flea

Waiting worriedly for a package.

Meat is browned for the boeuf; mr. flea ran out for beef stock (oops) and camehome with Cherry Lambic (yay!) (in addition to beef stock.)

Have achieved Gingerbread House; it needed Grandma's artistic hand, but oh well. Amusing photo sequence of the tears of childhood starts here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/casperflea/3133307711/

Dillo is watching Totoro for the 3rd time in as many days; he loves it. "Huuuuuuuuuge mouse!"

Dillo after watching the last episode of Avatar: "Avatar loves Katara."

Casper last night, after realizing I knew she'd been stealing candy canes off the tree, keeping them under her bed, and eating them: "Let me tell you how I did it! I pretend to go to the bathroom, then sneak under the table, then go in the living room, and take one off the tree, and put it in my shirt, like this, and come back to my room and out it under my bed!" Such innocence & joy at her sneakiness!

Conversation last night in Dillo's bed:

Dillo: What's that Max over there? [looking at Maurice Sendak art on the wall]
Me: Oh, Max from the Wild Things? Do you know Max? [we own the book but have not read it to Dillo, as far as I can recall; in fact I am not sure where it is right now]
Dillo: Jenn read it [note: present tense] at school!
Me: Did you gnash your terrible teeth and stamp your terrible deet?
Dillo: Terrible eyes!

I love love love the communication and the spicy little person brains. I told mr. flea about this exchange on our way to work this morning, and Dillo added comments from the back seat like, "Max not scared of Wild Things!" and "Be still!"

Crying from the living room. Both children are in there. I ask, "What's wrong?" Dillo answers, "I hit Casper!"

He hasn't yet figured out that he's supposed to hide it when he does something he knows is wrong. He'd whacked her on the head with a frisbee, for no reason. We're having a lot of hitting; I get hit (closed fist even) when I make him stop nursing and he doesn't want to yet. This earns him his Daddy instead of me.

My bunnies came by for a dinner picnic on the lawn outside my building. It's my first Sunday and I was told it might be boring but so far so good. I have had reasonably steady questions and I brought a book (because you exhaust the internet in 8 hours on the desk!)

Dillo's been talking lately at bedtime about things that are gonna get him. Don't leave me! Daddy bumblebee gonna get me! Lion gonna get me! Alligator gonna get me! I always tell him that he is safe in his house and mommy and daddy don't let lions or alligators come in. Last night he was falling asleep in the car, quietly talking to himself, and he said, "Penny [our cat] and the angry cats won't get me. I safe in the car." I repeated it to mr. flea and we both keeled over from the cute, and also the idea of a punk rock band called Penny and the Angry Cats. Penny is a rather angry cat, as cats go. Or at least, a cat who is very wary of and defensive around children, which amounts to the same thing in Dillo's eyes.

Dillo seems to be a cat person, though; we visit the pet store on grocery store days, and he always talks to the kitties, while Casper goes for the puppies. Today, mr. flea reports, she got into the pen with the puppies!

than listening to your two year old say, "i-po-poh-mom-us." While you make them out of pink play-doh for him.

Yesterday Dillo was 23 months old.

As I stepped out of the shower in the morning, he looked at me and said, "Wet nursie!" A moment later as I bent to dry my ankle, he said, "Wet poo-poo butt!"

He's such a boy. A dear boy.

So, I was having trouble falling back asleep at 12:30 am (I have been drinking too much coffee).

eye, nose, mouth, chin, neck, arm, hand, leg, knee, toe, bottom
hat, shoe, sock, pants, coat, other
yellow, blue, pink
car, train, airplane, boat, truck, bike, bus, school bus
cat, meow, dog, dognoise, bunny, hop, giraffe, cow, horse, piggy
avocado, banana, apple, applesauce, milk, more
stool, potty, spoon, door, window, movie, tv, flower
up, down, mommy, daddy, Casper's name, stop
nnnnnnnnnnnO!
bye bye, hello (also used to mean telephone), night night, scoot down, other side
run, swing

Casper came home sick from school yesterday afternoon; she threw up. Except she said she threw up on the playground, but Mrs. B said she threw up in the bathroom, and she got everything cleaned up and changed all by herself, and she was jumping up and down and happy. When mr. flea unwrapped the dirty clothes he found that her shoes were wet, her underpants were soaked, and her dress was barely wet - a pattern much more like a pee accident than vomiting. When confronted she fessed up; I guess she was embarrassed enough to lie about it. Mrs. B was very surprised to hear she had been deceived when mr. flea talked to her, though you'd think the puddle of pee in the bathroom that nobody would own up to would have been a clue.

mr. flea also talked to Mrs. B about Casper's future education and whether she would be better staying in a Montessori classroom (which would mean private school) or transitioning to a traditional classroom. Mrs. B said that as she was so intelligent (I have a tendency to take this for granted, and must remember it) she had a good chance of struggling with boredom in traditional classes, but so far she hasn't seemed to grasp the self-motivation to learn of the Montessori method - she doesn't seem to realize she can go at her own pace. Mrs. B also said she likes the and-on work the most. If we remember that she is 4, it's hardly surprising that hands-on work is most fun and she is more interested in play than in progress. I was an excellent student in a traditional school setting, and was fortunate enough, after 4th grade, to attend public and then private schools where I was among intellectual peers and not held back by boredom, but one of the sadnesses for me about my education was that I was generally externally-motivated rather than self-motivated. To some extent this predates my schooling I think and is a result of my personality and parenting, but to some extent I think it is a feature of traditional schools for many children. So today I'll call the Athens Montessori and ask about spaces. It may not be an option, but we should at least investigate.

Dillo has, perhaps a little belatedly, hit the 18 month old cling and whine phase. He cries a lot when I leave for work; this afternoon I could hear him halfway across the Kroger when I took off after some rice cakes. (Incidentally, it is our week to provide snack (fruit/veg plus carb/protein) for 20 kids daily at Casper's (public) school. It's kind of expensive to provide fig newtons, rice cakes, apples and such for 20 kids.) The last two nights, if he'd had his druthers, he would have spent the entire night with my breast in his mouth. As it was he was up every 2 hours (which did lead to the amusing "Up mama dada!" comment he made at 5:30 am. We wrangled him back down.)

We're having incredible wind now, but before it got bad we spent a couple hours yesterday afternoon and this morning outside, enjoying what is basically spring weather. It will freeze tonight, but we've got blooming daffodils in the early spots. I have started my ineffectual shrub-pruning. Maybe this year I will buy a ladder; my mother sent me $100 for no reason this week...

Casper has been full of good energy with all this outside-ness; in inside news, we borrowed a disc of Looney Tunes, all Bugs Bunny, from the library and she thinks it is very silly. In not very pleasant news, she pooped in her underpants Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday after school, while with Beth the after-school care person, playing outside. And Saturday morning started the day by peeing in an upholstered chair for no apparent reason, probably ruining it. I think we're going to take her in to see Dr. Betty; although I suppose it's possible there's some physiological reason for all of this, I kind of doubt it. In any case Dr. Betty may be helpful. I would attribute some of it to Beth giving notice, but it's been building up for a while. (For after school care, it's looking like the Y, which seems good and is a good deal financially, though the transportation is an issue.)

And they fight a lot. Squabbling right now. She pushed and yells, he whaps. We separate them. Repeat. I'm tired after this weekend, but I so wanted to stay up to watch the Jennifer Ehle Pride & Prejudice...

Casper is sleeping on the cat's pillow-bed in the corner of the living room, where she built a nest for herself this afternoon.

mr. flea and I were working on getting the networked computers to talk to each other, and Casper was, we thought, playing with her doll house dining room and assorted residents on the table. She came in to tell us that she had just put her brother to bed (we thought he was already there). She said she went in and found him standing up looking out from the crib so she climbed in (I didn't know she could do this but mr. flea did) and told him to lie down on his pillow and put his blanket over him and gave him his Uglydoll and pulled the string on the music-maker and told him to go to sleep, and he did. mr. flea later checked and found he was indeed as she had described, facing opposite to the way he had put him down. Do you think we could teach her to do this every night? In any case it bodes well for the possibility of them sharing a room or a bed in future.

Today we went to the pool, at the city rec center, where we'd never been. It's pretty decent, $2 each for city residents (Dillo free) and they have decent open swim hours. Obviously not crowded as it is winter and a holiday weekend at that. Dillo was afraid of the water for a long time but ultimately got used to it. Casper continues to think she can swim but in fact she can only vaguely dogpaddle when held up, will not put her face in the water, and cannot use a kickboard. They have very well-priced swim lessons, so perhaps that will help move her forward; signup for the next lot is Jan. 14 (not to self!)

Emmett is doing basketball and I asked Casper if she'd like to also. In light of the fact that they would be in different sessions (as he is five and she is 4 and it can never work out between them) she opted no, saying she'd rather do soccer. So must keep an eye on when the reputedly good league starts spring sessions (we missed fall by finding out too late). Note to self: ask Stephanie's mum.

Tomorrow we may go to the zoo, although if it rains Monday may be a better day. I hope it is a good one; I find all zoos rather depressing but from the maps it looks like a decent one. Can't possibly be as depressing as the Athens zoo, which is essentially what zoos were in about 1950s US I think.

Dillo seems to be developing by leaps and bounds lately - he is just so tuned and and understands so much and communicates so well (despite poor pronunciation - but once you know that "boo" means "cow" you're good.) Such a big little noodle person.

He was terrified of the carousel at the mall the other day - literally trembling in fear until I took him off the horse and just held him in my arms. He is slow to adapt to new things; slower than Casper was at any rate.

Moxie, for one, calls 18 months a very difficult time - I think meaning there is a lot of clinginess and frustration at lack of communication, and the start of honest-to-god whining - but I love it for the language leaping process and the deeper and truer glimpses one gets of who the little person really is.

Here is my little person (remember, "boo" means cow, I couldn't get him to say kitty, which sounds like "gee", and "mine" is fairly well-articulated):