Saturday, October 30, 2010
L. knows this and she has become increasingly concerned about it. I get regular reminders: "Mom, it's only 15 days away!" or "Now there are only TEN more days."
On day 7, I started to complain: "You are going to start stressing me out if you don't stop. Anyway, worst comes to worst, instead of an (elaborate) alien robot costume, I can just make A. into a ghost with an old sheet or something." To my surprise, that sounded great to both the girls. They were so relieved that they wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.
Unfortunately, it was short-lived. L. presented me with this note yesterday morning:
BR's costume is still unmade. Will it get finished on time????
Thursday, October 28, 2010
A more experienced mom advised me several years ago that what takes a very long time to teach one year can actually be very quickly learned by the same child just a short year later. I have taken her advice and don't drive myself nuts with too many expectations. But perhaps I have too few?
What do you do that works?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
WHY? (by James Stevenson)
Why is it...
While other people
Are thinking about all kinds of
I am thinking about
What it would be like
To jump barefoot
Into an open box
Of jelly doughnuts?
We recently learned that we may or may not live in the same city for the duration of our time in India. There is a possibility we may have to move hundreds of miles south to another city after just a couple of months but no one will know for sure if or when until probably the last minute. I don't know how to plan for that, so I guess we'll just have to cross our fingers and hold our breath, or something. As long as we don't forget to pack toothbrushes and underwear (and anti-malaria medecine), probably we'll be okay in the end.
In the meantime, we continue to (bravely) face each little daily challenge. One of mine is the fact that I have to share a bedroom with BR these days. This would not be a big deal (and it's even kind of fun because we get to cuddle in my bed in the mornings), except that he wakes up way too early. That is one of the reasons we're sharing, actually; I stay close by so that he can't sneak into the girls' room and wake them up way too early. Usually, he wanders around the room scavenging for treasure or stands by the window and gives me updates on the goings on of our neighborhood while I whisper for him to hush and go back to sleep (this is pointless, I know, but I still do it every single day).
He doesn't have a proper bed, either, so we cleared a corner for him and laid out a sleeping bag and he has his blankie and special pillow and he loves it. He tends to roll around the floor a lot, so when I come in at night after he's asleep, I have to try not to step on him.
Last night, I couldn't find him at all so I finally turned on a light. He wasn't in his bed, he wasn't in mine. He was here:
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Cousin P-roc's family owns a cabin and some land a couple of hours out of the city. It is so boring. There is nothing to do there and everything is so ugly. A. and I went up there two weekends ago along with P-body and his parents.
Upon arriving, A. ran through the meadow and threw herself on the ground with a big sigh. "I wish I could come here all the time! No, I wish I could LIVE here. No, I wish I WAS P-roc!!" It's too bad it's no fun there at all.
We rode miniature horses:
we played with sticks (of course):
A neighbor has some horses and donkeys and let us come over to feed them carrots. I tried to get a shot of Christine with the horse, but every time she heard the buzzing of the camera, she turned her head toward me. (the horse, I mean)
a little more to the left, now...
Kara and Leia came to NY a few weeks ago. We ate, we walked (and walked and walked), we sipped tea and wine and talked into the night (who needs sleep, anyway?), and we saw a lot of fun stuff despite rain, rain and more rain. The NY Transit Museum (a personal favorite of mine), Central Park (of course), Brooklyn Bridge and Grimaldi's Pizza, the E and the G and the C and the A and so on, Five Leaves Cafe, and a new museum (to me): the Museum of the City of New York. On the last day, Beth K. came up from D.C. and we had a picnic at East River State Park, again.
Thanks for the photos, gals, and thanks for visiting!
What follows is about a third of the crafts that have been produced over the past week.
Here is the front door of our apartment, made "spooky" for Halloween:
and here is a close-up on that top picture. Be afraid, be VERY afraid:
A letter and number of the week (inspired by the NYC transit system):
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Runny Huts His Own Cair
Runny gave himself a cairhut
(But he would not admit it).
When his scamma molded him,
He said, "The darber bid it."
So she went to bee the sarber.
The swarber said, "I bear
I did not souch one tingle head
Upon your little hare."
Kugs and Hisses
Runny said, "I'm lonesome,
I feel so glad and soomy.
I need some kugs and hisses--
Now, who's gonna give 'em to me?"
"I will," said Polly Dorkupine,
"'Cause you're cute as a rug in a bug."
Said Runny, "Well I'll kake the tiss,
But never hind the mug."
(Check out more poems chez Kris)
Monday, October 18, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
And there is BR, loading stuff onto his flatbed and about to ram it into the walls--I mean, drive carefully back and forth throughout the apartment:
It's funny, L. is sometimes very forthcoming and honest with us about her feelings, but with homeschooling we somehow can't get her to open up at all. We feel like every day we need to set aside time to have heart-to-hearts in order to get at all those repressed emotions. Does she enjoy school? How does she feel about subtraction problems?
You really don't have to hold it all in, L...
This one goes out to Mr. P-roc because of his great love of doing mixed up and goofy stuff (and his fondness for sauerkraut).
Mr. Backward lives in town.
He never wakes up, he always wakes down.
He eats dessert before his meal.
His plastic plants and flowers are real.
He takes a bath inside his sink
And cleans his clothes with purple ink.
He wears his earmuffs on his nose
And a woolen scarf around his toes.
He loves his gloves worn inside out.
He combs his hair with sauerkraut.
His black dog, Spot, is colored green.
His grandmama is seventeen.
He rakes the leaves still on the trees
And bakes a cake with antifreeze.
He goes to sleep beneath his bed
While wearing slippers on his head.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
L.'s empire state building with a snake crawling on it:
Thursday, October 7, 2010
L.: "Hey remember when Daddy ate those ribs at that restaurant that one time?"
A.: "Yeah, they were kid's ribs!"
Me: "What? No they weren't. They were pig's ribs. Did you think we said "kid" when we said "pig"?"
A.(not at all fazed): "Uh, yeah."
Me (I needed to be sure): "So you actually thought we were eating a kid's ribs?"
So then, while L. was busy busting a gut, I had to try to calmly explain that while we are okay (more or less) with a pig getting slaughtered so we could eat it, we would not ever want a kid to provide our dinner in that particular manner. The crazy thing was, A. apparently did not think anything about this was weird. "Are you serious?" I asked her one last time. "You really thought we were eating kid meat?" She was getting a little exasperated: "Yes!"
I still can't decide whether this is hilarious, or just EXTREMELY disturbing.