Kiddo was starting her homework last night, and asked me what an angle was. I answered the question without much thought, helped her distinguish it from a vertex, and went on making dinner.
She wrote a song about angles and vertices (using both the singular and plural version correctly!), instead of doing her spelling. But it's a great song.
Then later I felt guilty. If Kiddo doesn't know something about the homework, then it wasn't explained well, or at all. And not every kid has parents who can answer any question about the homework. So I really should let the teacher know. Or in other words, I shouldn't feel the need to help her with her homework every again. Wa-hoo!
(It turns out I don't know how to type any longer without emoticons. I'm not sure how I feel about that.)
Showing posts with label kiddo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kiddo. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Saturday, March 5, 2016
Easter cantata
I am singing in the choir for an Easter Cantata in a few weeks. I signed Kiddo up to sing in the girls' choir portion. Given her size compared to other girls, I'm pretty sure she's one of the youngest. But today at the dress rehearsal I heard her sing out loud and clear.
And before the rehearsal started, I saw her share her jokes with the girls, and befriend them in that easy way that 8 year old girls have (especially my girl).
I was so proud to be her mom today. She's really growing to be a beautiful person.
And before the rehearsal started, I saw her share her jokes with the girls, and befriend them in that easy way that 8 year old girls have (especially my girl).
I was so proud to be her mom today. She's really growing to be a beautiful person.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Magyk and brave boots
I've been trying to make sure I have time for Kiddo these days. Between her good temperament, her sister's slightly more demanding personality, and the fact that I have a 2 year old, sometimes there feels like there's not enough time for her.
But then at the library the other day, she showed interest in a book that is at the right reading level for her, but I was concerned the content might scare her (everything scares her...). So we checked out the book with the caveat that we had to read it together.
Which is awesome. It's been years since she's willing let me read just to her (and it's so important!). More importantly, I now search for time to spend with her, so we can read together. She wants to read over my shoulder, so she sits right next to me. And since we're trying to read a chapter, I often put off the desires of her brother and sister so I can be with her. (What sweeter words can a child hear than, "no, I won't do that with you, I'm with your sister right now?)
The downside? It's a good book (Magyk, by Angie Sage), and I want to know what happens next. Instead, I have to be responsible and send her to bed. (If it were just me, I would totally let myself stay up.)
***
Speaking of everything being scary, she is still reluctant to go downstairs (to our finished basement) by herself. This is a problem, because the door to the garage is there, so coats and shoes are usually there too. The other day she needed something, but was scared, and I was out of patience, so I said "Put your brave boots on, and go get it."
That phrase has entered our lexicon. Some days she can find her brave boots, and some days not. But she at least knows she has some.
But then at the library the other day, she showed interest in a book that is at the right reading level for her, but I was concerned the content might scare her (everything scares her...). So we checked out the book with the caveat that we had to read it together.
Which is awesome. It's been years since she's willing let me read just to her (and it's so important!). More importantly, I now search for time to spend with her, so we can read together. She wants to read over my shoulder, so she sits right next to me. And since we're trying to read a chapter, I often put off the desires of her brother and sister so I can be with her. (What sweeter words can a child hear than, "no, I won't do that with you, I'm with your sister right now?)
The downside? It's a good book (Magyk, by Angie Sage), and I want to know what happens next. Instead, I have to be responsible and send her to bed. (If it were just me, I would totally let myself stay up.)
***
Speaking of everything being scary, she is still reluctant to go downstairs (to our finished basement) by herself. This is a problem, because the door to the garage is there, so coats and shoes are usually there too. The other day she needed something, but was scared, and I was out of patience, so I said "Put your brave boots on, and go get it."
That phrase has entered our lexicon. Some days she can find her brave boots, and some days not. But she at least knows she has some.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
consider the source
I have recently taught the girls how to check the temperature on my iPhone, hoping to reduce arguments from Babs about when a winter coat was necessary.
One morning they determined it was 31 degrees, which I told them was cold, and certainly coat weather.
Later that afternoon, Kiddo announced to me, "I think your phone is wrong."
I asked for more details.
"My friend told me that it was 29 degrees this morning, so I think your phone is wrong."
I really didn't know where to start. That the difference between 29 and 31 is trivial, and could be from time or place of measurement, but would not actually influence whether or not she needed a coat? No, there was a bigger problem.
"So, you're telling me that you believe your 8 year old friend over the weather channel, that is run by people who have studied for years about how to understand weather?"
"Yeah,"
I didn't want to teach her to distrust her friends, but the more my brain caught up with the situation, the more I was less irritated and more desperate.
"There will be times that you hear things at school that don't match what we you know from home," I told her. "First, I want you to talk to me about it. Second, you should always assume what you learned at home is true, until we can figure it out."
I hope she was listening.
One morning they determined it was 31 degrees, which I told them was cold, and certainly coat weather.
Later that afternoon, Kiddo announced to me, "I think your phone is wrong."
I asked for more details.
"My friend told me that it was 29 degrees this morning, so I think your phone is wrong."
I really didn't know where to start. That the difference between 29 and 31 is trivial, and could be from time or place of measurement, but would not actually influence whether or not she needed a coat? No, there was a bigger problem.
"So, you're telling me that you believe your 8 year old friend over the weather channel, that is run by people who have studied for years about how to understand weather?"
"Yeah,"
I didn't want to teach her to distrust her friends, but the more my brain caught up with the situation, the more I was less irritated and more desperate.
"There will be times that you hear things at school that don't match what we you know from home," I told her. "First, I want you to talk to me about it. Second, you should always assume what you learned at home is true, until we can figure it out."
I hope she was listening.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
yay at the dentist
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
thoughts from the park
Part of the reason she wanted to go to the park is because she *finally* learned how to swing on her own, and wanted to practice. Because I am so ready to not push her any more, I wanted her to practice. She sang a happy song and swung for a really long time.
The Boy brought two books to the park. He was much more interested in being read to and wandering around the park with his two books than the swings, the slides, or climbing around.
And as I watch Babs emerge from the slide I thought: When did my little girl get so long and lean? Where did my little brick go? I guess she is old enough to go to kindergarten... even if I still wish it were half day.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
the power of prayer
We try to teach our children to pray. Some days, when they are climbing all over us, and looking at each other the whole time it seems that no progress is being made. But sometimes I think we are.
Kiddo received a gift card for Christmas, but recently when we discussed using it we realized it was lost. She had taken it out of the box we put it in for safekeeping, and had packed it in one of her many bags for play one day. We prayed that we would find it, but we didn't. Many days later I was unpacking one of her bags so it could be used for something else, and there was the gift card. (Along with many, many other tiny things. That kid's like a magpie.) Kiddo exclaimed "We prayed to find it, and we did!" I was grateful that she immediately made that connection.
Babs is an odd mix of do-it-myself and you-do-it-for-me. She won't pray on her own in the evening; she expects one of her parents to feed her the lines. But, if we pray for the wrong thing, she won't say it. As we were recovering from the never-ending cold my husband prompted her, "Thank you that I'm healthy," because she was, and was about the only one right then. But, she had recently coughed, so that was not her perspective, so she changed it to "bless me that I will feel better because I'm still sick."
The Boy seems to have a special relationship with prayer. Even as a baby his behavior would often change in result of his parents fervent prayers, in a faster and different way than with the girls. (Of course, that could be because the parents are getting better at praying, but I think that's only a small part of it.) But he also loves to pray. He has folded his arms for a long time. And now he talks along with whoever is speaking. It's not uncommon for him to include at first truck noises, and now the word "truK" or "pane!" (plane). The other day as he accompanied a blessing on the food he specifically mentioned a plane. And right after one flew over our house, which he saw.
I firmly believe that was an answered prayer for my little boy. And I pointed it out as such to my family. Because surely Heavenly Father cares about my 20 month old's sincere prayer just as much as my prayers, possibly more.
Kiddo received a gift card for Christmas, but recently when we discussed using it we realized it was lost. She had taken it out of the box we put it in for safekeeping, and had packed it in one of her many bags for play one day. We prayed that we would find it, but we didn't. Many days later I was unpacking one of her bags so it could be used for something else, and there was the gift card. (Along with many, many other tiny things. That kid's like a magpie.) Kiddo exclaimed "We prayed to find it, and we did!" I was grateful that she immediately made that connection.
Babs is an odd mix of do-it-myself and you-do-it-for-me. She won't pray on her own in the evening; she expects one of her parents to feed her the lines. But, if we pray for the wrong thing, she won't say it. As we were recovering from the never-ending cold my husband prompted her, "Thank you that I'm healthy," because she was, and was about the only one right then. But, she had recently coughed, so that was not her perspective, so she changed it to "bless me that I will feel better because I'm still sick."
The Boy seems to have a special relationship with prayer. Even as a baby his behavior would often change in result of his parents fervent prayers, in a faster and different way than with the girls. (Of course, that could be because the parents are getting better at praying, but I think that's only a small part of it.) But he also loves to pray. He has folded his arms for a long time. And now he talks along with whoever is speaking. It's not uncommon for him to include at first truck noises, and now the word "truK" or "pane!" (plane). The other day as he accompanied a blessing on the food he specifically mentioned a plane. And right after one flew over our house, which he saw.
I firmly believe that was an answered prayer for my little boy. And I pointed it out as such to my family. Because surely Heavenly Father cares about my 20 month old's sincere prayer just as much as my prayers, possibly more.
Friday, April 24, 2015
running to school
I let the girls play a little too long today, and by the time we got in the car, school started in five minutes. Luckily, we only live one minute away. But another minute to walk from the place we park to the school. I encouraged Kiddo to go quickly, and I watched to make sure she got in on time.
As she ran the last distance to the door (the difference in people near the door in spring versus freezing cold winter is quite stark) I thought: She looks so little. She still is pretty small. But she's growing up a lot too. And is anxious to be grown up, but also anxious to stay little too.
I believe the thoughts in my head mirror some angst she may be feeling herself right now, about how grown up she really is... or isn't.
As she ran the last distance to the door (the difference in people near the door in spring versus freezing cold winter is quite stark) I thought: She looks so little. She still is pretty small. But she's growing up a lot too. And is anxious to be grown up, but also anxious to stay little too.
I believe the thoughts in my head mirror some angst she may be feeling herself right now, about how grown up she really is... or isn't.
Monday, April 20, 2015
hehp, hehp
My boy knows quite a few words. Mostly nouns though, and really no sentences or phrases yet. (Unless you count phrases like "all done" which qualify as one word to the baby vocabulary researchers, because it's a single idea.)
But he knows the word "help" and uses it frequently. Primarily it's because a toy isn't behaving as he believes it should and he wants help making it work (the train that connects magnetically comes to mind).
In fact, the first string of ideas I heard him connect was "Nu-no! Hehp!" asking his biggest sister for help with his toys. I love that he sees her as someone that can solve his problems. (His other sister can be quite helpful too when she chooses.)
About a month ago he learned to say both his sisters names. He calls out for them frequently when they're not at the house. And he's always willing to go in the car, especially to go get one of them.
But he knows the word "help" and uses it frequently. Primarily it's because a toy isn't behaving as he believes it should and he wants help making it work (the train that connects magnetically comes to mind).
In fact, the first string of ideas I heard him connect was "Nu-no! Hehp!" asking his biggest sister for help with his toys. I love that he sees her as someone that can solve his problems. (His other sister can be quite helpful too when she chooses.)
About a month ago he learned to say both his sisters names. He calls out for them frequently when they're not at the house. And he's always willing to go in the car, especially to go get one of them.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
faith in the plan
As we headed to our new building, to meet with our new congregation, two Sunday's ago, you could tell the kids were a bit nervous about the changes. Babs wanted to know why we were going to a different church (no, different building we emphasized). We explained that this is what happens with growth, and how we will still learn the same things, and church will feel the same.
Then Kiddo offered from the back, "Well, it's good that the plan is working, you know, the one to share the Gospel."
Yes sweetie, it sure is.
Then Kiddo offered from the back, "Well, it's good that the plan is working, you know, the one to share the Gospel."
Yes sweetie, it sure is.
Friday, January 23, 2015
sleep ninja
The other night I was kneeling by my bed, praying.
I hear my oldest daughter slip into the room quietly. She doesn't bother me while I'm praying, but just waits. I can hear her breathing behind me.
A few moments later my husband comes in, and settles into bed with a book. I think it's strange that he doesn't talk to Kiddo, but am praying, so don't spend much time worrying about it.
I finish, stand up, and turn around to talk to her. Except she's not there.
"Kiddo, get out of the closet," I order.
"How did you know I was there?" she asks as she opens the door. My husband is more than a little surprised to see her there.
"I could hear you breathing."
I don't remember which of us got to put her to bed that night. She doesn't fall asleep at night now, until around 10 or later. It's been going on for a few months, so by now we're used to her quietly creeping out of bed to come talk to us while we're doing the dishes, or sitting on the couch. But when it first started happening, she'd come so quietly, then lurk in the dark hallway, or a corner. Both parents were startled more than once.
I hear my oldest daughter slip into the room quietly. She doesn't bother me while I'm praying, but just waits. I can hear her breathing behind me.
A few moments later my husband comes in, and settles into bed with a book. I think it's strange that he doesn't talk to Kiddo, but am praying, so don't spend much time worrying about it.
I finish, stand up, and turn around to talk to her. Except she's not there.
"Kiddo, get out of the closet," I order.
"How did you know I was there?" she asks as she opens the door. My husband is more than a little surprised to see her there.
"I could hear you breathing."
I don't remember which of us got to put her to bed that night. She doesn't fall asleep at night now, until around 10 or later. It's been going on for a few months, so by now we're used to her quietly creeping out of bed to come talk to us while we're doing the dishes, or sitting on the couch. But when it first started happening, she'd come so quietly, then lurk in the dark hallway, or a corner. Both parents were startled more than once.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
things our parents do for us
We had the sister missionaries over for dinner last night. As part of their spiritual message, they asked our children what their parents do that make them happy. Babs said that we play with her. (As infrequently as we can get away with, but yes, we play with her.) Kiddo answered without guile, "They give me chores. Helping out by doing chores makes me happy." Ironically, chores do not make her happy. (Do they make any one happy?) It is in fact the quickest route to tears and shouts of "it's not fair!" Even the easy chores, the actual fun chores, are hard and left undone without some encouragement. But she believes in her heart that she wants to do chores all day long. Except that she doesn't.
***
Today Babs shouted to me "It's not fair!" about some injustice of parenting. (I believe I wouldn't let her watch TV, after she'd already watched a bunch.) I looked her in the eye "Have I ever told you life was fair?" No. "Has Daddy?" No. "Did you learn it at preschool?" No. "Good. Because life isn't fair. I need you to know that." My follow-up thought, that I'm sure she's not ready for, is for us, that's a good thing, because we have a lot more than we deserve.
***
Kiddo lost her next tooth! I pulled it after the dentist said that her three current loose teeth were all ready to go (I haven't pulled the next two yet). She has a slight missing tooth lisp. This one does not have an immediate tooth following in, so there is actually a big gap, which I'm enjoying. She luckily doesn't think about it much, because the night I pulled it, she looked in the mirror and said "Oh, this is terrible. My smile is terrible." It's not. It's adorable.
***
Today Babs shouted to me "It's not fair!" about some injustice of parenting. (I believe I wouldn't let her watch TV, after she'd already watched a bunch.) I looked her in the eye "Have I ever told you life was fair?" No. "Has Daddy?" No. "Did you learn it at preschool?" No. "Good. Because life isn't fair. I need you to know that." My follow-up thought, that I'm sure she's not ready for, is for us, that's a good thing, because we have a lot more than we deserve.
***
Kiddo lost her next tooth! I pulled it after the dentist said that her three current loose teeth were all ready to go (I haven't pulled the next two yet). She has a slight missing tooth lisp. This one does not have an immediate tooth following in, so there is actually a big gap, which I'm enjoying. She luckily doesn't think about it much, because the night I pulled it, she looked in the mirror and said "Oh, this is terrible. My smile is terrible." It's not. It's adorable.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
summer road trip to Edison
It's also awkward because despite being in the country for about four or five years now, her English is still slim. But it's okay, because all the people in her new neighborhood (she moved the same time we did) speak her same language. (Am I horrible that I'm not sure what language it is?)
We drove back to NJ to visit them this summer. She asks me to visit every summer... sometimes I don't make it. But this summer I did. It was a long day trip. I asked Kiddo to take a picture of us. Just before she clicked it I said "Wait - are our faces in the picture?" She assured me yes. And this is what we got: (faces, check. older women bellies, check.)
I brought her some of those cookies, which was basically the only thing my kids ate there because they won't eat her amazing Indian food (although I tried what she made for the kids, and it was more than a little gross...). This meant that Kiddo threw up on the way home. It was an awful mess. Luckily both the little ones were sleeping when it happened so at least I could clean up in peace. And the exit we got off on also brought us to a museum of statues, so we saw these amazing statues as we looked for a place to park (pictures of my favorite).
Will we go again? Maybe next year...
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
roadkill
Two weeks ago on the way to school there was a dead squirrel in the road, clearly the victim of an unfortunate encounter with a car. I saw it on the way to school, showed it to Babs as we came home, then Kiddo saw it as we walked home that afternoon.
"Did Babs kill it?" Kiddo asked, knowing of her hunting expeditions.
"No."
The next day, it was thankfully gone. Babs asked, "Where did my friend 'dead squirrel' go?"
Now she has a lot more respect for the consequences of being hit by a car.
And she cheers on every squirrel that makes it safely across the road.
About a week ago we saw a snake on the side of the road, also a victim as it was completely flat. That night Babs prayed all by herself, "Bless I never see a dead snake again."
"Did Babs kill it?" Kiddo asked, knowing of her hunting expeditions.
"No."
The next day, it was thankfully gone. Babs asked, "Where did my friend 'dead squirrel' go?"
Now she has a lot more respect for the consequences of being hit by a car.
And she cheers on every squirrel that makes it safely across the road.
About a week ago we saw a snake on the side of the road, also a victim as it was completely flat. That night Babs prayed all by herself, "Bless I never see a dead snake again."
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
going, going, gone (the first lost tooth)
Five months ago at her last dentist appointment, Kiddo was told that she had a number of loose teeth, and she should start wiggling. They didn't feel loose to me, but sure enough, she now has a number of loose teeth. But she doesn't wiggle them much, so they just get looser on their own.
Then one day she complained that there was something poky in her mouth. I looked, and saw a permanent teeth coming up behind her baby tooth. I told she for sure should try to wiggle that one, and we eventually saw the dentist, who said that it was no big deal and just keep at it.
But her really loose tooth was in the front. It got looser and looser, but never ready to just slip out. It was moving though, poking out in different directions and from many angles, it looked like her tooth was already gone. Numerous adults looked at the tooth, and offered to just pull it out for her. This caused Kiddo to scream and cover her mouth. There would be no pulling.
This morning she came in for breakfast crying. "What's wrong?"
"It really hurts, I'm ready to have it pulled out."
At first glance I thought it was gone, because it was caught up under her lip. So then we became serious about this.
I tugged a few times, no luck. Then I asked my husband to try (although I wasn't sure about that, because I'm the cold-blooded one when it comes to unavoidable pain in our children). He tugged once or twice, then stopped.
"Let's say a prayer," he suggested, and he then prayed for courage and that we could do it. Then he gathered Kiddo in his arms, looked at me and said "Do it."
So I got my best grip on a small slimy tooth, and tugged once or twice more, then it came. And as soon as it came out the tears stopped, and it was finished.... this round anyway.
Then one day she complained that there was something poky in her mouth. I looked, and saw a permanent teeth coming up behind her baby tooth. I told she for sure should try to wiggle that one, and we eventually saw the dentist, who said that it was no big deal and just keep at it.
But her really loose tooth was in the front. It got looser and looser, but never ready to just slip out. It was moving though, poking out in different directions and from many angles, it looked like her tooth was already gone. Numerous adults looked at the tooth, and offered to just pull it out for her. This caused Kiddo to scream and cover her mouth. There would be no pulling.
This morning she came in for breakfast crying. "What's wrong?"
"It really hurts, I'm ready to have it pulled out."
At first glance I thought it was gone, because it was caught up under her lip. So then we became serious about this.
I tugged a few times, no luck. Then I asked my husband to try (although I wasn't sure about that, because I'm the cold-blooded one when it comes to unavoidable pain in our children). He tugged once or twice, then stopped.
"Let's say a prayer," he suggested, and he then prayed for courage and that we could do it. Then he gathered Kiddo in his arms, looked at me and said "Do it."
So I got my best grip on a small slimy tooth, and tugged once or twice more, then it came. And as soon as it came out the tears stopped, and it was finished.... this round anyway.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
math class excitement
Kiddo tells me very little about school. I don't think she's hiding anything, I just don't think she has much to say about school. But a few days ago something really exciting happened in math class, exciting enough that she volunteered it as the most interesting part of the day.
"The projector for the smartboard wasn't working, so we did our math on the CHALKBOARD!"
"The projector for the smartboard wasn't working, so we did our math on the CHALKBOARD!"
Monday, September 8, 2014
I'm bored
Kiddo finally uttered the awful phrase "I'm bored!" last Saturday. Although the plan in my head for this moment had always been, "well, then, let's do some chores!" I decided to just wing it.
"How exciting!" I replied. "Boredom always comes before you come up with some interesting new thing to do. How will you stop being bored? Oh, but get your sister a drink of water before you figure this out..."
She did not think this was exciting, but did get Babs a drink of water.
"I have something I'd like to do..." she started.
"What's that?"
"Could I watch something?" she cautiously asked. I couldn't restrain myself.
"What a great idea! Babs is right here! You can watch her, she's funny." This made Kiddo laugh, but she didn't want to watch Babs. "The Boy?" I offered, "He's pretty cute..." Then my good husband walked in the door. "Dad!" I called out. "You can watch Dad!"
Once she stopped laughing she said "You know what I want to watch."
"Yes, and I'm going to need you to say it."
I did let her watch TV after all that work she put in to see it.
"How exciting!" I replied. "Boredom always comes before you come up with some interesting new thing to do. How will you stop being bored? Oh, but get your sister a drink of water before you figure this out..."
She did not think this was exciting, but did get Babs a drink of water.
"I have something I'd like to do..." she started.
"What's that?"
"Could I watch something?" she cautiously asked. I couldn't restrain myself.
"What a great idea! Babs is right here! You can watch her, she's funny." This made Kiddo laugh, but she didn't want to watch Babs. "The Boy?" I offered, "He's pretty cute..." Then my good husband walked in the door. "Dad!" I called out. "You can watch Dad!"
Once she stopped laughing she said "You know what I want to watch."
"Yes, and I'm going to need you to say it."
I did let her watch TV after all that work she put in to see it.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
three sweet kids
Yesterday we watched "Frozen," including the credits. At the end, they list "production babies." I thought one name was way crazy, and exclaimed about it. Kiddo quietly added, "And one was named Wednesday. But let's not tell the people who made the movie, and let's not make fun of the baby."
We also fed the sister missionaries. At one point, when Babs thought the attention had been on someone else long enough, announced, "So Girls," and waited until she had the missionaries attention, "well, I've finally got my own scriptures."
Earlier, I was shopping with Babs and the Boy, holding him on my hip, facing out, so I could focus on what I was buying. It turns out that he was smiling at everyone, with that perfect gummy grin that comes with this age. I could tell because everyone that walked by commented on it, or suddenly laughed in that i've-just-been-loved-by-a-baby sort of way.
We also fed the sister missionaries. At one point, when Babs thought the attention had been on someone else long enough, announced, "So Girls," and waited until she had the missionaries attention, "well, I've finally got my own scriptures."
Earlier, I was shopping with Babs and the Boy, holding him on my hip, facing out, so I could focus on what I was buying. It turns out that he was smiling at everyone, with that perfect gummy grin that comes with this age. I could tell because everyone that walked by commented on it, or suddenly laughed in that i've-just-been-loved-by-a-baby sort of way.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
we're braver when we're together
Yesterday, Kiddo and Babs chose to watch a potentially scary My Little Pony episode (especially if you're my children). They sat next to each other on the couch, sharing my husband's Kindle.
"Let's not be scared," Kiddo suggested.
She amended her idea, "But let's cuddle close together in case we are."
When I walked by a while later, they were huddled next to each other with Babs' arm around Kiddo's shoulder.
***
They still don't like our basement. They rarely go down by themselves, and never just to hang out there. If one of them needs to go down there, she enlists the other to be her safety. They only play there if someone else is there. But I love what Kiddo says each time they boldly venture down the stairs, "We're braver when we're together!"
(But truthfully, they're getting better. Perhaps by next year they'll be able to handle it on their own, who knows?)
"Let's not be scared," Kiddo suggested.
She amended her idea, "But let's cuddle close together in case we are."
When I walked by a while later, they were huddled next to each other with Babs' arm around Kiddo's shoulder.
***
They still don't like our basement. They rarely go down by themselves, and never just to hang out there. If one of them needs to go down there, she enlists the other to be her safety. They only play there if someone else is there. But I love what Kiddo says each time they boldly venture down the stairs, "We're braver when we're together!"
(But truthfully, they're getting better. Perhaps by next year they'll be able to handle it on their own, who knows?)
Thursday, February 20, 2014
surprise!
Kiddo and Babs like to hide (in the same four places), wait for someone to come by, and jump out and yell "Surprise!" It is never a surprise because they are always there, and they are usually visible. This has been going on for a very long time. At first I indulged them, now I acknowledge them, but not always in a supportive way. (I once replied to their hiding behind the door in the entry way with "you know what would be a surprise? If you actually put on your shoes like I asked you to.") I keep waiting for this phase to be over, but that may never happen.
Despite the joy of surprising others, they hate to be surprised, so there is now a rule that you can only surprise mom or dad, not each other.
They used to hide between their beds, in plain view where I could see them as I walked in the door. "Hey Kiddo" I would casually say. One day she sincerely asked, "How do you know I'm there?" My first response was, how could I not know you're there? but I didn't say that because she seemed truly perplexed. I paused to think about it and then realized, I'm over a foot taller than both of them. I called her over to her doorway, and lifted her up so she was looking from my perspective. "Now do you know how I know you're there?" And she understood. When she came into the room, she couldn't see between the beds, so it seemed like a good hiding place to her. (I then showed her that if she laid on her side next to Babs' bed I actually couldn't see her, so she's there pretty often.)
The ironic part of the never ending game of surprise is that when the house is dark, and we think they are all asleep, Kiddo is the master of silent movement. She silently pads from her bed to wherever we are, and if we're lucky, we see her before she stands still waiting to be noticed in the shadowy corner. Both my husband and I have been seriously startled by these events more than once, enough to scare her by our responses (man-ly yelps and all).
Despite the joy of surprising others, they hate to be surprised, so there is now a rule that you can only surprise mom or dad, not each other.
They used to hide between their beds, in plain view where I could see them as I walked in the door. "Hey Kiddo" I would casually say. One day she sincerely asked, "How do you know I'm there?" My first response was, how could I not know you're there? but I didn't say that because she seemed truly perplexed. I paused to think about it and then realized, I'm over a foot taller than both of them. I called her over to her doorway, and lifted her up so she was looking from my perspective. "Now do you know how I know you're there?" And she understood. When she came into the room, she couldn't see between the beds, so it seemed like a good hiding place to her. (I then showed her that if she laid on her side next to Babs' bed I actually couldn't see her, so she's there pretty often.)
The ironic part of the never ending game of surprise is that when the house is dark, and we think they are all asleep, Kiddo is the master of silent movement. She silently pads from her bed to wherever we are, and if we're lucky, we see her before she stands still waiting to be noticed in the shadowy corner. Both my husband and I have been seriously startled by these events more than once, enough to scare her by our responses (man-ly yelps and all).
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