Babies taking care of babies. . .

Note to self…

It’s probably time for a certain 5 yr. old who missed the kindergarten deadline by 9 days to stop “taking naps” when the following has happened or has been found when naps are over…

1.  A very detailed piece of art found drawn in pen on a pillowcase

2.  A tent was found made over her head out of pillows and blankets

3.  Large screws were found unscrewed from part of the bed which made part of it collapse

4.  Hieroglyphic people were drawn in crayon on the wall beside where she sleeps

5.  Books were strewn across the floor from her avid reading habit

6.  Dresser knobs were found unscrewed

7.  An errant pair of scissors mysteriously found their way into her room, unbeknownst to her mother.  Upon opening the door after naps, the following were found, cut and destroyed into smitherines. . . doll clothes, papers, pieces of blankets, library bag straps, purse straps, and of course, hair.

8.  And finally, two days ago was the final straw.

After some serious investigating, we discovered that the said 5 year old had spent nap time “chewing on those two gold things”, in adult language, the plug of the Christmas candle decoration that sits in her window sill.  She then looped a metal bracelet over the plug and left it loosely hanging from the metal prongs.  She then plugged it in, but just barely, not enough to actually get any power.  Later that afternoon Malia saw it not all the way plugged in, and decided to push it all the way in, resulting in a tripped fuse and a serious mini-explosion. 

We’ve decided she shouldn’t “take naps” anymore.

Malia’s Reflections Composition

Here is her composition. . .It came home today and I got to read it for the first time.  Should have known that she’d write about clothing. . .my little fashionista.

 

“There are all different shoes!  There are high heels and sneakers and boots and flip-flops.  Some people do not have shoes.  Shoes are used for feet and walking on things.

You wear pants.  Some people do not have pants.  They wear skirts.  We are lucky we have pants.

We have shirts too!  Shirts are something good to have.  We are very, very, very lucky.  Everyone uses shirts.

The End”

So cute. . .

“Winner Winner, Turkey Dinner!”

These were the words I heard being shouted out of the car window when the big girls were driving up one day after Dad spent the entire day at school with them.  It had been quite the day for them. . . it started out with the Reflections Assembly that morning.  Many of you remember that some time ago I posted several pictures that Line had taken and was trying to decide which one to enter in the school’s PTA Reflections program.   She decided on one of the red rose.  Malia also entered the Reflections program this year with a written composition that she did at school.  We were notified by mail that they both were winners for their grade and not only were they moving on to the next level but they were being honored at their school’s Reflection’s Assembly.  In announcing the winners, first they give certificates of participation to all the students who entered, calling each student out by name and having them come up and receive a certificate but excluding the names of those who won.   Then they give Honorable Mentions to those students whose entries almost won and honor them with a medal.  Then they give Certificates and Trophies to those students whose work is being judged at the next level.  The other year that Line’s work moved on we were unfamiliar with this process, as was she, and we could see her trying to be happy for those around her even though her name had not been called out.   Now, two years later and two years wiser, she knew that when her name had not been called out at either the participation level or the honorable mention level that she would get  a trophy.  It was funny the sharp contrast of her expression this year as she waited compared to her face several years ago. 

Malia, for those of you who know her, keeps the same expression on her face regardless of what’s happening. . . .very stoic.  She later told us that as she sat waiting, and didn’t hear her name, she was thinking to herself, “Oh well. . . I guess mine wasn’t that good.”  Oh, that girl.  You’d think that then when they eventually called her name that she would have shown some emotion classified as excited, happy, relieved, surprised, etc., but alas, none of the above.  Naki says it’s her extreme level of humility.  She doesn’t want those around her to feel badly, or to place herself above others.  And I have to agree.  Even though it’s a bit blurry, this is after she’s received her trophy.  She’s sitting with a calm expression, and her friend on either side of her has the expression on their faces that we’d expected to be on her face.  You should know that when asked what she felt when she’d won, she said ”I was SOOOO excited, but with no smile.”

 

 

Later that day the school was having their first annual Turkey Trot.  Each gender from each grade raced each other, with the winner getting a turkey.  Our girls had such fun.  Line is officially the second fastest girl in the second grade and Malia is officially the fastest girl in the first grade!!!  Winner winner, Turkey Dinner!!!

 

 

 

Also, the week earlier an assignment came home with Malia that was called a “Family Assignment”.  We were given a turkey outline to fill in as a family.  We could use any materials we wanted, as long as we worked as a family.  It was actually pretty fun to see how different minds attacked the same project.  The body was done by mom, most of the bottom feathers and feet by dad, Line and her helper Eli did the feathers on the top left, and Malia and her helper Lose did the feathers on the top right.  Our materials included beads, shells, pom poms, peanut butter chips, pretzels, vanilla chips, spaghetti noodles, other noodles, soynuts, dried blueberries, cheerios, buttons, and letter beads.  Malia had the great idea of putting “AAAGH!” in the middle of the turkey, since it was about to be consumed.   She came home that same day as the assembly and the turkey trot having been given the “Most Creative” award for that cute little AAAGH.  *whew* WHAT a day that was. . . here the girls are with their spoils.

Even though they were so successful this particular day, we talked with them about how much fun they had just being a part of each individual project.  They definitely enjoyed winning, and everyone should get the chance to feel what that feels like, but we wanted them to know that even if they hadn’t come home so successful, they had fun regardless.  What great girlies. . . just who ARE their amazing parents, I wonder.  (Apparently, I need to acquire some of that humility, babe.)

“Dinr to nite”

Some time ago, I found a piece of paper taped to the wall just as you’re walking into our kitchen, with the words “Dinr to nite” written on it.  Malia had decided that our kitchen deserved a name.  After seeing the words written there, for the next several days I realized that I say something along these lines  almost every night, “Girlies, what’s  for dinner tonight?”.  I think our kitchen is very aptly named, Malia.  So, since then, we have been using it as a restaurant every Monday night.  (It seems we run out of seating rather quickly, so you’d better make your reservations early.)  The girls are the rotating chefs every Monday, and they get to take turns picking out what we’re having that evening and then helping Mom prepare it.  We turn down all the lights, light some candles on the table, dad gets us some music from the computer, and we enjoy an evening out at the restaurant “Dinr to nite”.  We speak in soft tones, going around the table asking each other about our day,  just visiting with each other,  or we’ve played some rhyming games  as well.  My favorite part of the evening is when the girls say to whomever cooked that evening, “My compliments to the chef”.  It has been so fun to see them practice their restaurant manners, so that some day when we go to a restaurant, hopefully it won’t be too chaotic and crazy.  It has been so much fun. . .thanks for some fun nights eating at our restaurant, girlies.

Mars Needs Moms

Every person with a Mom out there needs to read this book.  It was given to me by one of my dear dear friends Laura Bailey.  A small warning to those reading it, it’s probably not best to read it out loud the first, second, third, or maybe even the fourth time if you can’t talk  and cry at the same time, a gift I definitely do not have!  It is so touching for me to think about my mom every time I read this.  The other night I was reading to the girlies, and someone picked this one to read.  Okay, I thought, I think I’ve read this enough to get through it.  After I blubbered my way through, the girls asked me if I was sad.  I told them that no, I wasn’t sad, just so glad to know that I have a mom that would give her life for me just like the mother in the book would do for her child.  Malia started crying, and said, “Just like Jesus died for us, right Mom?”  (Don’t worry, the mom doesn’t actually die.)  It is so so so sweet, and if you can’t afford a copy, our public library has a copy so maybe yours would, too.  It’s a must read.

Here’s a little more info about the background behind the story.

If you’re looking for a Mother’s Day card this week, you’ll find plenty that express love and appreciation for all Mom does. But you probably won’t find one that says, “Thanks for being willing to die for me.”

[Podcast: Back Story: New book out by Bloom County creator Berkeley Breathed.]

Yet that instinct for ultimate self-sacrifice is precisely what differentiates mothers and fathers not only from other people, but also from their former selves, says cartoonist Berkeley Breathed, who zeroes in on this profound truth in his clever new children’s book, “Mars Needs Moms!” (Philomel; 40 pages; $16.99; ages 4-8).

Breathed, who won a Pulitzer Prize for editorial cartooning in 1987 for his strip Bloom County and brought that strip’s beloved penguin back to star in his own Opus Sunday comic in 2003, has written six previous picture books for children. But his new one is the first since he became a parent. Breathed (pronounced BREATH-ed), who will turn 50 in June, and his wife are raising two children, Sophie, 7, and Milo, 5, in upscale Montecito, next to Santa Barbara.

His inspiration for “Mars Needs Moms!” came from a moment when he was coaching his older child at a softball field, and his younger child, who was then 4, wandered off and got very close to the railroad tracks bordering the playground, and he rushed down to grab him.

In that moment, “I imagined him on the tracks and a train coming, and me running across the tracks and pushing the child off while I got smashed,” he says by phone. “And it occurred to me that for the first time in my life, that scenario would have occurred without thinking. I would have knowingly gone to my death to push my kid out of the way of the train. It’s not really until you’re a parent that that notion suddenly springs to mind.”

He found it “so overridingly powerful” and “so original in my life, since I was over 40 by the time I had my kid,” that he decided to explore it in a children’s book. One aspect that intrigued him is that a child is too young to appreciate his parents’ level of commitment.

“And as a kind of a satirist, I thought that’s kind of funny, that I’m raising this kid, and in the midst of her fit of throwing the broccoli on the ceiling, she should be thanking me for the fact that, ‘I’m willing to die for you, you goofy kid. You should be out there washing my car in thanks for that.’ “

As “Mars Needs Moms!” opens, a little boy, Milo (like the Bloom Country character and Breathed’s son, he is named after the protagonist in “The Phantom Tollbooth”) is wondering, “What’s so special about moms?” To him they are just “broccoli bullies” who nag and scold.

Milo gets his answer after Martians come down to Earth and kidnap his mother. Martians don’t have moms because, it turns out, they grow out of the ground like potatoes. Having observed Earth moms through their telescopes, the Martians decided they, too, need moms to drive to soccer and ballet, to play dates, pizza and parks, and for “packing lunches and bandaging boo-boos.”

When his mom is nabbed in the night by the Martians, Milo secretly follows and stows away on their spaceship. After they land on the Red Planet, he trips, smashes his space helmet and starts to choke on the deadly Martian atmosphere. His mother rushes to his aid, gives him her helmet, then collapses. Suddenly Milo realizes the significance of what she’s done. (Don’t worry, kids, the Martians are equally moved and get her a new helmet before it’s too late.)

Breathed’s publisher of 25 years, Little, Brown, wanted him to change the story to her just getting sick for the little boy, rather than being willing to die for him. But the author refused, saying that would be “watering down the point,” and left for another publisher, Philomel.

Especially for Grandmother and Grandfather. . .

Although I want to post much more later, I promised Malia that I would post some pictures specifically for Grandmother and Grandfather to see.  This is some of what your birthday monies provided . . .she had been wanting a Webkins for some time.  She hasn’t been without it except for church, which I’m sure she would have brought with her had we allowed it!  She looked and looked, because she wanted something that was both a little boyish and a little girlish.  She settled on this black poodle, which apparently the black met the boy requirement, and then named it Poodle-ina,  which meets the girl requirement.  Thanks Mom and Dad, for always making it possible for the girlies to have such fun birthdays.