on the end and put it in my pocket. Then I took her back inside the school to wash her hands and get her a big cup of water. She drank several sips before pouring it out. Then I strapped her in the car, and called her doctor's office which, not coincidentally, is just down the street from her school, not a block away.

"Mommy? Bobbin need go hopital?" she asked from the back seat out of the blue just as I was about to dial. I turned around. "Well, Bobbin, I don't know. Maybe. Let me ask the doctor". Bobbin started to cry. "Bobbin no WANT go hopital. Bobbin no WANT go. Bobbin no WANT tummy sick!" Reality had started to sink in. In a way, I was glad to see her concern. "Let mommy ask the doctor. We'll do what the doctor says, ok?". I held her hand and finished dialing.

After explaining what happened, the nurse got on the line and said that if she seems fine now, there's really no point in bringing her in; they can't check for anything, but I should watch for allergic reactions (hives, rash, trouble breathing) and also gave me the number of the Washington Poison Center. That's when I made the first call.

I explained to the helpful gentleman that answered the Poison Center hotline what had happened and he assured me that even though he couldn't positively ID the type of berry over the phone (he was very polite; there was no "duh" tone in his voice :-)) that the fact that it was just one berry meant that it wouldn't cause any severe problems. He said I could always take a clipping to a nursery to get it positively identified, but that a single berry from anything wasn't going to be serious.

Well, I had a clipping, and there's a nursery on the way home so I stopped on the way. Bobbin was happily singing to herself throughout these conversations, in the back seat, occasionally demanding that we cook hot dogs when we got home and reminding me that she ate a "beh-yee" and that it might make her tummy sick.

The nursery was officially closed, but the man who came out to greet me and inform me of this, didn't hesitate to help me when I explained the situation. He looked at the clipping; identified it as a Yew; went inside and looked it up on the internet to confirm, and then informed me of his findings. And then handed me the magnet. I called Poison Control back and the guy on the other end confirmed - it'd take a whole bowl full of berries to have a significant effect. One berry wasn't going to be a problem.

And so went my first experience dealing with a toddler-ingested toxic substance.

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It's important to have a diverse set of interests

Today we went to the "climbing castle" playground near Bastyr University. Bobbin's been on a castle and princess kick for a couple of weeks now. We watch Cinderella non stop; she wears the pink "flower girl" dress we bought for Sarah's wedding at least once a day; and she talks about carriages and castles, princesses and crowns.

When she's not talking about football, hockey, or airplanes, that is!

This afternoon was a typical demonstration of her varied and intense interests. When she woke from her nap, she immediately insisted on watching Cinderella. Which for Bobbin is an active and not passive activity. For one, it requires her to get dressed in her pink "princess dress", "just like Cinderella's". For another, it requires her to prance around the living room with her silver magic wand, dancing and talking about "going to the ballroom in the castle, just like Cinderella" while singing "Let's Go Fly a Kite" (yeah, I know. Different disney movie. But you've got to give her credit for the fact that it is actually a waltz rhythm!).

Today I taught her how to curtsy. As the ugly stepsisters were being introduced to the Prince, I caught her attention and pointed out to her "See the girls? They're curtsying. That's what you do when you meet a Prince or other royalty. Princesses must learn to curtsy too. Here see? You hold your dress like this, and put one foot behind the other and bend down like this". Bobbin wasted no time. She gathered up her skirts in a ball in front of her and squatted down as if she were about to sit on a potty. "Bobbin curtsy like princess!" she exclaimed, with her trademark cheeky "cheese" grin on her face. I held back a belly-laugh. She was just so darn cute! How would any Prince be able to resist those charms?! "Exactly right, Bobbin!" I said. "That was a beautiful curtsy!" and we spent the next 5 minutes practicing them over and over again.

But then no sooner had the ballroom scene ended on the screen than Bobbin was demanding to take off her dress, and immediately scooped her soft football up in her arms and proceeded to "tackle" me and run around throwing her body on the carpeted floor "just like the football players doin' " and scoring touchdowns.

That's my girl :-)

Yesterday we headed to the South 47 farm, where we had a lot of fun picking pumpkins, feeding goats, and goofing off.

Anyway, you can see many more photos here of our weekend. Enjoy!

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Picture Day Pretty

And of course, what would any series of Bobbin photos be without her signature "say cheese" pose:

:-)

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Fickle

Never has there been a more appropriate adjective to ascribe to a typical 2-year-old toddler.

fick·le /ˈfɪkəl/ [fik-uhl]

- adjective

1. likely to change, esp. due to caprice, irresolution, or instability; casually changeable: fickle weather.


2. not constant or loyal in affections: a fickle lover.

Synonyms
1. unstable, unsteady, variable, capricious, fitful.
2. inconstant.

Fickle, inconstant, capricious vacillating describe persons or things that are not firm or steady in affection, behavior, opinion, or loyalty. Fickle implies an underlying perversity as a cause for the lack of stability: the fickle seasons, disappointing as often as they delight; once lionized, now rejected by a fickle public. Inconstant suggests an innate disposition to change: an inconstant lover, flitting from affair to affair. Capricious implies unpredictable changeability arising from sudden whim: a capricious administration constantly and inexplicably changing its signals; a capricious and astounding reversal of position. Vacillating means changeable due to lack of resolution or firmness: an indecisive, vacillating leader, apparently incapable of a sustained course of action.

And never was there a clearer demonstration of the meaning than this morning, with Bobbin, getting ready for Picture Day at school.

Last night I came home with a brand new picture day (and thanksgiving, christmas, and mommy's birthday) dress. It had all the bells and whistles. A pretty, plaid taffeta with a "fluffy skirt" that twirled, and a black velvet ribbon around the waist. Bobbin took to it immediately and insisted on wearing it right away. Happy to oblige I put it on her. And she danced and pranced and twirled herself dizzy in joy and gratitude for her "new princess dress". She was so enamoured of the dress, in fact, that she refused to take it off at bedtime. It was only after "threatening" to withhold her night-night bottle that I managed to get her out of her dress and into her jammies. All of this, I thought, portended a successful picture day prep for the next morning. She'd wear her new dress that she was so thrilled with. She'd show it off to all her friends and teachers just as she was showing it off with us. She'd twirl and spin and dance her way over to the camera, pose (I wasn't actually going so far as to assume she'd smile. But I figured she'd at least stand still momentarily and if the photographer was worth anything he or she would seize on whatever opportunity presented itself and get something at least in focus, if not centered). And voila - we'd have a lovely picture to add to our collection and send to the grandfolks.

Well, suffice it to say, that is NOT how our morning went. She wanted to wear her dress, but the moment she put one foot into it, she changed her mind. She ate breakfast. I tried again. This time two feet but still no go. She watched dorothy. "Look at Dorothy's pretty dress! Your dress is pretty too, just like Dorothy's! See how it spins? See the pattern? Don't you want to wear it?" "NO!" was her reply and she ran off to find Tommy.

Eventually we got through breakfast and I managed to get her into black pants and a white t-shirt and a pretty red sweater. I carried the dress with me to the car and got her strapped in for the ride to school.

At school we stopped at the front desk. "Bobbin, is that your dress? Are you going to wear it for picture day? How pretty", the director exclaimed when we arrived. Bobbin nodded yes and looked at me. "Mommy, put dess on! Now". I bent down. We didn't get further than the two feet and she changed her mind.

After getting settled in her classroom I asked her if she wanted to go watch the photographer. I held her with one hand, and the dress with the other and we walked over to the makeshift "studio" where a little boy was in the process of getting his picture taken. After watching 3 or 4 kids I asked her if she wanted a turn. "Yes!" she replied but when I tried to get her to step in front of the camera she changed her mind. "Go back to Miss anita's cass" she implored. I obliged.

5 minutes later she asked if she could go watch the pictures. "Do you want yours taken too?" I asked. "Yes", was her reply. But we pretty much ended repeating the same scenario.

By the time we got back to Miss Anita's class this second time, Miss Marina was there herding all the two-year-olds into line getting them ready to take them into the toddler2 class. That's Bobbin's class as well. We joined the procession. On the way through the pre-K class to Tod2, there were two little girls in pretty dresses sitting on the carpet playing. I pointed them out to Bobbin. "Look Bobbin! Look at the girls in their pretty dresses! They're getting their picture taken too!". The girls stood up and beaming, rushed over to take advantage of the spotlight I had just cast upon them. "We're beautiful!" one exclaimed. "Look how our dresses move!" said the other. And they started dancing and twirling. That was the breaking point for Bobbin. "Mommy have dess! Bobbin have dess on NOW! Bobbin have petty dess like dose guhruls". And this time, she put the dress all the way on. Another 5 minutes of Bobbin dancing and twirling with the two girls, and we were back on track to Miss Marina's classroom.

When we got there, I explained that I had to go to work now. She started clinging to me. "Mommy no go work. No want mommy go work. Mommy stay at school". I asked her if she wanted to go back to Miss Anita's classroom for a little while longer while Mommy went to work. She nodded yes, and back we went.

No sooner than we were in the classroom and Bobbin was demanding that her dress be taken off. I told her she could take it off if she really wanted to, but that the other girls in the other classroom were still wearing theirs. She decided to keep it on. Then she escorted me to the door and said sweetly "Bye bye, Mommy! Mommy, go to work now pease" and blew me a kiss.

And that was my morning.

I have no idea if they managed to get her picture taken at some point. And if so, I have no idea what she was wearing :-)

All I know is I have never been so grateful to arrive at work and have personnel, schedule, and partner conflicts waiting to bombard me as I walked in the door.

Finally, something I know how to handle!

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Sayin' Cheese

We're off to see the wizard:

Hebrew National: We answer to a Toddler Power:

I'm cute even with left over macaroni and cheese all around my mouth:

but I'm at my very cutest when I've just had a bath and am wearing my pink taffeta princess dress:

Just a few of the brand new photos I uploaded via my mac mini today... and in less time than it used to take me on the PC :-)

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Better than bread crumbs

I was in our master bathroom the other day, sitting on the toilet going about my business with my usual entourage in attendance - Bobbin, Millie Moo, and the two kitties. I can't remember the last time I peed in our house without an audience.

Anyway, I had just completed my... er... deposit as Bobbin looked on in sincere interest (Mommy? Ok? Mommy? All done? Good girl, Mommy!), when I realized that the toilet paper roll was empty. I glanced around. No new rolls.I knew there was a stack of them on the top shelf of the closet in Bobbin's bathroom, however Tim wasn't nearby and I didn't feel like calling out for him from the bathroom; he wouldn't have heard me anyway. Then I remembered there was a box of kleenex on the back of Bobbin's toilet. I knew from experience that Bobbin could reach that far. So I sent her on a mission. "Bobbin, Mommy's out of toilet paper. Can you go to your bathroom and bring me the box of kleenex on the back of your toilet?" She contemplated this for a moment and then enthusiastically replied "Ok!" and was off and running down the hall.

I waited. And waited. And started to get concerned. Had she slipped trying to reach the kleenex? Had she gotten distracted by something else and now I was stranded on the toilet until I drip-dried? Just as I was about to bite the bullet and get up, I heard the pitter-patter of her little bare feet coming down the hallway. I sat back down. Then the footsteps stopped. I heard a pipsqueak voice mutter "Come on. Come on. Ok. I got it". Then the footsteps continued, and I padded into the bathroom.

When I saw what she had done it was all I could do not to just completely bust out in side-splitting laughter. As it was, I did chuckle audibly. In her arms was a HUGE, GIGANTIC wad of toilet paper, bigger than her entire body. And trailing out behind her was a snow white ribbon that snaked all they way out our bathroom door and led all the way back to her bathroom, where it was attached precariously by a single strand from the otherwise empty cardboard tube.

"Here you go, Mommy!" she exclaimed, throwing the pile at my feet, and then she pranced away.

That's my girl :-)

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Welcome to October

I have finally found the answer to "breezebrowser" for the Mac. It's been my quest for the last week since I first got this thing, and it's the reason for my relative silence and lack of new pictures :-)

After toodling around on the Internet looking for "Breezebrowser for the Mac", knowing full well that is not actually what I would find since I had already read the support pages for Breezebrowser and they said in no uncertain terms they do not now, nor do they have plans, to build a mac version.

But the blogosphere is full of mac users who have had to figure something out. Because iPhoto / iWeb for all the two's relative easiness is rather lacking in sophistication needed to actually produce a custom web site to be published to a custom blog that is not a ",mac" web site. . You just can't get in and modify the templates to the extent that you need to and have them look any halfway decent. And so it is through the mac blogosphere - in particular the subset of mac users who used to use PCs and have found themselves suffering severe withdrawal for lack of breezebrowser, complaining and whining and wheezing to all who will listen (and I will, because I suffer the same trauma) - that I found the closest thing I've come to an answer yet. And it's free. It's called Galerie, and if the name doesn't give it away, the interestingly formal style speak and not quite comfortably english manual , along with the little link at the top right that lets you view the french version of the site should inform you that it is developed by a French company located in Toulouse France. Which is just a cool little side fact, but kinda fun.

What really matters is that I was completely able to build my custom templates for my photo albums in this, and have it publish it into a folder I can then FTP up to my server. My workflow from getting photos off my camera, onto my computer, and into my web is about the same as it was when I was using breezebrowser on my PC. And it's cost me the same amount of money.

To do my HTML editing I use Amaya, which I've found to be suffient for what I need. Not bad.

To FTP I use CuteFTP for the Mac - I was using the PC version prior to my recent technology life shift.

So - I get them off my camera straight into iPhoto where I dump them into Albums. I select the album I want to publish and I open up Galerie, select my template, hit the publish button and poof, it generates everything. Then I upload the entire directory to the web site. Pretty much the same stuff I did before.

But I can't tell you how relieved I am, because I was NOT having a happy time using iWeb and .mac. Even though I got close as you can see from my first test post using that process, it was really really really hard to manipulate all the stuff I needed to and kludge it all together, since I didn't have direct access to the template source to be able to modify it.

I've heard this from Apple users before and I'm starting to feel it myself. It has a great surface - shiney, pretty, fun little apps to do fun little things. But the minute you want to go deeper, you realize there is no deeper. You're in shallow water as far as they eye can see. Total sand bar. Which is comforting in one way - you know you're not going to get in over your head. But frustrating in another, because you also can't really have as much a say in what you do. What if I WANT to go scuba diving? What if I want to explore the coral reef that is HTML and XML and cascading stylesheets? I'm stuck on this sandbar. The view is nice, the temperature is right, it's pleasant and my feet feel nice. But I need more.

Anyway, it appears now with the following additions to my mac mini I've been able to start to get back down to the business of being a semi-creative computer semi-geek.

- Firefox (It's just so much more like IE than Safari. Yes, I hear myself. I know what I sound like.
- CuteFTP
- Amaya for editing web pages
- Galerie for creating web galleries from photos

Of the stuff that came on my mac, I find so far that the main things I use are

- itunes

Uh... and that's about it, actually. I do want to check out iDVD and iMovie - see how creative I can be in there. Those are two places where I'm not as saavy and actually would be the target user for applications - can't get into too much trouble but can still do some pretty fun and cool things. At least, that's what I'm expecting.

Anyway - without any further ado, I proudly announce the first publication of Bobbin's October 2007 photo album. Check it out and let me know what you think. There are a couple of nits I need to work out - like why the center part stays white all the way down to infinity despite the fact I'm using the same stylesheet and much of the same code that I did in the old albums. Wacky. I'll figure it out though. The point is - I CAN POST PHOTOS AGAIN!

So... Enjoy! :-)

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September

Trying out something new from my new minimac:

Bobbin's September Photo Album (part 2)

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Dinnertime Q&A

Q: Bobbin, when did you get to be so big?!
A: Bobbin got be so big at skoo-ell

Q: did anything exciting happen at school today?
A: (nodding vigourously with mouth full) Kistofer sell down. Hurt self.

Q: Bobbin, would you like a chicken drum stick or do you want me to cut up your chicken?
A: Bobbin want have tsiken-nugget-stick.

Q: Have you decided on a name for your big puppy yet?
A: yes!
Q: what's his name?
A: Stinkydoo!

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Slightly off target

Since the pee-pee episode in the bathtub a few nights ago, Bobbin's taken great pride in announcing the fact that she feels the "pee-pee coming, Mommy". But we haven't quite transferred that feeling into action... in the direction of the potty. Rather, these announcements usually are followed by a brief pause, and then the happy and proud exclamation "Mommy! pee-pee came! Bobbin did pee-pee in training paints! Bobbin a big girl now!"

Sigh... baby steps. Or rather... toddler steps :-)

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Budding independance

"Good job, Bobbin! you put that on all by yourself!" I exclaimed enthusiastically as Bobbin stood in the middle of her bedroom, beaming with pride; having just finished pulling her blue Elmo pyjama top on all by herself. It had taken her a good five minutes of intensive concentration and deliberate maneuvering of her feet through the neck and then arm holes, followed by a concerted effort, and much wiggling to pull it up over her knees to her waist all the while quietly singing "Let's Go Fly a Kite" to herself.

Eventually I found a way to subtly extracate her bottom half from her jammie top half and get things sorted out and on right way 'round without letting on that anything had in fact been amiss. Add that skill to my growing Mommy arsenal :-)

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Fast and furious

Previously I would get questions like "Mommy, know who dat is?" and I would respond with a semi creative response... "Well I don't know who he is or what his name is, but, he looks older - more like a man than a boy. So he could be a manager in the store, He could be a pilot that flies the sea planes on lake union. Or he could drive trains or busses. He might be a landscape artist because he's wearing jeans and boots and his truck is filled with plants and trees." "Somebody's daddy?" is her response. "Yes, could be someone's daddy. And maybe someone's son. Could be someone's brother. or cousin. or husband.". She's very interested in relationships - of other people to her, and of other people to other people.

But now "Do you know why?" is Bobbin's new favourite question as of 2 days ago. As in "Mommy, no step on sug. Do ooo know why no step on sug?" to which I respond "Because it's not nice to step on the slug, that's why. We don't want to hurt the slug. That's why we don't step on the slug". I leave off the rest of my response: "because slugs are icky yucky blechy slimey eweey and gross and we don't want slug guts and slug slime on our shoes and tracked into the car and house". As with spiders, I am trying not to colour her opinion of slugs with my prejudices towards them :-) Of course, this time of year its hard because both are out en masse. I have recently had to creatively explain away more than one squeal of disgust at the sight or...shudder... accidental touch of one or the other with a random "Oh! did you see that! I think it was a bunny over there! Ooooo!" So far I think she's bought it.

On another topic, last week, Blankie developed a personality. And gender. "Mommy, Bankie have own badana?" was her question as I set her breakfast tray on the ottoman. "Blankie wants his own banana? Ok. Oh... wait.. I'm sorry. I should have asked, is Blankie a boy or a girl?" "Bankie a 'im. Bankie a boy. Bankie no 'er" Bobbin explained. Apparently Blankie is of the male persuasion. And she's consistent about that.

In fact, she's pretty much got all her pronouns down. Me, you, us, I, he she, him, her, mine, yours, his, hers, it, that, this, both. If I were to ask her what the difference is between a boy and girl (I haven't been that brave yet ;-)), I'm fairly sure I'd either get a blank stare, or more likely a list of all of the "boys" she knows and all of the "girls" she knows and then a look that said that's all there is too it.

Yes, Bankie appears to be Bobbin's official BFF. I couldn't have chosen better myself. Of course, it feels good too that "Bankie" is the one and same baby blanket that I crocheted for her myself while I was still pregnant (my one and only foray into the world of yarn since 5th grade when I joined the crochet club so that I'd have an excuse to stay late after school once a week and avoid the bully who waited outside my classroom door every day the entire year we lived in the neighbourhood, and would chase me all the way home shouting all kinds of threats and obscenities at me the entire time).

Despite this close knit (pun intended) relationship she and Bankie share, a couple of evenings ago Bobbin introduced a new friend to us all. "Hayna". "Hayna", or Helena (pronounced He-lay-na) was Bobbin's "Bes Send" at school. Until very recently, when Helena switched to a new school closer to her new home where she and her parents moved. Helena's last day at Bobbin's school was two weeks ago. However it appears that Helena has come to stay in our home with us. Tonight Bobbin had a bath with "Hayna". She insisted I pick Hayna up and carry her into the bathtub. And in the bathtub, Bobbin was very careful not to splash Hayna too much, and to hold her hand and move her over to the other end of the tub when she was in the way of the water faucet. Hayna also sometimes needs to go potty. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately for Hayna) Bobbin never has to go potty at the same time, but she is very accomodating to Hayna, showing her where the potty is and lifting the lid for her and reminding her to wash her hands.

Bobbin also remembers that she had once pushed Hayna at school and had made her cry. She still talks about it. I hope she doesn't think that Helena isn't at school anymore because of that. When I learned that Helena would be transferring I tried to explain to Bobbin that Helena was going to start going to a new school near her new home in her new neighbourhood. I said that she would miss playing with Bobbin just like Bobbin would miss playing with Helena. But that both Bobbin and Helena would have lots of new friends to play with too that would make them both happy. Whenever she talks about how she pushed helena and how it made Helena cry, I remind her that it made Bobbin feel bad too (apparently bobbin was more traumatized by what she had done than Helena was, according to the teacher) and that Bobbin felt sorry for what she had done, and then she and Helena were friends again. It's interesting that we have this imaginary little girl living with us. Not all the time. She just appears here and there. I know it's a sign of a healthy imagination, and the fact that she's chosen a real person, her "bes send" as she called her herself, to be this imaginary friend is interesting, and touching, but it can on occasion get mildly unsettling when she "pops up" out of nowhere. But we go with the flow :-)

Bobbin's recently also become attached to a new adjective. "Deee-looo-soos". Which is bobbin-speak for "Delicious". When she's eating something yummy she puts her index finger in her mouth and pulls it out fast with a sucking sound and says "Deee-looo-soos". She gets this from "Mary Poppins" - the "children who get their feet wet must learn to take their medicine" scene where MP pours some medicine into a big spoon for each of them from the same bottle, but it comes out in different colours and with different flavours. Jane says "Lime Cordial! Delicious!", and Michael says "Strawberry! Mmmm!" and Mary Poppins says "Rrrrrrum Punch!" and licks her finger the way Bobbin does and then hiccups. So now whenever she says "Deee-looo-soos" I respond with "Rrrrrum Punch!" and she giggles, cause she knows I "got it" :-)

We have achieved another milestone on the potty front. Bobbin knows definitively when the pee--pee is coming. And she knows it long enough in advance that she could make it to the potty if she wanted to. And in fact she also knows how to "hold it" when she's not ready to let it out. I discovered this the other night in the bath. "Pee pee coming, Mommy!" she said in a slightly panicked voice while standing in the tub. I asked her if she wanted to sit on the potty. She declined, and held her knees together. I asked her if she wanted to come out of the tub to do her pee pee in a diaper. She shook her head, and held her legs more tightly together, clearly struggling to keep it in. "Well, if you don't want to put it in the potty, andyou don't want to put it in the diaper, I guess you should let the pee-pee come in the bathtub, Bobbin" I said, and coaxed her gently to let it out. She relaxed,and well... you can imagine the rest. Of course, that ended the bath :-). But I praised her and hugged her and kissed her for knowing that the pee pee was going to come and told her what a big girl she was, and she was very very proud, even though she didn't make it to the potty. She got that she knew what it felt like before it happened, and I definitely saw her recognize the power in that. We'll keep working our way to the toilet. Our floors are hardwood :-)

Another very recent new behaviour is that owies now require not just Mommy, but also Daddy to kiss it and make it better. For the last several days whenever she's bumped, pinched, or stubbed something I've given her the initial hug and kiss, but she has without fail pulled away from me each time and gone searching for Tim, sobbing "Daddy kiss it better". I have to say I have very mixed feelings about this. Tim does not at all have mixed feelings about this :-) All in all though, she still needs comforting from Mommy too, so it's not like I've been completely cast aside. I guess I better get used to it though... she gets more and more independant every day!

The next-to-last dramatic change that I'll mention is that we appear to officially be down to 1 bottle a day. The "Night-night" bottle. She's been skipping her morning bottle; occasionally asking for it, but I decline and remind her she hasn't had a good morning bottle in a long time, that she only gets a night-night bottle now, and I manage to keep her busy until we get out the door. Not sure what caused the switch, but don't much care. Just happy that it has happened.

And the elimination of the morning bottle seems to have had the affect of increasing her thirst for water from cups. She downs water. From water bottles (we buy the little tiny 4 oz plastic bottles because she thinks they were made just for her but she still feels as grown up as mommy and daddy when she drinks from them cause they're just mini versions of what we drink from). From sippy cups. From big girl cups. From the water fountain at school. I'm ecstatic! I now keep a 24-pack of the 4-oz water bottles in my trunk so I can pull one out at any time she's thirsty, and she'll drink it straight from the bottle. She won't drink juice (no complaints from me on that one though) and she will still only consume her milk from the night-night bottle (but she gets plenty of dairy other ways too, and that's still between 8 and 14 oz from the night-night bottle alone). I'm so happy about the water consumption!

So that's basically been the last month for us... all of these changes seeming to happen at once. It's been busy. Because in between all of the above, and all the good times playing and cuddling and running and jumping and reading and singing and conversing and wrestling and colouring and being silly, there are of course still the infamous terrible-two-tantrums. However they aren't increasing in frequency or severity, and she does understand our boundaries and rules and the reasons for them. I know this because she imposes the same boundaries and rules on all of her toys and on "Hayna", and doles out the same timeouts and lectures and removal of privileges when they don't respect them. That doesn't prevent her from continuing to test them with us though to see if they've changed :-)

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Almost fall... where does the time go?

Looking through my blog, I realized that it's past the middle of September and I hadn't posted nary a photo since Sept 1st. But we have been busy doing stuff! Here are all of our september photos, including our trip to the Evergreen State Fair, another zoo trip, and more. Is it any wonder I haven't had a chance to upload them before now?

A picture is worth a thousand words, and that one about sums it up for all of us ;-)

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Can you hear me now?

Hello? Grandpa? Is that you?

Now... aren't you glad I didn't say "banana"? Or as Bobbin would say it, "Babana"?

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Insomniac minds want to know: What do I do with all those other dresses?

I spent 45 minutes with Bobbin this Sunday, in her room, in front of her closet, trying on every single dress she owned one by one, so she could see how well it "spinned".

This is, apparently, a very important characteristic in a dress. A dress with too little spin is destined for the back of the closet, to be shunned at every occasion, regardless of any other decoration or attributes it may sport. The mere sight of it may even induce a dreaded toddler temper tantrum. The amount of sparkle, colour, pattern, type of fabric, and number of adornments, while all important factors in determining the toddler-appeal a dress may have, doesn't even come close to the importance of the "spin factor".

While Bobbin owns several quite pretty dresses that at an earlier age (as in a couple of months ago) she found quite appealing, now that she has entered this more fashion-concious state of development she has but one dress hanging in her closet that she will actually wear. The rest have been set aside for lack of "spinningness".

Spinningness is essentially how close one can get one's dress to appear as a perfectly flat 2-dimensional circle centered at one's waist, while one is spinning around in a circle at full toddler speed with arms outstretched.

Spinningness is not to be confused with poofiness. Poofiness is an entirely different characteristic, and not at all an appropriate substitute for lack of spinningness so don't even try.

If you think of a circle whose radius is the length of the skirt as the desired goal, the closer one gets to achieving that goal with one's dress while spinning, the better the dress. I,e:

For a dress to have even moderate spin appeal, it's radius while spinning must be greater than it's height during spin. Using the above chart as a guide, a dress should have a Spin Quotient of at least 0.75. Anything less and the dress will be deemed unspinnable and thus not suitable for wearing. The closer to 1 you can get the better. Dresses that have been labelled as unspinnable may, however, be determined to be suitable attire for stuffed animals so don't completely discard it.

And of course, next week, it may come back in fashion and she'll be asking for it explicitly and no other dress will do. You just don't know, do you.

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My Favourite Bobbisms

Bobbin's speech - pronunciation, articulation, complexity of ideas conveyed - is going through dramatic changes on almost a daily basis. So before they disappear entirely, I wanted capture a few of my favourite "bobbisms" for posterity:

Jammie Pop - Bobbin's phrase for her pyjama top, or pyjama shirt

Peekadoo - What Bobbin says instead of "Peekaboo"

Polive - Bobbin's word for "olive". Not sure why the "P" is there. She must just think it sounds better :-)

Banoonoon - This is how Bobbin says "Balloon"

Dee Dee Dee - Bobbin's word for "DVD". As in, "Bobbin wats dee dee dee now pease?"

Pompoon - What Bobbin calls those floatie things that seaplanes have instead of wheels. You know.. pontoons... "Mommy... dat popello pane wis pompoons. no wheels. Land in water".

Panny - Bobbin's word for "nanny". No idea why the 'P' instead of the 'N'. Except perhaps that she associates it with Mary Poppins (or just "Poppins", as she refers to her). "Mommy, wind come bow pannies away. Pannies go bye-bye. Poppins come wis umbella" is her narration for the start of the movie where the stern nannies all dressed in black, lined up in front of the Banks household awaiting their interviews, are suddenly blown away by a gust of wind that also serves to guide in Mary Poppins, who is floating gracefully along by her umbrella.

And of course, there's the ongoing replacement of "f" with "s"... "Mommy, has sun today?" "Mommy seed Bobbin?" "Mmm... good sood". "Seet on soor, Mommy. Not ok". "Mommy got dirt on sace. C'mere, Bobbin wass it".

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Look, mommy. Butterfly!

So... TWO weeks ago, we went to the Pacific Science center. Did the "Peek into the Planetarium" specifically for 0-4 years, followed by dinosaurs (of course), butterflies, and a rolicking romp in the toddler room.

An exhausting day that ended with Bobbin in the carseat asking "Mommy? Has Sun today? Bobbin has sun today. Mommy has sun today too?" which translates from bobbin-speak as "Mommy? Did you have fun today? Bobbin had fun today. Did mommy have fun today too?"

I was in midsentence in my reply when I heard her snoring. Yup. I did. I had a super-fun day, Bobbin! Sweet dreams, princess :-)

You can see tonnes more pictures from several weekends ago, our Pacific Science Center visit 2 weeks ago, and our Zoo visit last week here.

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Do Feed The Animals

We went to Woodland Park Zoo last week. Tim had done some online research and found they have a new Giraffe Feeding exhibit. You pay $5 (children 2 and under are free), they give you a branch filled with leaves, tell you to hold on tight to it, and then let you feed the giraffes straight from your hand from a raised platform while they tell you all about these absolutely amazingly beautiful creatures!

Bobbin was totally enthralled :-) I was holding her so didn't get to take any great pictures of her facial expression, but she was smiling almost the entire time, and giggled as the Giraffe reached out with its mile-long tongue and slurped the leaves right off of the branch she held out to it.

Here she is here contemplating the one remaining leaf in her hand as the Giraffe pretends to not be interested in it.

Eventually she decided the giraffe could have it

and he came and lifted it gently off her outstretched palm, much to her delight :-)

After we fed the giraffes, we decided to head over to Willawong Station to feed the birdies. Bobbin was just beside herself with glee. It was pretty cute. Birds were landing all over her - her shoulder, arm, hands, and devouring popsicle-stick after popsicle stick of bird seed.

Then it was on to the zoomazium for some much needed climbing, crawling, jumping, and sliding.

And bongo playing.

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The Bears and the Bees, Pompoons, and a linguistic observation

Bobbin's favourite book lately is the lift-the-flap board book called "where is spot?"

Spot is a puppy, and the book has you lifting all sorts of flaps to look for Spot, who is hiding. Is he behind the door? No! Is he under the stairs? No! Is he in the closet? No! But there are all sorts of other critters in the aforementioned places. One of which, is a bear eating a pot of honey.

Me: Is Spot behind the door?

Bobbin: (lifting the door flap to reveal a bear eating a pot of honey) No!

Me: What's behind the door?

Bobbin: A bear!

Me: What's the bear doing?

Bobbin: Bear eating honey!

Me: Who made the honey?

Bobbin: Bees made honey!

Me: What do bees use to make honey?

Bobbin: Pah-yen!

Me: That's right! Pollen from flowers!

Future botanist / master gardener / entomologist?

Later, outside

Bobbin: Mommy, look! A plane in the sky!

Me: Yes, it is a plane!

Bobbin: Popeller plane.

Me: In fact, yes, it is a propeller plane.

Bobbin: (shaking head) no dets.

Me: That's right. It uses a propeller to fly. Not jet engines.

Bobbin: No pompoons.

Me: True. It doesn't have pontoons, so it can't land in the water.

Bobbin: Go airport.

Future seaplane pilot / aeronautical engineer?

Bobbin: Mommy, colour wis us? (that'd be the "royal us" :-))

Me: Sure! I'd love to colour with you.

Bobbin: Mommy say colour?

Me: colour.

Bobbin: Anita say "colah"

Miss Anita was her toddler 1 teacher. She speaks English fluently but with a fairly heavy Asian accent. She does, in fact, say "colah". Bobbin's clearly picked up on the fact that different people can say the same thing in the same language with different sounds. She doesn't seem confused or upset by it. Just sees it as an interesting observation.

Future linguist / anthropologist?

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Totally Two... but self aware at least. And honest about it.

This was the conversation Bobbin and I had when I went to pick her up from school:

Me: (after recovering from the giant hug and ear full of happy screeches) Hey, Bobbin! I missed you all day today! How was school? What did you do today?

Bobbin: (looking at her friend Helena, standing next to her) Helena.

Me: Did you play with Helena today?

Bobbin: Bobbin take Helena coat. Make Helena sad.

She doesn't waste any time confessing. Must be the roman catholic genes.

Me: Why did you take Helena's coat?

Bobbin: Bobbin take Helena coat. Not ok.

Me: That's right. Not ok to take something from someone. Did you say you were sorry?

Bobbin: Bobbin pay Helena outside. Bobbin hit her. Push her. Make her sad.

Apparently it didn't stop with the coat-grabbing. Bobbin hit and pushed her while playing outside too. I glance over at Helena standing shyly beside Bobbin smiling. She appears to have put the incident behind her, but Bobbin clearly had not. Well... that's good. I think. A sign of remorse, perhaps.

Me: (in my sternest "not ok" voice and face. It wasn't hard to muster. I was not happy by this rather out-of-character behaviour she was relaying to me, but at the same time, wanted to make sure I didn't deter her from confessing to similar descretions in the future) Bobbin, that's not nice. No hitting. We don't hit. Hands are not for hitting. When someone hits Bobbin, it makes Bobbin sad. When Bobbin hits someone, it makes that person sad. That's not ok.

Bobbin: Not ok. Miss Books say Bobbin not ok.

Me: that's right. It's not ok. Miss Brooks is right. We don't hit people. We use our words. If someone makes us angry, we say "No" or "Stop" or we walk away. we don't hit.

At this point I temporarily suspended the lecturing. I mean, yes, it's serious and I'm quite upset. This is the first time she's ever hit or pushed anyone besides Tim and me. In a weird toddler kinda way, I think it must mean she's that comfortable with Helena, I guess. But it's still VERY not acceptable behaviour.

So I gave it a short rest, and then a little later on as we were walking to the car, I took a different approach.

Me: Bobbin, do you like Helena?

Bobbin: Yah.

Me: Is Helena your friend?

Bobbin: Helena Bobbin bes send ("best friend"... not a phrase I had ever heard her use before, and one that I don't think I ever used... interesting.).

Me: She's your best friend?

Bobbin: (shyly). Yes.

Me: That's very special, isn't it. It feels good to have a best friend.

Bobbin: Helena bes send.

Me: I think Helena likes you too. I think you're her best friend. I think that's why she was sad when you hit her and took her coat away. That's not what friends do.

Bobbin: Mommy, stop it. Mommy, all done.

I think that was her way of telling me "I get it already, mom. Stop with the lecturing".

The "lecture, rinse, repeat" approach seems to be getting through though. It appears to have worked with naptime. We have a conversation in the car each day about how to behave at naptime, and her teacher says she's back to almost normal, and just needs a reminder every now and then that it's nap time and she needs to sit or lay quietly in her cot. We'll see if it holds true for the hitting. She hasn't been hitting as much at home the last couple of months, which is good. But not if it means she's doing it at school instead. I think we're catching it at the very beginning though. And quite honestly, I'm a little surprised it's taken this long to surface given how aggressive a couple of her school mates are in class... but at least even when she's misbehaving, she's very "Bobbin-like" about it, making sure to tell us about it and all. Most helpful ;-)

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Never too little for big dreams

On the car ride home from friday night festivities:

Bobbin: Mommy! Moon! (pointing out her window)

Me: It is the moon! It's so bright. It's almost a full moon.

Bobbin: Bobbin dance on moon like Elmo (a reference to one of her Elmo's World DVDs)

Me: You want to dance on the moon like Elmo does?

Bobbin: Yeah! Bobbin dance on moon. Go up in space.

Me: If you want to dance on the moon, then I believe you will some day. You need to go to school, and learn your numbers and letters, and learn how to count and read and write. And then when you'll all done school, you need to go to Astronaut school where you'll learn about the moon and stars and space shuttle. And then when you're all done Astronaut school you can go on the space shuttle and go to the moon.

Bobbin: Bobbin go skoo-well. Go Astonot skoo-well. Lady talking about stars and moon. Bobbin get space suit. Go on space shuttle. Go dance on moon like Elmo.

Me: Yup. That's pretty much all there is to it!

But it didn't end there. She continued the drive talking about being an astronaut, taking the space shuttle, wearing a space suit, and dancing on the moon. When we got home, which incidentally was almost 2 hours past her bedtime, she wanted to read her "I want to be an Astronaut" book while she drank her nighttime bottle of milk. And then she continued to talk about space school and being an astronaut and wearing a space suit and dancing on the moon, and asked if she could take Millie Moo and blankie too. And would Millie Moo need a space suit too?

That's our girl. 2 years old and dreaming of astronaut school and dancing on the moon. Doesn't get much more grand than that! And I'm quite convinced (and of course, completely unbiased ;-)) that if she decides she really wants to dance on the moon when she's older, then that's what she'll do!

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Sk8er Girl

I'm brushing my teeth this morning when I catch a glimpse of a 3-foot-tall disheveled little imp on a purple cloud whiz by , arms outstretched, gleefully shouting "wheeee!"

It's early. But I'm pretty sure I'm actually awake.

I spit and tiptoe out into the hall to follow my vision and spy Bobbin sailing down the hallway's hardwood floor with one foot standing on her little doll pillow, the other foot pushing her forward.

"Bobbin, what are you doing?" I ask.

"Bobbin wide skatebode" is the response I get back, and then she's on her merry way again, "skating" towards the kitchen.

Where the hell does she get this stuff?

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Ain't Misbobbinhav'in

Bobbin has been misbehaving
at nap time a little more every
day. If you could please talk
w/ her that would be great.
Thanks -
B

This was in the "comment" section of her daily report. Sigh... well, it had to start sometime ;-)

I asked Bobbin about it in front of Miss B. I asked what she does when Miss B tells her it's nap time. "Bobbin no behave" was the response. Yeah...

So we spent some time talking about it throughout the night here and there.

When we were having dinner we talked about how it's important to listen to the teacher and to do as she asks, and how running around the classroom makes the other kids who are tired not sleep and they get cranky. I asked Bobbin what she was going to do tomorrow when Miss B told her it was nap time. Bobbin looked at me and smiled a coy smile and took a bite of steak. "Are you going to run around and make noise?" I asked. "Yes!" was her reply. "No... that's not ok" I said, shaking my head. Are you going to lie down quietly in your cot?" I asked. "If you're not sleepy that's ok. You don't have to sleep. But you do have to lay quietly so the other kids can sleep" I said. "If you're not tired, you can read a book. So tomorrow, when Miss B tells you it's nap time, if you're not tired then ask her if you can read a book in your cot instead". "Bobbin read book" was the reply. Followed immediately by "Bobbin want airplane sheets at school" and another mouthful of steak.

Later in the bath we played "Bobbin is the Teacher". All her little tub floatie friends were in the water, and I declared that "Bobbin is the teacher, and this tub is Bobbin's classroom. Everyone needs to listen to Miss Bobbin and do as she asks please". "Bobbin's Casswoom. Bobbin good teacher. Bobbin drink water" she added on at the end, and then proceeded to chug a plastic cup full of water (it was clean from the faucet. The cup on the other hand, probably not so much. Ah well).

I said, ok Miss Bobbin, you're the teacher. When you say it's nap time, what is everyone supposed to do? "Nap time evee-body. Lie down kie-et-ly. Isten. Ok? Bobbin casswoom. Bobbin good teacher".

So tomorrow I think I'll pack up one of her airplane sheets and a favourite story book that I'll tell Miss B she is only to have at nap time if she's not sleepy. And we'll talk about it more at breakfast and on the way to school in the car.

And yeah... we'll see how effective this all is :-).

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Bobbin Potty Chronicles - Part I: When you gotta go...

So the sticker thing seems to be working, in terms of providing motivation to actually sit on the potty.

She's also moved on from sitting on it fully clothed to sitting on it with a bare bum. Major progress. She only gets a sticker now if she sits on it bare. we'll go into the bathroom and she'll sit down, wait 30 seconds, get up, get a sticker, sit down, wait 30 seconds, get up, get a sticker, sit down, wait 30 seconds, get up, get a sticker, etc. After the 5th iteration in as many minutes, I stopped doling out stickers :-)

we had a couple of interesting little "incidents" in the past few days as well, as she adjusts to the idea that she will eventually not be doing her pee pees and poo poos in her diaper.

The first happened on Sunday. In a further move to motivate her to use the potty, I let her run around the house without a diaper on - bare bottomed. I told her that if she felt the pee pee or poo poo coming, we could go into the bathroom and she could sit on the potty.

She was having a grand old time running around with nothing on her bottom, playing and jumping and running and helping me put away her clean laundry, which contained several pairs of brand new, freshly washed, big girl underpants. "Help" is really a loose description of her involvement in the process, which is really all about dumping the contents of the laundry basket onto the floor and throwing underpants across the room in an effort to get them in the drawer.

But it was during this activity that she suddenly stopped, and stood frozen in place, and turned to me and said "Mommy, Bobbin do pee pee". I said "Do you need to go pee pee? Lets go sit on the potty". So she ran in the bathroom and sat herself down on the potty and then immediately jumped up and exclaimed "All Done!". I looked inside. Clean and dry. Not a drop to be seen. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Bobbin all done pee pee!" she exclaimed and ran back into the bedroom. I shrugged and followed her in, and returned to putting her underpants away in her drawer. And when I picked up a pair of dora panties and a stream of yellow ran off of them, I realized she had "let go" right then and there before running into the potty. I still consider it progress!

The second incident wasn't quite so jovial. Again running around with no diaper or pants on playing in her room, Bobbin suddenly stopped and exclaimed "Bobbin need go poo poo". I asked her if she wanted to go sit on the potty. "No! NO NO NO! Bobbin no poo poo. Not now. No poo poo. No poo poo come out" was her response, a strained yet stressed look passing over her face. A look that clearly said "I have to poo. But I don't want to poo. I'm not ready to poo. I don't want to sit on the potty to poo. Yet I must poo". I picked her up and carried her into the potty but she refused to sit and yelled "No poo poo. No potty. No poo poo now" and ran back into the bedroom, and started grabbing for her diaper cubby, clearly upset at the prospect that she was about to do "something", but didn't want to sit on the potty AND didn't want to make a mess on the floor. So quite rightly she started searching frantically for a clean diaper and insisted I put it on her. I obliged.

And then 5 minutes later, I changed her again :-)

Neither of these incidents caused any major setbacks though. She still happily sits on the potty when her mood strikes her to do so, and I still give her a happy face sticker with each attempt. The twinkle twinkle star stickers, she knows, are special and reserved for when she actually gets something in the potty. And she's ok with that. Right now, the happy face stickers are what she's all about :-)

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Only a Bobbin knows why...

Bobbin and I went out for dinner tonight, as Tim was working late (or at least, I thought he was; apparently we got our signals crossed and he actually was home in time for dinner; unfortunately we had already eaten ;-)).

At the restaurant, Bobbin was given a pack of crayons by the waitress. I opened it for her (after she spent 5 minutes trying to rip it open herself with her teeth. Yeah, those are my genes at work). She took the blue crayon out of the pack and proceeded to spend the next several minutes carefuly peeling the blue paper off of the crayon. She didn't say a word. Just hummed quietly to herself.

After she was finished with the tearing, she took her empty sippy cup and proceeded to drop the little bits of paper into it one by one. Upon completion, she looked up at me and inquired "Lid?"

I handed her the lid and she snapped it on to the cup. Then she shook it vigourously. Then she pretended to drink from it. Several times. Issuing a satisfying "Aaaaaah" after each pretend sip.

Well heck, it entertained her until her hotdog arrived.

On the car ride home from the restaurant, Bobbin was unusually quiet. I glanced up in the rear view mirror to find her entire face smeared in black. What the hell had she gotten into back there? And could it be toxic? Or... POOP?!

I was about to pull over to search the back seat when I saw her reach down behind her butt, wiggle around, tongue sticking out of her mouth and brow in a furrowed, concentrated look. the look of concentration was quickly replaced by one of triumph as her hand reappeared, a glob of half-squished blackberries oozing out of her fist. She briefly examined her treasure and then popped it into her mouth with a smacking sound, and then proceeded to go back in and rummage around her butt for more.

When she came up empty the last time she asked innocently "Mommy? More berries pease?" to which I responded 'Sorry honey. The ones under your bum were the only ones I had in the car. We'll have to pick more when we get home".

Butt berries. Yum. And more than 24 hours old at that. I'm such a great mom.

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Being on the road to potty-trainedness: Priceless

- Safety 1st 3-in-1 Comfy Cushy Potty - $15.99 at Target

- 1 pack of 1,300 smiley-face stickers for when she sits down and tries - $6.99 at Target

- 1 pack of 1,300 sparkle star stickers for when she actually puts something in the potty - $6.99 at Target

- 1 large wall calendar for tracking the potty stickers as they get awarded - $4.99 at Target

- 1 pack of Dora the Explorer Huggies pullup training pants - $13.99 at Target

- 21 pairs of her favourite character big-girl underpants (Hello Kitty, Dora, Penguins, Elmo) - $35.94 at Target

- 1 extra-large bottle colour-safe bleach for aforementioned underpants (as needed) - $10.99 at Target

- Old wicker basket filled with a variety of seldom-read storybooks, boardbooks, and magazines - free, after digging around in our basement for 15 minutes.

Over the last few months, Bobbin's taken only a few steps and shown little interest in starting potty training. No biggie; everyone learns to use their potty in their own time. So we haven't been pressuring her, but we have been trying to make her environment more condusive to her wanting to give it a try.

Recently she's taken to wanting to sit on her potty fully-clothed, whenever I'm on mine. But the little "boy-shield" in the front of her baby-bjorn potty (which I purchased because it was both highly rated by parents of girls on Amazon as well as being quite cheap) has been a problem. Every time her little toosh hits that bump it's game over and she stands up.

So a couple of days ago I hit Target and got her a brand new potty (link above) that looks a lot more like Mommy and Daddy's big-person toilet (lid, rim, and all) than the old baby-bjorn thing, along with a bunch of stickers and a "potty chart" (aka cheap wall calendar), rummaged through her bookcase to dig up a bunch of reading material that she hasn't touched in a while (creating that whole "oooh, it's new" sense of interest), and set about arranging "her" bathroom.

I wrapped her new potty up in paper and stuck a bow on it so that when she got home from school it was there waiting for her. I hung the calendar on the wall in the bathroom, stuffed the stickers up on the top shelf of her towel closet, arranged the books in a little basket next to where I imagined she'd want her new potty, and then sat back and waited for her return home.

The tactic seemed to have worked. She tore into the "present" with an excited "Ooooh! New Potty!" exclamation when she was able to determine what was beneath the paper. She helped me "assemble" it, and then she picked out the spot in the bathroom where she wanted it.

I showed her the "potty chart" and the stickers, and explained that each time she sat on the potty and tried to put her pee-pee or poo-poo in the potty she would get a happy face sticker. And each time she ACTUALLY got something in the potty she would get a sparkly star sticker. And she would stick all of her stickers to her potty chart, and when it got all filled up we'd go and get a surprise.

Well, darn if it didn't work first try! No sooner had I finished showing her the stickers and explaining the process than she was asking "Mommy, Bobbin sit on potty and get sticker now?"

The first half-dozen times she would sit fully clothed. But I gave her a sticker anyway each time.

Then I started telling her that if she wanted to keep getting stickers, she'd have to take her diaper off. And then I reminded her about how her friend Luke at school liked using the potty so much that he would take off his pants and diaper all by himself and run around the class while the teacher chased him. She remembered and giggled and thought it was funny. and then she let me pull down her trousers, take off her diaper, and she sat down on the potty and waited.

I handed her a couple of books and we read through them a couple of times each, and she sat there and interacted, etc. But no pee-pee or anything else (I wasn't expecting any; her diaper, which had been changed not 15 minutes before, was wet so I knew she wasn't going to need to go again so soon). Finally after the 2nd reading of the 2nd book, she declared "Bobbin all done", I gave her a big hug and kiss and told her how proud I was of her for trying, we got a new diaper (she rejected the pullups I offered her) and did up her pants and washed our hands and she stuck her smiley-face sticker right in the middle of her chart with a proud grin on her face.

"Bobbin do again?" she asked then, and I told her she could do it as often as she wanted and I'd give her a sticker each time. But then ginger ran down the hall, and Bobbin's mind was instantly elsewhere - namely chasing "kitty" around the house.

A bit later we decided to head to the store to see if we could find a toddler-sized pillow for resting her head on in her crib when sleeping (separate story and blog entry) and while there, I took her down the toddler underwear aisle, and asked her if, now that she's a "big girl" who knows how to sit on the potty properly and is trying to put her pee-pees and poo-poos in it, if she wanted to get some new big-girl underpants too. I didn't need to ask twice. She saw the dora and my little pony underpants, and before I could take 3 steps there were about 14 3-packs of underwear in our shopping cart. "boy" underpants and "girl" underpants alike, ranging in sizes from 2T (her correct size) to 6x (waaaay too big ;-)). I helped her sort through all of the underpants she had picked out, picking out the correct sizes and helping her put the rest back. We ended up keeping the 2T "boys" elmo briefs in the cart for lack of any "girl" elmo underpants (out of stock) but at age 2, what the heck is the difference between boy pants and girl pants apart from the traditional "blue" vs "pink" colour schemes, anyway? And the boy pants were pretty cool - with elmo playing soccer and football and baseball... all things Bobbin loves to do too ;-)

We then headed over to some friends' for the evening and so never did hit up the potty again tonight. But we'll see what happens tomorrow.

At any rate, we've definitely started down the yellow brick road... hopefully there's no turning back from here ;-)

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Random Acts of Bobbin

It was a pretty full agenda this past weekend, for a family of 3 homebodies that didn't put more than 5 miles on the odometer all told.

It started Friday evening with some serious berry picking and eating:

On saturday, after having watered all of the plants, furniture and toys within reach with her spray bottle she opted to wash my car:

After getting everything below 3 feet nice and wet and smeared, she decided to turn the spray bottle on herself and had a little bit of fun soaking her face and hair. Spray... giggle... spray.... GIGGLE.... spray... SHRIEK.... spray... GUFFAW

That was fun for a while. But then we were feeling artistic so we got out the paints, glitter glue, and stickers and proceeded to "do art" as Bobbin likes to call it. She turned out quite some beautiful masterpieces, which now hold an honoured place on our fridge

A bit later in the day, Bobbin turned stylist and fashioned herself a retro 'do

In preparation for an outing to the South 47 to feed the goats:

After washing up, we took a stroll through the patchwork of personal gardens, and saw beans, peas, pumpkins, zucchinis, tomatoes, corn all growing, and a rainbow of flowers! Bobbin loved looking at all the veggies; usually she only gets to see them in bins in the produce section of the market or grocery store :-)

The next day started off with more art projects:

And was followed by a 3 hour visit to the "animal park" where we picnicked, and visited the animals, played hide-n-seek and beachball soccer, picked blackberries, and climbed trees.

Then later in the afternoon Grandma Margaret came for a visit, we picked and ate even more blackberries, and made ourselves a little cobbler:

Many many many more pictures here for your enjoyment :-)

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Toddlers In Space

I have to keep reminding myself that she's just 2. This was a conversation earlier this evening:

Bobbin (entering the TV room and pointing at the tv): What's dat?
Me: That's the space shuttle. It launched earlier today
Tim: yesterday
Me: Earlier yesterday and now it's in space.
Bobbin: With astronauts inside it.
Me: Why... yes. There are astronauts inside it.

We have at least one of these exchanges a day. Not about astronauts and space shuttles each time, but about equally obscure (at least in a toddler's world) things that ultimately end with Tim and I looking at each other and whispering "How the hell did she know that?". Not only does she know these things; she articulates them so thoroughly and correctly. When did this happen? When did our baby become a little girl spewing grammatically correct sentences that include subjects such as astronauts, space shuttles, elevators and escalators, and detailed memories of long past events, peoples, places, and things?

Must. Not. Blink.

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Mystery of the Disappearing Cupcake - SOLVED

On Friday when I went to pick Bobbin up at school, I asked her the usual "How was your day? What did you do at school today?"

I was expecting the usual rattling off of names of people who had used the potty, and a summary of some colouring, singing or book reading activity. Instead what I got was

"Bobbin have cupcake. No eat it".

Ah... right... we brought cupcakes to school to celebrate Bobbin's birthday. "That's right! Cupcakes! Did you and your friends eat your cupcakes at lunch?" I asked.

"Miss Books took away. Took away Bobbin's cupcake. Bobbin no eat it" was her reply. Her eyes and mouth had a glum expression as she relayed to me the sad tale of how her teacher Miss Brooks had taken away her cupcake so she couldn't eat it.

"Miss Brooks took your cupcake away? Why did she do that?" I asked. Miss Brooks would have had a reason... even if Bobbin didn't know what it was. But it didn't hurt to ask.

"Bobbin no eat it. Miss Books took away. Not nice take away not belong to you".

"That's true, it's not nice to take something away from someone, and it's not nice to take something that doesn't belong to you without asking permission".

"Miss books took away no ask pumission".

So I resolved to follow up this morning when I dropped Bobbin off at school, and went about asking about the rest of her day which involved lots of climbing, running, and singing.

This morning when I repeated the conversation to Miss Brooks she smiled, and looked somewhat stunned. And then explained to me that indeed she had passed out all the cupcakes for their afternoon snack and Bobbin had tasted some of the icing and then just sat there staring at hers, not touching it. When they were ready to go playing outside, Miss Brooks suggested they leave her cupcake inside for later but Bobbin insisted on bringing it outside. So they brought it outside where Bobbin proceeded to set it on the rocking horse and watch it there, without eating it. So when they came back inside, Miss Brooks told Bobbin she was going to put the cupcake somewhere safe where it wouldn't get smooshed, and she could eat it later. And I guess it was all but forgotten until I showed up :-)

That solves that. I do think there was an element of amazement on the teacher's part that Bobbin had managed to convey all of this to me. She's got quite an impressive vocabulary, and an even more impressive memory. So while I do still find it amazing, it doesn't surprise neither Tim nor I anymore :-)

And it definitely keeps the teachers on their toes too, which is always a good thing :-) There'll be no slacking for any of Bobbin's caregivers or teachers now, or in the future I'm sure. That's our girl ;-)

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More fun with cousins!

Today we visited Bobbin's Grandma and Grandpa and her cousin Shaun. Much fun was had by the two cousins :-)

Bobbin always loves going to Grandma's house. More photos here from today, which started with opening yet more birthday presents :-)

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Bobbin Turns 2!!

Yesterday was Bobbin's 2nd birthday and we celebrated with present opening in the morning followed by a big party in the afternoon with lots of friends, hotdogs, watermelon, and, of course, happy cake!

The year has flown by, and I'm not going to even attempt to summarize the difference between last year and this year - there are way too many!

Bobbin had a blast, interacted with everyone including folks she hadn't seen for a while, played with her friends without a need for my constant presence, and even made it through the Happy Birthday song with a smile on her face (she'd been singing it to herself all day long :-)) and through the whole party, which ended close to 9pm, in jovial spirits.

Here are some photos from my camera. Tim has more on his, and I'll post those soon as well :-)

Thank you to all of our friends and family for making her 2nd birthday and the last 2 years in general full of fun and happy memories!

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Mei

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Slugger

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Random updates

The lip is no longer fat. Swelling has gone down. She has a tiny cut that is healing nicely and not causing her any trouble. She doesn't fuss when I brush her teeth and in doing so I've managed to confirm visually and with my finger that she still has all her teeth, they are all still firmly planted in her gums, and her tongue is not missing any chunks. All's well that ends well! Every time we drive past the flower garden store where she fell (which is every morning on the way to school, and every afternoon on the way home from school) she points it out and says "Flower gahden. Bobbin fall down. Bobbin bump mouf. Bobbin huet self. Make kie". It's a story now, that she can tell :-)

As we were leaving school yesterday, Miss M handed Bobbin a cup of her favourite cheese crackers (the square ones; they have to be square. It's not enough that they taste the same) and folded her daily report up into an airplane and flew it across the air to her to catch. Bobbin giggled. As we were leaving the room, she reached up and grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes and said "Miss M good teacher". So it would appear that problem is solved too.

Her daily report yesterday said "almost sat on the potty". So looks like we're heading into some more exciting times in the near future. We'll see :-)

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Fat lip

This afternoon, after I napped for about an hour (and Bobbin napped for precisely none), Bobbin and I headed out to run some errands. On the way back, I stopped at the local garden store down the street from us to scope out plants and shrubs for our little patch in front of the deck.

It's a beautiful lot, with lots of meandering pathways and water falls and even a play area for children, and... oh... wait... did I say play area?

Yup. Bobbin discovered it first. Teeter totter, porch swings, and a beautiful, huge, wooden climbing structure.

She went up it with ease, and lolled about at the top, sitting in the tiny little adirondak-style chair that was just her size. She was having a blast enjoying the view, kicking back in her chair, and listening to the patter of the raindrops on the wooden roof above her.

When it started to rain a little heavier I decided it was time for us to go. After the usual "I'm counting to 3 and then I'm going to pick you up" routine, Bobbin decided to descend the structure of her own accord. She managed the first two large steps rather easily but on the third she misjudged the distance down, and let go with her hands before her foot was solidly on the bottom step, and ended up careening off the platform into my arms, but not before she bumped her mouth on one of the protruding wooden beams.

Blood erupted from her mouth as she buried her head in my neck. It was everywhere. All over her face, her hands, my shirt, my face, my neck. And it seemed as though it wasn't going to stop. I was absolutely terrified. Had she knocked her teeth out? Did she bite off her tongue? Did she have an even more serious injury? But I managed to maintain composure, wrapped my arms around her and held her close, whispered in her ear that Mommy was going to make it better, and, kissing her cheek repeatedly, went to the main office hut to find some clean water and paper towels.

By the time I got to the little cabin that served as the checkout/cashier desk, Bobbin had stopped crying, but she was bloody and tear-soaked, red stripes of blood smeared across her cheeks as she tried to wipe her face clean, criss-crossed by trails of dried tears.

To the cashier's credit she didn't even do a double-take (I was afraid any exclamation or display of any emotion other than serene calm would set Bobbin off on a fresh round of panicked tears) and led me calmly back to the bathroom, stopping on the way to get me a couple of cups full of filtered water from their water cooler and warning me not to use the tap-water; if I needed more filtered water I could just call out.

I wiped down her face and hands and found to my relief that there was no new flow of blood. Once she was clean I was able to see the little tiny cut on her bottom lip, that incidentally was now the size of a cherry and almost just as red, that had been the source of the blood that had been spewing forth in copious quantities only minutes before. I tried to get Bobbin to hold the cold wet towel to her lip but she was having none of that, and my attempts only aggrevated her, so I settled with just getting her clean and glimpsing briefly in her mouth to ensure she still had a tongue and teeth, and then we drove home.

I called ahead to Tim for a bottle of milk to be ready in the fridge, and some wet facecloths to be placed in the freezer, and he was there at the door to greet us when we pulled in.

By this time Bobbin was calm, her lip was humungous, and I was all but ready to collapse with relief that it didn't appear we'd need to take a trip to the ER.

We administered some infant motrin for the swelling, and she downed an entire bottle of milk.

After that, apart from the rather large perma-pout, you'd never known she had been through any kind of trauma at all. She was playing and smiling (which looked a little goofy with the fat lip :-)) and all was back to normal.

By the end of the evening much of the swelling had gone down, and she was happily tucked into bed by 8pm.

It's been a while since we had any kind of injury involving blood... I guess we were due. Just glad it wasn't more serious. It definitely could have been. And with that said, I think I'll go pour myself another glass of wine.

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Sing along with Bobbin

(click images to view video)

Before each major performance, Bobbin always sits down and does a little reading and reflecting to her self. It helps settle her mind before taking the stage.

And now available for the first time on video, Bobbin performs "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" in front of a live studio audience.

Her second song will be that old classic, "Happy Birthday to You"

And she'll follow that up with "The Wheels on the Bus", with a little audience participation.

Finally, her encore is an original piece called "Spin".

Thank you everyone. You've been a wonderful audience. Thank you. I love you all. Kiss kiss.

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Nothing like a rousing game of indoor beachball-

soccer-volleyball-keepaway-tag endorsed and encouraged by Mom and Dad to get your toddler's heart pumping.

Yes, I know we're going to regret this.

I know.

More photos here. Of course.

And yes, we do have boundaries. Just moments after our 30-minute all-out tackle-beach-volley-soccer-tag-n-seek game ended, Bobbin decided she wanted to jump on the couch. We told her that's just way too dangerous and not allowed. She gets it. She stopped.

Hey... as long as she understands and follows the rules, it doesn't matter that you're still confused ;-P

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Getting ready for the major leagues

Bobbin's perfected her two-handed swing and hit a homer on the deck yesterday. Looks like all those pointers from Grandpa paid off!

(click image to view video - it may take a minute to load; I haven't optimized the settings on my camera for video yet :-))

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Let's go fly a kite, up to its highest heights!

Yay... I have my camera battery back! :-)

Yesterday we headed out to Gasworks Park, making a quick stop at the Kite Shop across the street first. Bobbin had a blast watching Tim and eventually flying her kite all by herself!

The kite flying was followed up by a Kidd Valley milkshake on the way home,

and then later in the evening we went across the street to some friends' for a bbq where Bobbin ran and played with the other kids (all at least a year older) with very little thought to either Tim or I... much to our delight!

More photos here of our entire day!

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A Bobbin says wha?

Several weeks ago Tim was standing on the back steps throwing apples to the deer as
Bobbin and I looked on. Bobbin wanted more apples, so we headed back into the kitchen to get some and when we came down the steps, Tim was walking towards the deer with an apple in his outstretched hand, trying to get closer as the deer watched him nervously, ears and tail stwitching and bodies tensed and ready to flee. "Uh oh... I hope daddy doesn't ruin it!" I muttered to myself under my breath. But apparently still loud enough for Bobbin to hear. When we opened the door the deer jumped and Bobbin yelled out "No Daddy! No ruin it!" in her loudest and most commanding voice. And of course, the deer fled. "Daddy ruined it" she said glumly, as Tim made his way back to the steps. "Daddy, no ruin it. Daddy, SIT DOWN. No more ruin it". Tim shot me a glare. What?

Well last night, the deer made what has become their regular evening appearance. And Tim was down on the steps again, tossing apples out to the deer. Bobbin and I approached from the swing set, where we had been enjoying the summer evening. As we approached the deck, Bobbin called out "Daddy, no ruin it, ok?". Elephants never forget. And apparently neither do toddlers.

In the car on the way home from school I asked her what she did today.. "Mah-ee-na weed book" was her reply. "Miss Marina read a book? That sounds fun. What else did you do?". "Got owie" was the reply. "You got an owie? How'd that happen?" I asked. "Fah down at school, heut sef. Mommy, kiss betteh? Mommy, bandaid, pease?" But by the time we got home, the owie had mysteriously disappeared. "Wheh owie go? Masig! All gone!"

Bobbin's developed a new fascination with "Magic". Or "Masig" as she calls it. The sliding doors at the grocery store are Masig because they open and close all by themselves. Mary Poppins is full of Masig, what with the nursery tidying itself up, and the children jumping in and out of chalk drawings, and nannies being blown away by the wind, and umbrellas that let you fly, and contagious laughter that makes you float up to the ceiling. Bobbin even has her very own Masig wand, just like Glinda's in the Dorothy Show (aka "Wizard of Oz"). Tonight Bobbin decided she was going to make her meatballs disappear. She'd hold it in the palm of her hand, and then she'd count "One Two Tsee" and then she'd slam it into her mouth as fast as she could, and then open her hands to show they were empty and with her eyes wide, she'd shake her head and mumble "Where'd it go" with a mouth full of meatball (so it sounded more like "meh ih moh?") with little chunks of meatball spewing forth from her lips as she spoke.

Out on the slide this evening after dinner, Bobbin and I were taking turns. She'd go first and then I'd follow. But not before a stern warning "Mommy, be keh-ful, hode tite, no heut sef, ok?" with her little finger wagging up and down in admonishment. I'm thinking the mysterious disappearing owie from earlier might have happened on the school slide. My sweet little Bobbin. Always looking out for me :-)

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Some imagination...

The round chessboard started out as a birthday cake for Grover in an outdoor "picnic" on our deck. But no sooner had grover blown out the candles, than it morphed into a pizza with a triumphant exclamation "Mommy! Grover! Pizza guy here! Pizza ready! Go eat!" Cake is done. We've apparently moved on to pizza.

"Pizza Guy" arrives at least 3 more times, and my tummy was very pretend-full of pretend-pizza, and I couldn't possibly pretend-eat another pretend-bite. But just as I was about to collapse into a pretend-pizza-induced-pretend-coma, Bobbin set about arranging her little toddler-sized lawn chairs up side by side and facing the garden, and informed me I was to "sit down, Mommy. Sit down in seats. Watch baseball game". Apparently we were at the baseball stadium. But it didn't stop there. No. I actually got a play-by-play. Bobbin pointed out to the clump of dahlias and said "Pitcher throw ball". I watched in anticipation, literally on the edge of my seat (I don't really fit in them; they are definitely made for toddler bums). "Batter hit ball". Ooooh... this was going to be a close one. "Up! Up! Up! Up!" there it goes... will it make it? "Home Run, mommy! Everybody clapping!" What a hit! But wait... what's this? Something strange is happening on the field. "Pitcher runnin' now", comes the commentary. The pitcher is running? Must be a rookie. Doesn't he know it's the batter who's supposed to run the bases? "Score, mommy! Everybody clapping!" Weird. They must have changed the rules when I wasn't looking. Ah well, it was a great game. Complete with hot-gog and mustard and ketchup. Yummm.

Next came some pretend fun with her new tent, purchased at Target for $20, bright primary-coloured flaps on all sides, with the intent of bringing it with us to gasworks park tomorrow for 4th of July festivities. I had barely managed to get the tent together and she was in it like a flash, lifting the flaps, moving it around on the deck, and dragging her two little lawn chairs, my camera, the kitchen cordless phone, and the cooler-bag in with her. It looked like a toddler-sized frat house. The girl knows how to make herself comfortable. Once she got it all arranged, we watched more baseball, this time from inside the luxurious comfort of our box seats. This time the asian lilies were the pitcher and I think the batter was the recycle bin. A couple of "phone calls" were made to Daddy to tell him about the ball game, and then we were off and running to our next pretend adventure which involved Bobbin as Glinda, the Good witch of the North, and a $.02 styrofoam blue be-sparkled star sitting atop a long wooden stick the diameter of a toothpick. It came with a bunch of red, white and blue flowers I had bought at QFC over the weekend. It makes a perfect "Masig Wand". Bobbin likes to tap me on the head with it and turn me into different animals. First I was a frog. Then a kitty. Then a cow. Then a puppy. Then a chicken. Then a sheep. Then a duck. And back to Mommy.

After all that pretend play, I need a not-so-pretend nap to recover from it all :-)

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Transitions

Dear Parents,

Congratulations, your child has reached an important milestone at this school and is ready to move to our Toddler 2 room.

Sigh... she's almost 2! It's all going by so quickly...!

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Apparently there is no lower age limit to learning how to start milking it.

Saturday afternoon Bobbin came down with a sudden case of the stomach bug. She barely ate anything solid all day but she was happy and playing as usual so figured she was still just adjusting to the time zone. Around 2pm I gave her a snack of cheese and crackers which she happily consumed, and around 3pm it all came back up, and then some. And then again. And then again. And then again. And then again. 5 changes of clothes for her, and 5 for me, and 4 loads of blankets and towels to wash in total. She may still be little, but man that little tummy can hold a whole LOT of stuff. But enough of that.

After the first time I was able to recognize the signs that she was about to vomit. The distress in her face, the whimpering and writhing on my knee and the cries of "no no no more tummy sick". "Tummy sick" was a phrase she picked up after the first vomiting episode. She knows precisely what it meant. When she'd finish throwing up she'd look up at me with watery, pleading, eyes and ask "Mommy? Tummy sick all done? All done?" as if I would be able to say for sure. After the last time though all that was coming up was clear stomach fluid so I felt fairly confident in replying "Yes, I think so honey. I think your tummy sick is all done".

Of course that prompted immediate requests for a bottle, but when I explained with her newfound vocabulary that we needed to "give your tummy a rest from milk so you don't get tummy sick again" she complied and was happy to take sips of pedialyte from an medicine dropper for the next hour.

The newfound undrestanding and ability to communicate "tummy sick" has, however, had an interesting side effect. Bobbin has discovered that the pleading eyes and distressed look accompanied by weak moans of "tummy sick" results in Mommy and Daddy looking at her with very concerned faces, and also results on occasion in Mommy and Daddy letting her get her way. So now we have to be wary of the girl who cried tummy sick.

On several occasions yesterday and today she's used "Mommy? Tummy sick" (complete with appropriate facial expression and vague hand gesture towards tummy) to try and get her way ("No, honey... it's Daddy's turn to pick the TV show".... "Daddy's turn? Ok. Oh... Mommy? Tummy sick... ooooooh... Mommy? Sit down in big chair and watch Dorothy Show? Tummy sick...."). Creative. And cute. But something we're trying to nip in the bud. So my response has been "Is your tummy really sick honey? Or just pretend sick? We can play pretend sick if you want to. Do you want mommy to give you a pretend checkup, or do you want to give mommy a pretend checkup?"... yeah, I'll let you know how that goes :-)

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There's no place like home

Got home safe and sound last night. Arrived on our doorstep around 9:30pm. Bobbin spent the first hour wandering the house exclaiming "Oh goodness!" as she rediscovered every toy and book and animal that she had left during our 3 week vacation. She was overjoyed to see Tommy and insisted he follow her from room to room, saying "Kem eeere" in her little Bobbin voice, as she half-crouched and bekoned with both hands. It was adorable. When she discovered her bedroom completely intact there was a louder shout of "Oh my!" and a mad stampede back to the kitchen, with insistence that "Mommy! Daddy! Kem eeere! Kem see bedroom!" as she dragged us both back to her room to show us how everything was right where she had left it.

She was so excited and happy to be home. "Our home. We're home" was her mantra. She repeated it over and over again in a voice filled with wonder. I'm pretty sure she was convinced that home was a thing of the past, never to be seen again. 3 weeks is a very long time, especially by toddler standards.

But that still didn't prevent her from asking this morning "Mommy? Go grama and grampa's house? Go airplane again? Go have bottle in big chair and feed geese?" Sigh. If only they were so close that I could oblige. But I promised her we'd call them on Saturday to make sure they were ok, and to make sure they were feeding the geese and ducks and taking care of Suzie (their dog :-)).

And then we went happily and excitedly off to school.

At 7:30am.

Because, did I mention, she's still on Simcoe time and woke up at 5:30 bright eyed and bushy tailed (and still in awe that we were actually home!) so we got off to a bit of an early start.

As she was watching the "Dorothy Show" this morning (She likes me to start it at the "Emerald City Part", I actually saw a glimmer of recognition and empathy in her eyes as she watched Dorothy click her ruby heels together 3 times and say those magic words. She knows first hand now, what they actually mean.

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Fun with Friends and Cousins

another busy weekend for our little social butterfly. Friday night we went to Miss E's and had a lot of fun playing dominos and other games:

On Saturday, we lounged around in our PJs all morning and goofed off in the living room

and then cousin B came over for lunch and to play outside

and then on Sunday we went shopping for new running shoes and sandals

Tonnes more pictures of our busy weekend, including several of cute Cousin B. Check them out!

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Dossy Sow, as told by Bobbin

We have a new favourite "CD" in the house. The story should be a familiar one to all of you: here's how Bobbin tells it:

Dossy sinin Weenbow son.
Weenbow in sky. Lullaby. Up high.
Dossy and puppy run away.
Dossy kye-ing. Sad.
Toneno ah-side in sky up up up up
CASH!
Dossy and puppy go ah-side
Dossy and puppy and lion go Emald Cidy
Dossy and Lion hair cut
Dossy and puppy go towah. Not ok.

Still not sure? Here's the translation key:

Dossy = Dorothy
Sow = Show
Sinin = singing
Son = song
Weenbow = Rainbow
Kye-ing = crying
Toneno = Tornedo
ah-side = outside
Cash = crash
Emald Cidy = Emerald City
towah = tower

In the evenings now, Bobbin likes to play-act the "Dossy Sow". In particular the part about Dorothy and the Lion going to the Emerald City to get haircuts. The mat in front of her closet is the Emerald City. The Lion is usually played by Millie Moo. Bobbin, of course, is Dorothy. Me, I get relegated to the "wockin' cheh" to observe and "no touch". Unless Bobbin decides she needs some "hep", in which case I'm allowed to leave my designated spot on the rocking chair to get down on the floor and assist with the task in question.

She's come up with this whole pretend game herself. I had nothing to do with it, other than to buy her the DVD that planted the seed. It's become one of Bobbin's favourite games, surpassing the tea party, which was previously her favourite. And the "CD" itself has even replaced "Elmo" in Bobbin's "most frequently requested DVDs" list.

Of course, the all-time favourite game is still pretending to change Millie Moo's diaper. And she's very thorough with that one. To the point where I actually went out and spent 10 bucks on a little plastic garbage can with a step pedal lid so she could dispose of Millie's "dirty" diapers in it instead of the real diaper pail where she had been stuffing them, thus allowing me to retrieve them when she's not looking and use them on her own bottom. It's saved us a small fortune in diaper money. The alternate route, giving her a stack of play diapers specially for millie moo, just never panned out. They're not as much fun if they've been "used". Ok, yeah, the other alternative would have been to tell her "no" when she starts trying to toss them, or not allow her to play with them at all. But where's the fun in that?

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Fun in the Sun

The last few days have been beautiful, warm and sunny. So we've been spending lots of time outside

blowing bubbles:

chasing bubbles:

playing baseball:

strolling the property

and floating our boat

My new camera is working out GREAT! I can take action shots and she's no longer a blur! It responds immediately when I press the button so I don't miss out on the moment. I love the image stabilization feature too. Can't wait to try it out even more in Canada when we go up for my sister's wedding!

Here's more random pictures of the last couple of days.

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Mommy's Day Weekend and Grandma's Magic Garden

A fun filled weekend marked my 2nd Mommy's Day. Saturday started off with 2 belgian draft horses coming over to haul our cedar logs:

and ended with a BBQ at Jeni & Roger & Baby L's house, where Bobbin spent the afternoon in their back yard playing hide and seek with another little girl her age (just under a month older) and eating burgers while Mommy liesurely sipped wine on the deck and even occasionally went into the house to get munchies alone without Bobbin even batting an eyelash. Progress!

On Mommy's Day proper, I slept in until 7:30am (it sounds luxurious but it's actually a double-edged sword; she didn't go to sleep until 9:30 the night before), had a lovely breakfast with Tim and Bobbin, and then we headed over to Grandma's house for a visit. Grandma & Grandpa have visited here frequently, but this was Bobbin's first trip to Grandma's house, and she was absolutely enthralled.

First, Grandma has these really great bug-shaped cookies that were so nummy. And she has a whole pile of toys to play with. But the best part of all was Grandma's back yard!

Bobbin thought it was magical. She was enchanted from the moment she stepped out of the back door. There's a little pond with goldfish in it, and a tiny waterfall, and a little fish fountain spouting water. And there are flowers and plants everywhere - in the ground and in pots and planters, on the deck, and everywhere. And there's soft green grass to play on, and fun stepping stones to jump on. And there are little treasures hidden throughout that Bobbin delighted in finding - little statue of a kitty with a butterfly on his nose, and two little foxes, and bunnies, and mushrooms with fairies, and beautiful butterflies with metalic wings, and a snail with sparkly antennae, and a tiny bobbin-sized park bench for sitting on and soaking it all in. And there was even a pirate ship to play in! Bobbin didn't want to leave. It started sprinkling and getting chilly but she didn't care. It was past lunch time, but she didn't care. She was starting to get tired, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to "Go outside, Grandma's house?" Even we got home, "Grandma's house outside" was all she talked about. Grandma, hope you're ok with more frequent visits from us ;-)

After Grandma's house we went to Ruby's for lunch. Bobbin was way hungry and we narrowly avoided a hunger-related meltdown.

After lunch she fell asleep in the car ride home, and I thought for a moment I'd be able to pop her into her crib without her waking up when we arrived, but that was not to be. She was awake, tired, but having nothing to do with a nap. That didn't stop me from taking one though, while Tim gallantly tried to distract her for a couple of hours :-) Afterwards, we played outside and then came in for dinner. By that time she was thoroughly exhausted, and fell asleep in my arms at the dinner table not 2 minutes after we had sat down.

I put her in her crib and she slept for about an hour, woke up raring to go, and we finally got her back to bed at 10pm. She fought sleep with every fiber of her being. I'm pretty sure she was mostly concerned about missing out. She didn't start to relax until after I had gone through the names of every person and animal she knows, one by one, telling her they had gone to sleep.

All in all though, an absolutely beautiful mother's day. And to top it off, here are more photos from this weekend, which incidentally were taken with my brand new camera - my mommy's day gift!

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Welcome to the toddler twilight zone...

...is what I heard my mind telling myself, as I stood over the hot stove at 8:30pm cooking my daughter her third hot dog of the evening.

She had devoured the first hot dog and a half during dinner 2 hours earlier along with a sizeable portion of watermelon. No one can ever accuse Bobbin of not embracing her american heritage with staples like that in her diet.

It actually started earlier in the day when I picked her up from school. As we were walking out the door, I asked her "What should we have for dinner tonight?" giving her the luxury of choice, since it was just the two of us as Tim is working a show tonight. "Meatballs and pasta!" was her cheerful reply. And so it was settled. Or so I thought.

When we arrived at the intersection where our local PCC grocery store resides, Bobbin decided she wanted hot dogs instead. We didn't have any hot dogs at home, so I made a quick turn into the "apple store", as she still refers to it, and we did a bit of shopping. Bobbin made straight for the miniature toddler-sized grocery carts and immediately steered it over to the fruit section. "Apples", she pointed, and stopped her cart in front of the organic fuji's, waiting expectantly. I popped 3 apples into a plastic bag and dropped them into her cart. We were out of apples at home.

"Hotdogs?" she asked, looking up at me. "Over there, honey" I replied and pointed in the general direction. And she was off, pushing the cart with purpose towards the deli section. Which was directly on the other side of the wine section. I helped a bit with the steering to keep her on course. We arrived at the hotdogs and I handed her a package. "Hotdogs!" she exclaimed and tossed them into the cart, and moved onto her next target.

"Apple juice!" she shouted excitedly, grabbing at the refrigerator door. I opened the door and took out a quart of Odwalla apple juice. She took it from my hands and with an exaggerated grunt, held it in front of her between her legs, waddled over to the cart, and heaved it inside. And then continued with her spree.

"Yogurt, mommy. School". She has plenty of yogurt at school, but we could do with more at home so I let her pick out some yogurt and she put it in the cart. Time for me to take over, if we were ever going to get out of here without a trunkload of groceries. Plus, the diaper aisle was directly in front of us, and I had to keep her out of there at all costs; she has a thing for new packages of diapers. We're already swimming in diapers at home.

"We need hotdog buns and salads, honey" I said as I gently pointed her cart over to the bakery aisle. "Lets go look for buns". "Buns." Bobbin replied agreeably, and pushed her cart over to the breads. I had to help a little as by this point it was a little heavy and unwieldy. You'd be amazed at the volume those little toddler carts can hold.

We selected some buns and then made for the salad bar. While I was waiting for my potato salad to be scooped into a container, Bobbin became occupied with the potato chip display. A couple of small bags of organic chips found there way into the shopping cart.

"Ok, let's go pay" I said. "Go pay!" she responded, and started pushing her little cart over to the cashier. She knows her way around a grocery store, she does.

I started to unload the cart, and Bobbin grabbed my hand and looked me in the eye and said "Mommy, no. No no. Go der" and motioned for me to step back. I looked around and didn't see anyone behind us or approaching the checkout so I humoured her, and stood back and watched amused as she took each item out of her little cart one by one, and placed them up on the conveyer belt. She had to stand on her tiptoes just to reach the belt, and even then it was a blind maneuver and a bit of a toss up over the little ledge and onto the moving belt. I made sure nothing was dropped. The cashier was just as amused as me. But neither of us did dare laugh. Grocery cart unloading is very serious business.

I took out my wallet and prepared to pay. "Mommy, wallet" Bobbin said, reaching up. I removed my debit card and drivers license, closed it back up, and handed it to her. "That's very important, Bobbin" I said. "Please take care of it and keep it closed so nothing falls out". She clutched it to her chest and then opened it and immediately started removing cards one by one and handing them to me. I stuffed them in my pocket.

Bags in hand, I told Bobbin it was time to go to the car. "Mommy no! Mommy, in cart" she protested. I put the bags in the cart, amazed that they even fit. Bobbin started pushing the cart towards the door.

I tried to get her to park her cart at the door but she wanted to push it all the way out to the car just like mommy does. So I stood beside her and sheltered her across the stretch of parking lot to our car. When we got there, I opened the trunk and Bobbin started pulling at the bags in the cart. "Let me help you sweetie. They're heavy" I said, and picked up the bags one by one by their handles. Bobbin held the bottoms as I placed them in the trunk.

I closed the trunk door, and saw her start to turn the cart around to head back to the store. Points for taking the cart back, just like Mommy does, but she's supposed to hold my hand at all times in the parking lot. I swiftly grabbed her hand before she could actually move, reminded her of our rule, and headed back to the store with her and her little crt.

"Good job, Bobbin! You did all the grocery shopping all by yourself, and even brought the cart back. I'm so proud of you!" and we held hands all the way back to the car.

We got home, and Bobbin insisted on sitting in her booster chair while I started dinner. "Hotdogs? Hotdogs" she asked every 30 seconds. Thank goodness they only take about 5 minutes to cook. I served her an appetizer of watermelon and then brought out the dogs.

She consumed a hotdog and a half, quite a lot of watermelon, and then announced she was "all done". We got down, and she decided she wanted a bottle.

8 ounces and 2 rounds of Elmo Potty show later, it was about 8pm and time to start winding down. We switched from TV to books, and read through several when Bobbin decided she wanted another bottle. I convinced her to get her jammies on first, and then we came back out to the living room.

As I was tidying up in the TV room, getting ready for her bottle I popped my head up over the bookcase to see what she was up to in the dining room and that's when I caught her little hand reach up to the table and grab a remnant of hotdog, 2 hours old by now, from her plate and pop it in her mouth.

"Honey, are you still hungry? do you want to come have your bottle" I asked. The same bottle she had been pleading for just before getting her jammies on. "No" was her response. "More hotdog?"

I tried to content her with watermelon, but after each piece of watermelon she shoved into her tiny mouth, she would inquire again "more hotdog?" and that's when I found myself standing over the stove, cooking a hotdog at 8:30pm. Welcome to the toddler twilight zone.

It didn't end there. She consumed the ENTIRE hotdog, and more watermelon. And then settled into my lap and downed 6 oz of milk from her bottle. She was tired at this point, but was having nothing to do with going to bed.

Not having the energy for a repeat of last night (she got herself worked up into a major meltdown at bedtime last night; didn't go to sleep until 10pm) I insisted on at least brushing her teeth, and then once that was out of the way decided to wait it out a bit longer before trying again to get her to go to bed. We quietly read several more books, and watched some "bedtime" programming on the baby channel. Finally, at 9:40 against her much weaker protests, I got her into her bedroom, put on her nite-nite music, gave her the last two ounces of her bottle, and rocked her in the chair for about 5 minutes. She was out like a light, snoring.

She's been on this weird binky self-weaning kick too. It'd be one thing if she just stopped asking for it altogether, but she'll demand her binky, and then as soon as you give it to her she'll push it away and insist "no binky". She'll work herself into quite a state this way too, like she's really torn. But the end result is that last night and tonight she fell asleep binkiless, which is quite a new thing. We're encouraging it and its entirely her choice, but that hasn't made it any easier on any of us.

And if all of that weren't enough, she's got something going on with her mouth. I think she might have a sore on her tongue, but I'm concerned it could be a tooth problem. I'm kinda waiting it out over the weekend and if she's still telling me about the owie in her mouth on Monday and acting like it's sore I'll take her in to see the doctor. Should could also be getting a new tooth I suppose, but I thought she had them all already. I hope it's her tongue or a new tooth. I hope she doesn't have a cavity.

Always interesting and fun times around the household though! She's our sunshine and at the end of the day, she keeps us in stitches (even while we're left scratching our heads in wonder half the time :-))

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Little miss bossypants

Now that she can communicate, Bobbin's taking her newfound talents to a whole new level. Today after school went mostly like this:

"Sssssss. Mommy. Be quiet. Ssssss. Sissper, mommy. Sissper"

"Mommy, NO. No no no, mommy. no"

"Mommy, sit down in rocking chair. Mommy, right now, mommy. Mommy, sit"

"Mommy, coming? Mommy, wheh ah you? Mommy coming right now, mommy. Right now"

"Good girl mommy"

"Mommy, go in der. In der mommy, right now. Go in der mommy, now."

"No mommy. No jammies. No bath. Watch show. No no no, mommy"

"No bed mommy. No no no. No go to bed"

On that last one I scooped her up in my arms and said "Yes yes yes. Yes bath. Yes jammies. Yes bed. Yes yes yes. Mommy makes the rules. Bobbin follows the rules" to which she replied "Sallow rules. Chair. No standing. Hitting, not nice. NOT nice". Apparently she knows what our rules are. Following them... now that's a different story!

I'll give her credit: there were no shouting, screaming or crying matches. Just a lot of very matter-of-factly-toned "no"s and commands. Like there really wasn't anything to discuss. I know that tone, because I use it myself. And lucky for me, it still works ;-)

The day is coming though.... oh, please please PLEASE don't let her be anything like I was from about ages 12-20 ! :-)

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Friends

Bobbin and I went over to play with Debra & Miss E on Saturday and had a blast! Here's a few photos Debra took:

"Planting" flowers in the back yard:

Proud little planter showing off her prize pansy:

Examining a potato bug:

Say cheese!

Thank you Debra & Miss E! We had a lot of "sun"!

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Fast and furious

I haven't written in the blog for a while because the changes are happening at lightening speed. Bobbin's vocabulary is uncountable at this point. She strings together sentences, and is adding words to her vocabulary at a frenzied pace. Not just repeating what she hears, but actually using the words herself. She's a sponge.

Last night as I was rocking her to sleep I started telling her about the plane ride we were going to take and before I could finish she looked up at me and said "You, me, Daddy, airpane ride in sky. Gamma, Pappa, coming. Fly pane. See watersall. Tower". The last two are references to Niagara Falls and the CN tower, as I've explained that Grandpa is going to take us to see the Big Waterfall, and that when the plane lands in Toronto, we'll go for a ride in Grandpa's car and he'll drive by a Big Tower.

Please, Thankyou, You're Welcome are also new additions to her vocabulary and she's turning into quite a polite little girl. About 50% of the time they are unprompted, and the other 50% of the time she still requires some gentle reminders :-) She's picked it up very quickly though!

As much as I love the manners, I actually am even more pleased by her latest word acquisition: "Help". Now, most of the time, instead of grunting "Ah! Ah! Ah!" and pulling, pushing or pointing in frustration, she turns to me and says "Mommy Hep". On occasion there's a "peas" tacked onto the end, but I'm happy enough to just hear "hep" and no more "ah! ah! ah!". We'd been working on "help" for a while, subtley, and then out of the blue, one day, she just started using it. Thank you thank you thank you. You're welcome.

:-)

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Wagging, Climbing, and other Bobbin Tales

Wagging
"Wag" is Bobbin's word for "flag". I think the word is a cross between "flag" and "wave". "Hi Wag!" is how Bobbin enthusiastically greets any flag she sees waving in the breeze. The one in front of the grocery store, the one at the animal park, the one at the doctor's office, the ones at the stadium, the ones on tv. Seems a cutely appropriate substitute, doesn't it?

Climbing
We've had our play structure up since last October or November. I remember because it was how we spent a decent percentage of my yearly bonus :-). When it was first erected, Bobbin took immediately to the swings. She loved the swings. A couple of months later, she started getting enthusiastic about the slide. She loved the swings and she really loved the slide. The only problem with the slide was that she couldn't get up to the top without me holding her the entire way as she walked up the ramp. The slide is quite a bit higher than me, so my arms would get tired after a few trips of this.

Well, today marked a milestone. She climbed the ramp all by herself without any assistance from me - not even a feather touch. I had a bit of an inkling today would be the day. Yesterday she climbed up onto the picnic bench at the park all by herself. So today when we went outside to play, I stood back and watched as she tentatively reached out and stood at the base of the ramp, and then tentatively knelt down on her hands and knees, and then not very tentatively at all climbed to the very tip top of the play structure, stood up with hands above her head as if she had just landed a gymnastic vault off the balance beam, and yelled "Tah-DAH!" as she beamed with pride. It was absolutely a priceless moment. She was proud. I was proud. And my arms gave a sigh of relief of their own.

Once at the top she decided that going down via the slide was for amateurs, and turned around and proceeded to back her way down the ramp; a much more difficult maneuver than going up considering that she couldn't really see where she was putting her feet and had to rely on touch almost entirely. She did it though! And then before I could give her a hug and kiss, she was pushing me away saying "No!" and then clamouring back up the ramp.

The weather outside's delightful
She made a total of about 7 or 8 round trips up and down the ramp before giving in to muscle fatique and deciding to get pushed in the swing instead. We were outside for a consecutive 2 1/2 hours in the afternoon following her nap - climbing, swinging, playing baseball (she now has a 2-handed swing, but it's still an overhand grip ;-)), playing soccer, playing with the beachball, running around the yard, picking flowers, blowing bubbles, watching the logger cut down our trees and trim off the branches (no horses today; they're coming on Wednesday :-)) and snacking on ham and cheese picnic-style on our blanket on the grass. And that was AFTER our morning trip to the park, which itself was another hour and a half of feeding the geese and ducks bread, eating bread, swinging, running, playing soccer (the first time), watching kayaks, and climbing over the "big big bridge". And it was also BEFORE our side-trip to the Woodinville playground, after dining at Ruby's (Bobbin's favourite restaurant) where she consumed an entirehalf-foot long, 1-inch in diameter, hotdog (not the bun though) and half a bowl of apple slices. At the Woodinville park there was even more running, climbing, playing, watching, and jumping. And then it was time to go home.

So it's no wonder that just as we turned onto our street, about 3 minutes from home, she fell abruptly asleep in the back seat of the car while I was singing her the "Windmill Song" at her request, and has been tucked into bed snoring soundly since 7:00pm.

And what else?
During her afternoon nap I managed to get the entire kitchen floor swept and mopped. And right after I tucked her into bed I mopped the dining room and living room too. The floor hasn't been mopped in literally months. We were sticking to it in places. And so were the dust bunnies. I'm quite relieved to have a clean floor.

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Sarts and Sogs

Bobbin and I were sitting in the family room as we normally do after school. Bobbin had just finished her snack and was having fun playing "climb on mommy". Right in the middle of her ascent of my torso, she emitted a big, loud, "ppppffffffft" from her posterior.

"Bobbin! What was that?!" I asked, mustering the best incredulous expression I could.

"Wassat?" she replied, grin on her face. "

Yes, what was that? That... that sound. What was that sound?" I asked again.

"OH!" she replied. "Mommy sarted!" (farted).

"No! Mommy didn't fart. That wasn't me. That was YOU" I replied. She giggled.

"No. No sart. Mommy sarted! Mommy sarted" and she erupted into laughs.

That's our kid. Blaming others for people's farts. And thinking it's funny. Like Daddy, like daughter.

Speaking of farts... or "sarts", actually. Bobbin hasn't quite mastered the "f" sound yet; instead she uses "s". It's adorable. Today she told me about how her toy frog fell down on the floor:

Sog sall down on sore. Bump head. Sog, ah you ok? Ok. Sog ok.

Ah Bobbin, so cute and sunny are you! :-)

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Hello Grandma? It's me, Bobbin

Bobbin calls Grandma Anne on her cell phone (click image to view video):

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This one's for you, Juan!

"Mommy?" Bobbin asked while we were watching tv the other night. "Yes, honey?" I replied. "Get nakin towel pease?" she asked. "You need an napkin or a towel? What for?" I said. "Snotty nose. Boogers. Nose. Snot. Snotty. Nakin." she answered.

I got her the requested napkin, she wiped her nose with it vigourously, then held it out to me triumphantly and said "Nose no snotty. Nakin snotty. Boogers"

And then we went back to watching tv.

Happy Birthday Juan! Hope it snot a snotty one :-)

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Bobbin goes to a Hockey Game

our friend Chris invited us to an Everett Silvertips game last night (in a suite, no less!) and we had a fabulous time! (Thank you again, Chris!).

The Tips lost in the end, but for the 2 full periods we were there, they were leading Prince George 3-0. Apparently Bobbin was their good luck charm because no sooner had we left the building, than it was tied at 3-3 9 minutes into the 3rd period.

But while we were there they were rockin' and so was the arena. And every time the crowd would cheer or clap, Bobbin would shout out "Hoooray!" and clap her hards enthusiastically too! Even when we were sitting in the room beyond the seats enjoying dinner, every time the fans cheered Bobbin would stop and clap her hands and cheer along.;

During one of the intermissions we were lucky enough to have Lincoln the Bear come down the aisle right next to our suite. We ran out and stood at the top so we could get a photo with him when he came back up. Bobbin thought the "Beeeeg Ber" was so cool, she didn't hesitate to high five him when he held out his paw :-)

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Hoppy April!

Bobbin's weekend has been filled with bunnies, eggs, and ham. It started yesterday, at her friend Miss E!'s house, with an outdoor egg hunt followed by brunch consisting of ham, ham, and more ham. Oh, other stuff was served as well - D&C put together a fine feast! But Bobbin was all about the ham.

After spending the entire day running around outside in our abnormally warm and sunny weather for this time of year until 8:30pm, she literally crashed and was out until 8am this morning. I awoke to little tiny happy murmers of "Mahning, Moose! Sssssss.... Mommy Seeping. Ssssss. Moose. Good seep? Yah? Ah-kay. Ssssss.... quiet. Mommy seeping in bed. Ah-kay? Good moose" emanating from the baby monitor. What a glorious way to wake up! Sun shining, birds singing, gentle breeze drifting through the window, sweet chatters of my little angel as she lies in bed, and 8:00am in LED on my digital alarm clock display. Aaaaahhhh.

I went in to get her, and the Easter hunt began. Starting with the basket right outside her door, filled with a stuffed frog (she has so many bunnies and chicks already!) which she adored, a Beatrix Potter book about the Flopsie Bunnies, a little wind-up hoppity rabbit, and an egg-shaped cup with a built-in straw. From there we emptied the basket and began the egg search, leading to the living room where a new baby crib, tea set, and lego toy awaited.

After her bottle, the egg hunt resumed. All told, I believe the bunny hid about 40 brightly-coloured plastic eggs indoors, and about another 30 outside, each with some sort of surprise - stickers, Hello Kitty figurines, tiny Bob-the-Builder Trucks, little matchbox racing cars... all her favourites :-) The outside hunt didn't commence until after her nap, which followed a picnic lunch on the back deck of watermelon, cheese, crackers, and... you guessed it... ham :-). There are still some eggs outside that have yet to be "found". We got a bit distracted, stopping to swing, climb steps, fall down said steps (that put a damper on the activities) and play outside with our sand and water table and wheelbarrow (which led to another fall, unfortunately). But she rebounded pretty fast from the missteps, no significant bumps or bruises resulted, and she was back to her usual playful, happy, chatty self within minutes both times.

Grandma and Grandpa and cousin Shawn came over in the afternoon for a dinner of... ham... and Bobbin had fun playing trains and watching dinosaurs with her cousin, and watching her grandma while smiling shyly the entire time :-)

We ended the day with a bath, after which she immediately fell asleep on my shoulder, not even waking when I put on her diaper, smoothed on her after bath cream, and put on her jammies. And not a peep since, either.

Here's some video of the day (click image to view video).

And while we're at it, here's more photos in her April photo album including more easter photos!

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Bugs and Boogers... sound like every toddler you know?

Bobbin has started referring to the excretions eminating from her nose as "boogers".

She's not incorrect. But I'd rather she use a more socially acceptable term - at least until she's old enough to know what's not socially acceptable, and chooses to employ those words anyway.

"Booger!" she'll exclaim, holding out her hand after a furious 30 seconds of rubbing and wiping it with the back and palm of her hands. "Yes, honey. You have a runny nose. Here, let's wipe it with a tissue" I'll respond in my neutral mommy tone. Although it's hard not to laugh when you hear a little pipsqueak voice shout "booger!" excitedly.

Tim agrees that the word "booger" is inappropriate. His response was to teach her to use the word "snot" instead. You can imagine the conversation that ensued between us and you'd be correct. "'Snot' is not appropriate either, honey", I said. "Snot?" he replied, with a smirk. I maintained my Mommy Disapproval Face (MDF). But I wanted to laugh and say "Stop it. 'Snot funny". Who doesn't want to engage in snot puns when the opportunity presents itself?

But booger seems to be sticking (pun intended) with her despite all of our attempts to replace it with a more acceptable phrase. I guess in all honesty, 'runny nose' isn't technically accurate either, because sometimes it's just like cement up there; it's not running, it's caked.

I suppose the saving grace so far (knock on snot...er...wood) is that she isn't actually picking her nose. She's just rubbing it. Although there will come a time...

Now that I've ruined your appetite, lets move onto bugs.

Bobbin is fascinated by bugs. I can't stand bugs. Almost any type of bug. Spiders are the worst. But I don't even like moths or butterflies either although I've since developed an appreciation for the butterfly after my many visits with Bobbin to the living butterfly exhibit at the science center. They are pretty when they are in flight. However in general, I think bugs are creepy. I don't have the fear of bees or wasps - I'm not afraid of a bee sting, having been stung a few times as a child (and thankfully not experiencing the infamous allergic reactions) and I know if I don't bug them, they are not likely to bug me, even if they're close to me. But I don't like the thought of bugs of any kind crawling on or near me.

However I've found that I have a new level of tolerance for the critters now that I'm looking at them through the eyes of a toddler, and one who is keenly watching my every reaction to everything. They're little itty bitty (so far), and they move in such interesting ways, and they look so completely different from other things (alive or inanimate) that move and they simply must be studied. Closely.

I also don't want to pass my fear of bugs on to Bobbin. I know my fears are irrational. I'd rather she not have to deal with the same trauma I experience when I'm around bugs because bugs are everywhere. There's no escaping them. it's quite stressful to be fearful of them. If she's gonna be afraid of them or grossed out by them, it'll be for her reasons, not because of some behaviour learned from me.

And truth be told, I have a selfish reason for not wanting her to develop a bug phobia. I can remember waking my parents up many a night, especially in summer, with screams of "Mommy! Daddy! There's a spider in my room!". And when I got to the age where they felt I should be able to move past it and stopped getting out of bed to take care of it for me, the banging of my shoe on the walls and ceiling at 2am in the morning, and the accompanying shrieks when I'd remove the shoe only to find the bug had either vanished, or started moving again, would wake them instead. I don't want to be squishing bugs (or trying to humanely capture and release them) at 2am.

Likewise, I would rather she not be aware of my own phobia, in the event she decides to use it against me and hide creepy crawlies in my pockets or bedsheets or whereever.

And so, when we were outside today climbing and playing on the huge cedar that had blown over in The Big Wind Storm of December 2006 and still lies across our back yard, when Bobbin pointed to a little tiny beetle crawling up the side of the trunk and said "Budder", I looked at it with interest and replied "Yes, honey! A beetle! Look how small he is, and how fast he crawls! Look at all his little legs! Isn't that cool?". And when she picked it up in a pincer grasp and brought it up to her eyes to examine more closely, and started squeezing her fingers together to see what would happen, I said "Gentle honey. You don't want to hurt the beetle. He's so small and you're so big. Don't squeeze or pinch. Let's put him down now, so he can go home to his mommy and daddy". And when she put him down on his back and his little legs were flailing in an unsuccessful attempt to turn himself over, I gently nudged him back onto his tummy and let him go on his merry way.

And later, as we were sitting on the back deck after dinner, when she pointed down at the floor and exclaimed "Pider" excitedly, I followed her finger and smiled and said "Oh! A little itsy bitsy spider! Just like in the song" and fought the urge to sweep it off the deck or cover it with my shoe.

There will be a line. A bug that is too creepy or crawly or slimy or big for me to fake anything but mild displeasure. There already is. I refuse to acknowledge slugs. They totally gross me out. And so as long as she doesn't notice them, I'm not going to point them out. And when she does finally notice them, I will be as neutral as possible, but will do everything I can to avoid having to look at (much less touch) it. And I will still probably cringe and try and distract her with something else.

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taking turns

earlier this evening:

Bobbin: Wheh daddy go?
Me: Daddy went to the store to get Tommy some food for dinner.
Bobbin: Daddy go buy tommy dinner.
Me: Yes, that's right. He'll be home soon.
Bobbin (pointing to the tv): Eh-mo?
Me: No. No Elmo. Elmo's gone nite-nite. We're watching Baseball.
Bobbin: Bee-bah. Daddy tun pick show Settles into my arms happily and almost immediately launches into her play-by-play.

as a rule in our house, after 7pm and until Bobbin goes to bed, the TV either goes off or Tim gets to decide what to watch. It's our way of giving "Eh-mo" (and Tim and I, truth be told) a bit of a break and to set some tv-watching limits. So when Bobbin asks for Elmo, I say "It's daddy's turn to pick the show". daddy will invariably pick a sport, if there's a game of interest on, be it hockey, baseball, or football. Or he'll find something mundane like the cooking channel, or dateline (as long as it's something boring and benign and not one of the "to catch a predator" episodes).

It also gives us an opportunity to teach Bobbin about taking turns, and sharing. Seems the lessons are sticking so far!

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Note to self: watching baseball on TV, while guaranteed to put me to sleep, is too stimulating for Bobbin

It's official. We have ourselves a little sports fanatic. Baseball season has begun, and Bobbin is drawn to anything remotely resembling a ball and a bat. Chants of "Foo-bah" have been replaced with "bee-bah". She wants to play it, watch it on tv, and go see it in person. Bobbin's new favourite sentence is

"Bee-bah hit. Evee-buddy cap hans"

She's still talking non-stop about the game we took her to on Monday. "Moose. Cah. Pull. Moose fah down. Silly moose. Bee-bah game. Hit bah. Wunnin'. Bat. Bee-bah hit. Evee-buddy cap hans".

And she's not a passive bee-ball tv watcher. She does play-by-play.

"Mainers tun" (Mariners' turn)

"Bah, hit bat!"

"Eh wunnin!'" (He's running!)

"ah no!"

"Caught bah hans" (Caught the ball in his hands)

"Eh-vee-buddy cap hans"

It was 8:30pm, tim was at the pet food store, she'd had 2 bottles, and wasn't even close to going to sleep. I actually had to turn off the game and put on the baby channel, which immediately did her in. Not 15 seconds into that she was soundly sawing logs on my shoulder and I popped her into bed.

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Bee-ball, bats and Moose

Bobbin had a blast at the Mariners season opener today. We arrived in our seats literally just in time for the first pitch. Bobbin got to see the opening day fireworks display from the roof of the parking garage across the street from the stadium, which was just close enough for her to see it and be thrilled, but not too close to make her afraid (that came later, as we were exiting the stadium just as the mariners scored a home run :-)). All she could talk about as we were heading into the stadium was bee-ball, bee-ball, bee-ball, running, throwing, and bat. She got completely caught up in the excitement of opening day as throngs of people rushed through the stadium entrance and up the stairs.

Tim bought her a big stuffed Mariner Moose, which she absolutely adores and spent the entire 5 innings we were there hugging. She sat on my lap with her gaze locked on the field, and every time the crowd erupted in cheers she would clap her hands and shout "Everybody clap! Hooray!". She had a hot dog and watermelon for a mid-afternoon snack. We walked around the park and stood at the fence behind the batting cages for a close-up view of the field and players. She was practically hanging from the fence. I could have let go of her and she would have stayed in place. we got to see the Mariner Moose on rollerskates being pulled around by a car. She thought that was great fun!

We left at 5 because I had a work-related conference call at 5:30. Otherwise I think we might have stayed even longer.

Later on at home, after dinner and pjs and her last bottle of the night, we sat rocking in her chair getting ready to go nite-nite, and she recapped the afternoon:

Bobbin: Bee-ball! Go bee-ball game!

Me: Yes, we went to a baseball game! You, me, and Daddy. Did you have fun at the game?

Bobbin: Yeah!

Me: What was your favourite part?

Bobbin: Moose. Cah (car) pull moose.

Me: That was funny, when the car pulled the moose. And the moose fell down. He was silly.

Bobbin: Silly moose.

Me: What else did you like?

Bobbin: Bee-ball. Bat. Toe (throw). Wunnin (running).

Me: You liked to watch them throw the ball and hit it with the bat and run around the bases. That is fun.

Bobbin: Moose wunnin.

Me: Yes, the moose was running too. Actually, he was roller skating. He had wheels on his shoes.

Bobbin: Moose wheels on soos. Cah pull.

Bobbin: Evee-body cap (clap).

Bobbin: Bah hit. Eve-body cap.

Bobbin: Toe bah. Eve-body cap.

Me: Yes that's right. Everybody clapped whenever the mariners threw out a hitter, or hit the ball and ran. And they'd shout "Hooray! Go Mariners!"

Bobbin: Say hoo-ay. Eve-body cap. Cap cap cap.

We talked a bit more about the baseball game. And the moose. And then we read a few stories and I tucked her into bed wide awake but sleepy, and then she was out. like a light. I'm pretty sure I know what she'll be dreaming about tonight!

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"G" is for Koko!

Bobbin has a set of little foam alphabet letters that stick to the sides of the bathtub when wet. She was playing with them tonight. She'd hold up a letter, like 'M', and I'd say "Em! Mmmmm! like Mommy and Music Mmmmmm! Em!" and so on. When she finally got to the letter 'G', before I could get a sound or word out, she shouted out "Koko!".

Which, if you're Bobbin, me, or Tim, makes perfect sense. Because Koko is a Gorilla.

Therefore, 'G' is for Koko :-)

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Rain rain come or stay, Little Bobbin will play either way

We spent pretty much the entire day, except for her 1 1/2 hour nap, and 1 hour out to the toy store and back, outside.

This morning it was bee-ball (Bobbin's name for baseball/tee-ball) and swinging in the rain. She actually asked me to go get a towel to dry off her swing ("Mama towow die sing? Towow go get?") and waited (relatively) patiently in the rain next to her swingset while I ran back into the laundry room and dredged up a dirty towel from the pile in front of the washer. The bee-ball was a big hit too. Only the $6 tee-ball set we had purchased came up to her shoulder, so her swing was a little high and awkward. But she totally got the concept, and had fun hitting the ball off the tee, even if it was a tad outside her "strike" zone :-). Between the two activities we were pretty much occupied for a good hour and a half outside, even while it rained.

She came in for lunch, which was immediately followed by a short nap of about an hour and 20 minutes, and then she woke up rarin' to go for more. We snacked, watched some Thomas the Tank Engine, and then headed back outside where we played and dawdled our way up the hill to the car, and then went for a drive up to the toy store so we could try and find a toddler tee-ball set that was a little more appropriately sized and also to go pick her up a new mariner's bee-ball hat and t-shirt for the season opener on monday,

She had a grand ol' time wandering the toy store. Was there any doubt she would? As soon as we hit the Thomas the Tank Engine section, she was practically jumping out of the shopping cart, so I put her down and she went to town playing and exploring. All of the little wooden toy Thomas train cars ended up back on their shelves when she wasn't looking :-) But we did exit the store with a water & sand play table, a pink toddler tee-ball set (they were out of the "boy's blue and yellow" version. Since when are blue and yellow strictly boy colours?) that is perfect for her size, an elmo bubble-blower, and a mariner's baseball hat, a mariner's hoody, and a mariner's t-shirt. The hoody is pink, but the other two items are proper mariners colours :-)

As soon as we got home she was asking for the bubble blower. By this time we had a break in the rain and the sun was shining and it was quite warm. So I got it out of the box and set it up on the deck and she squealed with delight watching elmo dip his little bubble wand into the bowl of bubble "juice" and then bring it up to his mouth and blow. Little bubbles floated and popped happily in the sun all afternoon.

After I got the elmo bubble blower going, I focused on the bee-ball set, which was quick and simple to set up. That occupied her while I got the sand-and-water table built which took some time and effort (especially considering I have no idea where Tim keeps his phillips screwdrivers, although I suspect he had probably taken them with him to work today). Once I had it built and stable enough I filled the water part with water, and then filled the sand part with water (given that we had no proper clean play sand; that'll have to be a trip to home depot tomorrow) while she occupied herself with rearranging her lawn chairs on the deck, using them to shuttle plastic bee-balls back and forth from one end to the other (her little arms were probably tired from all the bat-swinging at that point!).

No sooner did I have the water in the table than Bobbin was splashing around in it, pushing the boat around, and using it as a cup to scoop water from the moat into the castle. She had a total blast. We were outside all told for about 2 1/2 hours. The only reason we came in at all was because she had informed me she had a pee-pee so we went in to change her diaper (and her clothes, which were completely drenched at that point).

Once inside and changed, I think the idea of staying warm and dry inside appealed to her so we stayed inside and played for a while. We have a new game called "I got you" (or "I touch you"; not really clear what she's saying) where we count to 5 together and then I run out from behind the bookcase towards her growling "I'm gonna getcha, I'm gonna getcha" and then I pounce on her and tickle her and say "I gotcha!".

Ok... rewind for just a second. Yes... Bobbin counts to 5. Blew me away. I had no idea she could do this. I've heard her count to three on occasion, but never higher. But it was clear as a bell: "Un, too, tee, fah, sis!". Ok... so technically she's skipping five and going right to six, and occasionally will also skip six and seven too and go right to eight, but there's no doubt about her intent. And she gets the first four numbers correct. Unless she starts thinking about the alphabet, and then she gets a little mixed up and it sounds like "Aye, too, See". But who doesn't get numbers and letters mixed up from time to time? (complete tangent: I have a vivid memory of 2nd grade, writing the word for each number next to the numeral itself, and next to 9 I wrote 9i9e. My teacher told me to correct it, and I erased it and wrote 9i9e. Again. Finally after two or three more rounds of this, my teacher pointed out I was writing my 'n's as '9's. now back to the present).

I ordered pizza for dinner, which we both devoured hungrily. And then Bobbin decided she wanted to go back outside. The sun was starting to set, and it had started raining again. So I put her boots on her, and her rain poncho, put on my own rain coat, and out we went. She stomped on the wet deck, and helped me pick up her toys, and then we went walking around the "garden" (aka the triangle patch of dirt in front of the deck that was supposed to be nicely manicured and groomed and blooming with pretty flowers but is in fact completely covered in weeds with little white blossoms) and Bobbin picked flowers and ran up and down the hill in the dirt and gravel, having a great time.

As we were stomping around in the dirt, I caught a tiny movement out of the corner of my eye. I searched the weeds and found a tiny little frog that I managed to corner into jumping onto my hand. I showed Bobbin the little frog and her eyes got so big. She'd never seen a real frog before. This one was about the size of a nickle in the palm of my hand. She watched it with fascination. Then I made it jump off my hand and she exclaimed "Sog! Jump!" and then started poking around in the dirt for it. But it had hopped away and was hiding under a leaf waiting to make its final getaway. "Mama! Get it!" she shouted excitedly. "Moh Sog!". I could see it sitting there, still as a statue but I explained the baby frog had gone back to his house where his mommy frog and daddy frog were waiting for him.

By this time it was dusk, the rain was coming down fairly steadily and we were wet in our raincoats. But Bobbin wanted "moh sogs" so I carried her to the edge of the wetlands and we stood there listening to the "sogs sin" as the dark settled in.

Once we had our fill we headed back up into the house and changed into our PJs and had our last baba of the night. She fell asleep around an hour ago in my arms as I rocked her in her rocking chair and sang "Rock-a-bye" baby to her. And there's been not a peep since.

I have some good video of the water table and bubble blower, and the bee-ball playing but they'll have to wait till tomorrow. I think I'm gonna head to bed.

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Bobbin's Back yard

The last couple of days we've had beautiful weather. That combined with the longer day light time, means that we spend most of our time after school playing outside around the house, only coming in briefly for dinner and then playing outside again until bathtime/bedtime.

And when I say playing, I mean playing. it's hard work, keeping up with a 20-month toddler who has 5.62 acres of field to run and play in. Ok - so we aren't exactly letting her wander into the wetlands. But that still leaves a couple of good acres of rolling hilly grassy ground for her on which to leap and run and jump and fall (because falling is fun, when you do it on purpose :-))

Here's just a glimpse of what we do outside (click image to view video)

We like to "walk on rocks" up the hill all by ourselves. Walking uphill is hard work, but lots of fun. And we feel like we've really accomplished something when we get to the top. If you listen carefully, in the first one you can hear Bobbin talking about Tommy's "pee pee" as he's going potty, and asking to go for a "sing" (swing), and telling me she wants daddy to "puss" (push) "pease" (please).

We also like to pick flowers. Dandilions are our favourites.

We love to play in puddles, splashing and jumping ourselves as well as throwing things into them. "Woo ooo Woo ooo" is her toy ambulance.

We like to watch airplanes in the sky. We're directly under a flight path so we see lots of planes directly overhead but fortunately we're not close enough to the airport for them to be annoyingly low and noisy.

We like to watch Daddy, and bunnies (we had seen one just prior to coming out here) in the yard

We like to throw "tick" (sticks) in the "steam" (stream)

We like to swing on our swingset

We like to play "golf"

and most recently we discovered we love "baseball" (We didn't have a t-ball set when this video was filmed so we had to improvise. Given her enjoyment, we went out and bought a little plastic MLB t-ball set at Target the next day for $5.99. I'll post video of that later :-))

If it's a clear sky, we end the day by looking through Daddy's new telescope that he got for his birthday at the moon and stars, and then we say nite-nite to the sun and come inside (ok, the coming inside part usually requires a half-hour head start. Bobbin does NOT like to come inside, even when it's dark out. It takes several "the sun has gone nite-nite so we need to go inside" discussions to convince her it is time to go in.

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I'm not a real doctor, but I play one in our living room

After dinner Bobbin decided to get out her toy medical kit and give us all checkups.

She put her stethoscope around her neck (because putting it in the ears is just plain uncomfortable) and proceeded to listen to my heart ("PAH-pah, PAH-pah") and stick the toy thermometer under my arm (What? Don't you still take your own temperature that way? :-)).

As I sat there with a piece of fisher-price-blue plastic wedged in my armpit waiting for the little happy-face to appear on the tip indicating I'm a-ok, I looked at her and smiled and said "Hi Doctor Bobbin!", to which she replied "Hi Doctor Mama!"

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Apparently, I have feelings...

Bobbin and I were playing with her Little People house in her bedroom tonight, after dinner.

Bobbin had the mommy in her hand and was looking at her with some concern.

"What's wrong, Bobbin?" I asked. She looked up at me. "Mama kie" she replied, holding the mommy up in her hands. "Mommy's crying?" I questioned. Bobbin nodded, gravely. "Why is mommy crying?" I asked. "Mama sad" was her reply. Ah. of course. "Mama? Ah you ah-kay? Mama seep. nite-nite mama", Bobbin said. And with that, she tucked mama into her little people bed, face down, and covered her with a tissue.

At first I was a little worried. Does she think I'm sad? It's not like I spend my days sad or crying in front of her and going off to my room to hide under the blankets. Even when I was on my medical leave of absence and seeing a therapist for depression, my day was always genuinely bright and happy when we were together. She's my sunshine!

Then I decided it's a positive development. Bobbin's always had an active imagination, but her imaginative play is definitely evolving and getting more elaborate. And apparently she realizes that mommies can have feelings too. And that is definitely a good thing :-)

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Ok... maybe the only thing cuter than

A toddler learning how to wink, is a toddler throwing toilet paper into the toilet, grabbing the rim with both hands, sticking her head over it, and enthusiastically yelling "BYE-BYE!!!!" into the bowl at the top of her lungs while I flush.

No... she hasn't actually used the potty yet herself. But she does so love the flushing part. I've drawn the line at letting her yell bye-bye to my... er... eliminations (despite her loud and emotional protests) the compromise being that when I'm done, flushed, and washed, she gets to throw a clean square of toilet paper into the toilet and shout her farewells. And then wash her own hands.

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Girl's night in

Last night Bobbin and I spent the evening in her room, sorting through her little box of "Bets" (barrettes) and doing each others' hair. This was the result.

You should have seen mine.

After the styling, Bobbin decided she wanted to cruise the house on her little pink car - the one that Washington Grandma and Grandpa gave her for her 1st birthday - showing off her new 'do to the kitties, Tommy, and Daddy. (click image to view video)

Bobbin says "Great wheels, Grandma! Thanks!" (Actually, what she says is "Cah! Bweeeg Cah! Brrrrmmmm brrrrmmmm! 'Mon, Mama!") She's puttin' a lot of mileage on it these days. And not a day goes by when we don't sit down to "tea" as well, at some point.

More photos here!

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There's nothin' cuter than...

A toddler learning how to wink.

That's Bobbin's new thing. She's trying to learn how to wink. The facial contortions involved are hilarious - kind of this half-wink, scrunched-nose, furrowed brow, purse-lipped grin face - and she always ends up using her finger as a last resort to get her one eye all the way closed while leaving the other one open.

She was doing it all last night, and all the way to school this morning. Very intent on perfecting this skill. It was all I could do to keep from busting out laughing every time I looked at her in the rear view mirror.

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