Piapie

Ten Lines

Guess who has the lead in her class play?  That's right!  My girl.  It is, admittedly, a kindergarten class play about a goat herder and which will probably last 7 minutes from start to finish, but still...she got the lead!  She recognizes that this as something of which to be proud.  She noted that she has ten lines where everyone else has one or two.  She goes on stage first and gets off last.  Her lines are in both English and Mandarin.  It's pretty cool, especially listening to her in bed rehearsing her lines in a language I understand not at all.

Willpower

Willpower.  She's got it.  She's not necessarily willful in the rigid, temper-tantruming terror sort of a way.   In fact, she's more of a go-with-the-flow kind of kid, as many seconds are.  But she does have that "stick to your guns" type of willpower.  The ability to endure or tolerate something in order to achieve a goal. 

Over the past few months I have been discovering and been impressed by this strength of hers.  Most recently we were talking about vaccinations.  She does not cry when being given one.  She doesn't even flinch.  She can even take two or three in a row and not crack under the repeated assault.  I find this remarkable because I am pretty much terrified of needles.  I asked her if vaccinations hurt and she replied that indeed they do  So I then asked her why she doesn't cry when she gets them.  Her answer: "I want to get my treat."

Willpower.  She has more of it than I.  And it will take her places, I am sure of it.

P.S.  I'd give her chocolate brownies after a visit to the pediatrician even if she cried the whole time.  Just don't tell  her that!

Karate Monkey

I think that she was pretending to be a bird but all I can think of is Ralph Macchio as Daniel LaRusso. 

Have a good weekend!

From Polka Dots to Tea Leaves

 With birthdays come birthday sweaters.  Last year I knit MonkE this thing:

I had long admired it in the Rowan Babies by Kim Hargreaves and realized that we were soon going to size out of the patterns in the book.  So I pulled out the number 3s and knit it up only to sew in yet another ridiculous number of loose ends. 

I love it.  And I am so happy that I made it extra big so that she'll get to wear it for a long time.  But I swore to myself that I wasn't going to do another intarsia sweater for the next birthday.  Nor would I knit anything that required needles smaller than size US 6.  For once I kept my promises to myself.  This year I went with the easy peasy, ever popular Tea Leaves cardigan: 

 

It knit up so fast (one week!) that I immediately found yarn to make one for FunkyB.  Sometimes it's best to not delay gratification.

Ten from the Trip

...down to where the trees grow tall.  

 

The Trumpet of the Swan

We recently finished reading The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White.  After the usual bedtime stories and hugs and kisses, we'd turn out the light and by the glow of Edwin (the ladybug night light) I'd read a chapter from the book.  Funky B listened intently, absorbing the plot while MonkE rolled around in her bunk like a puppy making it's bed, finally settling in sideways (?!?!?).  A rather nice way to end the day.

I have been pleasantly impressed with how much of the story Funky B remembers and understands from the previous nights.  I have also been touched with how the story has filtered into her art and her play.  

Last week we were out enjoying the sunshine, running around, and watching the ducks and geese.  Eventually both girls settled in beside me and we all became somewhat mesmerized by the waterfowl.  A particularly large flock of Canada Geese flew overhead.  Sun warmed our faces.  A breeze knocked loose the last few yellow leaves off a tree.  Funky B leaned in and whispered that we should pretend the geese were Trumpet Swans and that we were like Sam Beaver, quietly watching the cygnets hatch.  She rested her head on my shoulder, wrapped her hand in mine, and said, "It's magical, isn't it Mama?"

Yes, my dear.  You are.

Animals in the Garden

The other day I went out into the garden and found some animals lurking there.   Under normal circumstances I might have been upset to see wild creatures tramping across the raised beds.  But the giraffe was so lovely and sweet.  And I was sure that the leopard would make me smile if only I could get it to stay still. 

 I had to sneak up on that leopard, catch it off guard to get a good look at it's eyes.  They told me not to be afraid.

Off she ran.  I was left there smiling.

Hungry Honey

The other night, after reading stories and getting tucked into bed, MonkE began to call out, "Mama!  Mama!  Maaaaamaaaaaa!".  In fear that the noise wake the sleeping giant on the top bunk, I scurried to the room, I slipped my head in to her bunk and asked what was wrong.

She said, "Hunney."  

"No, kiddo.  We are not having honey now.  It's bedtime." (Why is she asking for honey?  What does she think she's going to get, a spoonful of honey?!?!)

"Hunney."

"No.  We already brushed teeth.  Now go to sleep."

"Huuunnneeey."

"No.  It's bedtime."

"FOOD!"

"Oh!  'Hungry'  OK, let's go into the kitchen."  (Recall the burrito she snarfed at dinner.  Experience an 'Ah hah' moment and file 'growth spurt' in my brain.  Ponder why they can just stay the way they are.)

Really, why do they have to grow up?

Thanksgiving 2010

There are so very many things for which I am grateful,

not the least of which is the way these two make me laugh:

Dinner must be ready!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  

May you all feast well amongst good company.

Marker Make-Up

Some of you may remember the story behind this:

For those that missed out or don't remember, the story can be found here.   The lesson learned from that pile of orange paint was to not turn my back on MonkE for more than 28 seconds.  

It seems that I have forgotten that lesson.

Thank goodness for washable markers!