Sewing

More on developments in purposeful, imaginative play later. For now, a brief episode from tonight.

The scene: Mommy and daddy's room. A rocking chair with a small pillow for back support.

The players: Tadpole, Daddy.

The time: just before bedtime. Teeth have been brushed, pajamas donned. All is in readiness for a final story and climb into bed.

Tadpole: <grabs pillow> "I'm going to take this for bedtime.

Daddy: "No, that's mommy's pillow. Leave it please."

Tadpole: <screaming>

Daddy: (terrified, quiet) "shhh ... We just put your sister in her crib. You have to be quiet."

Enter Mommy.  Discussion ensues. Mommy clarifies that the pillow is Tadpole's, has been on a long-term loan.

Mommy: "You were so nice to let me keep the pillow. May I continue to use it?"

Tadpole: "No."

Mommy: "But it helps my back."

Tadpole: "No."

Daddy: "Without the pillow, mommy's back really hurts. Can she use it?"

Tadpole: <sets down pillow>. <goes to bed, picks up a full size pillow from the bed>. <deposits on chair>. <proudly reclaims original small pillow>. "You use that one mommy."

Mommy: (giggling). "OK kiddo. Thank you.  Are you saying I need to make a new pillow?"

Tadpole: "Daddy, tomorrow when you are making coffee and milk, I'm going to be sewing mommy a new pillow."

Daddy: "Oh?"

Tadpole: "Yes. I'm going to do the sewing, but not the pins part because pins are sharp. Mommy can you do the pins part and I will do the sewing when daddy makes coffee?"

All: <dissolves into happy giggles, hugs>. "I love you."

Magic Babies

I don't talk about Sprout much (yet) - R is still definitely primary parent, and Sprout still mostly eats and sleeps, but she's distinguishing herself in a few ways:

Sprout LOVES being outside. Not necessarily when she's in a stroller, but when we're just holding her, she loves taking in the outside.  To the point that when she's upset, I just walk outside with  her for a few minutes and she's happy again.  (Magic!)

Tadpole had a "Magic Song" that immediately calmed her down and helped her get to sleep. (Rosanna, by Toto, which I never want to hear again).  Sprout has one too: Counting Stars from One Republic. It's not quite as magical as Rosanna was, but it's pretty effective.

We went to a birthday party at the Morton Arboretum for one of Tadpole's classmates recently (awesome!) and Sprout was awake for most of it (and outside!), and happily looking around.  She was awesome.

We also practiced taking milk from a bottle today. Unlike Tadpole, Sprout likes it warm, but after that, she was pretty content.

A single raindrop

We were out for a walk with Tadpole a few days ago when she got a scrape on her ankle. (Turns out that I did have a reason to tell you to stay on the sidewalk and not stumble through the garden kiddo.)

Tadpole is not a fan of owies, and she did not like the idea of cleaning it when we got home.  But after a few minutes of whining about that pronouncement, she quieted down and went back to tricycling.

It was blocks later when she announced that a thunderstorm was coming (clear blue sky notwithstanding ... after all, we'd had one a few days before, so thunderstorms were in the air).  And it was many minutes after that when she announced that she'd felt a raindrop.

You will not be surprised to learn that the raindrop from the thunderstorm landed on her ankle.  It cleaned her ankle and the scrape.  We would not have to clean the owie when we got home, although we could still put a band-aid on it.

The protests when we vetoed that line of logic we're more impressive than the first round.

How long do they stay three?

Two anecdotes

We took the girls out to a park and Ice Cream yesterday. On the way home, Sprout (3 months) began loudly explaining that she was hungry and tired of being in her car seat.  Tadpole decided to comfort her sister:

Sprout, if you would like to watch the Cars movie when we get home, you need to refrain from whining.

R and I sat stunned for a moment, then laughed. Encouraged, Tadpole continued.

And what do we say to that? Mind Blown!!

At the end of dinner, Tadpole was doing "Rock and Roll" fingers. Somehow these also became a phone to discuss her schoolwork on.

Ring, Ring. Oh hello Rock and Roll. I traced sandpaper letters with [classmate] today.

Me: hello Tadpole. What letters did you trace.

No, Rock and Roll, I don't want to talk about school anymore. I'm just going to be quiet.

Thunderstorms

We had a thunderstorm tonight. The 3 month old fell asleep before it started, and the three-year-old ended up falling asleep while mommy sat with her.

Walking home from the park, Tadpole asked about thunderstorms, and we went a little bit Magic School Bus in our explanation: we showed her the grey clouds and talked about how water up there was joining into little water droplets, which would turn into raindrops and fall down.  And how the grass (and our garden!) really wanted that water.  I don't think we got into root systems, but we did talk a bit about lightning, charges separating, and electricity jumping between the clouds and the ground.  I talked about how that made a lot of energy and the thunder was part of that energy.  R talked about about how the thunder was the lightning saying 'hi'.  (Aside - myths, folktales, and kids stories seem less silly now that I'm a parent)

Tadpole ate it up.  She asked us to tell the story of the thunderstorms at least three times, and filled in words and phrases as we went on.  This was exciting and a way to use words and things.

And then we went inside and she said "I don't like the thunderstorm because it's loud and scary."

Yep, kiddo, it is.  We can tell you stories and use words and reassure you that you're safe and talk about being in a brick house which is the one that the big bad wolf can't even blow down, but at the end of the day lightning and thunder are scary.  And thinking about them is scary.  And maybe in the moment we can watch them together and have fun with that so that you have a not-scary experience of thunderstorms.  But for now, while you're three, words and stories and experiences are very, very far apart, and I'm not going to keep you up until 10:30 to watch the lightning and laugh together and process the experience.  But I will hold you and hug you, whenever you let me.

Unrelated aside - at bedtime, I was singing "Somewhere over the Rainbow" and Tadpole informed me that:
"Soon we're going to get a rainbow"
"Really?"
"Yes.  We're going to get it in a package from Amazon.  We're going to get two packages from Amazon and one will have a rainbow in it and the other one will have other things."

So also there's that.

Two anecdotes

We took the girls out to a park and Ice Cream yesterday. On the way home, Sprout (3 months) began loudly explaining that she was hungry and tired of being in her car seat.  Tadpole decided to comfort her sister:

Sprout, if you would like to watch the Cars movie when we get home, you need to refrain from whining.

R and I sat stunned for a moment, then laughed. Encouraged, Tadpole continued.

And what do we say to that? Mind Blown!!

At the end of dinner, Tadpole was doing "Rock and Roll" fingers. Somehow these also became a phone to discuss her schoolwork on.

Ring, Ring. Oh hello Rock and Roll. I traced sandpaper letters with [classmate] today.

Me: hello Tadpole. What letters did you trace.

No, Rock and Roll, I don't want to talk about school anymore. I'm just going to be quiet.

We should all be Type A

Tadpole discovered the story of the three little pigs recently.  In our story, the little piggy with the brick house is Type A.  Much like mommy.  At the end of the story, Tadpole announced:

"I'm a bit Type A."

"Really?"

"Yeah.  Just like mommy."

"So you like having everything just so?"

"Yes!"

[silence]

"Everybody should be Type A!"

OK kiddo. We'll talk about work-life balance when you're older.