[A post from the past. Explanation here.]
19 May 2010. Sylvan, age 4 2/3, and Julie, a bit older:
Julie: “That donut looks so good. What’s it filled with?”
Sylvan (clearly not wanting to share; deadpan delivery): “Ticks.”
Plus, I licked my fingers. And you're a vegetarian anyway, right?
[A post from the past. Explanation here.]
7 November 2010. Sylvan, age 5: “We’re going to get lots of stuff, and put it somewhere for a really long time, and it’s going to turn into [hushed voice] A ROCK.”
Lobster shirt -- check. Kid harness -- check. Green socks -- check. Ready to climb!
[A post from the past. Explanation here.]
18 September 2010. Sylvan, age 5: “Dad, if you sit in that booster seat, you’ll turn like a hinge.”
1 Oct 2010. Sylvan, age 5: “Is a turkey vulture’s wingspan louder than banging on wood?”
5 November 2010. Sylvan, age 5: [eating Lemonheads candy from Halloween]: “Dark blue tastes like sour lots of sugar.”
"You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss... your lips."
[A post from the past. Explanation here.]
20 July 2010. Sylvan, age 4 2/3, and Julie:
Julie: “What would my Roller Derby name be?.”
Sylvan: “Bushy Run.”
Julie: “Why?”
Sylvan: “Because you’re like a fox.”
Also, because you're fast and strong. Like a fox.
“Who is Clive?” read the note that was in Elena’s mailbox at school last week.
“You may be wondering why you have a ‘Winnie the Pooh’ bag hanging on your child’s hook! That bag is the traveling home for our classroom friend, Clive.”
And so began the adventure. Clive has been traveling home with children at the kids’ preschool since 2000. He has been all over the world: South Africa, Taiwan, Disneyland, and all over Eugene and Springfield. Children take turns hosting Clive, introducing him to friends and family, and taking him on adventures.
When Clive returns to school, the children talk about his latest adventures during circle time.
Today was Elena’s day to host Clive, and to take him on adventures.
We started with a trip to the store. We needed some cheese!
Hmm, Montzarella? Cheddar? Maybe some smoked gouda?
Then it was off to Edison School to pick up big brother Sylvan! (Fair warning: there are lots of exclamation points in this adventure.)
Waiting for Sylvan to finish his day at kindergarten. Someday soon I'll get to go to this big kid school too.
We traveled in style to our next destination….
Clive, where's your helmet?
… the playground!
Clive is HEAVY.
Zoom!
Then it was off to Sylvan’s karate class, where Clive brushed up on his equestrian skills.
Is that your saddle horn, or...
Whew! It was an exhausting day!
Close your eyes, Clive. Good night!
P.S. Not shown: Clive and Elena watching a Princess Movie(!!!!!!) while Mommy makes dinner. No photographs of this alleged event are known to exist, and Mommy will deny that it ever happened. She is a Good Mommy, after all. Isn’t she? Good night, Mommy.
[A post from the past. Explanation here.]
16 May 2010. Sylvan, age 4 1/2: “Elena, come on! Let’s save the day!”
This is what we do *after* we save the day.
[This is the first of many posts that I have accumulated in a giant pile of things to post. They will be events and photos from the past, sometimes from many years ago, that I just didn’t get around to posting. I’ll try to date all of them. Most of them are things that one of the kids said. We write these things down on a piece of paper that lives on the refrigerator door. Consider this a visit to our kitchen.]
6 May 2010. Sylvan, age 4 1/2: “We’re going to Mars. If we smell a bad smell, it might be Martians.”
Clothes? We don't need clothes to go to Mars.
“I’ll never have a cell phone” slowly turned into “Well, unless I could get an iPhone. Those things are pretty nice” and then into “I’m going on this long trip by myself. I should probably get a cell phone. You can’t find a pay phone anymore, for one thing.”
A long-lost Best Buy $10 gift card from a friend turned into a Wire-style burner phone, then a little trip to tip-land turned that into this:
Julie joins the 21st century. And not a moment too soon.
We found this vertebra in our dining room. Chris stepped on it in his sock feet, which was a bit surprising. We have no idea how it got there. We do have a cat, and she’s interested in small animals, but this bone is actually too big to have been part of a mouse; and I would expect Tephra to leave a slimy organ underfoot rather than a lovely bone with no trace of meat on it (My cat Tiger left organs; I think I only once stepped barefoot on a liver, but that was enough.).
I’m considering starting Science Fridays with my kids—and hoping that NPR doesn’t take me to task for use of the idea. This afternoon, I’m planning to take them to the Science Factory, because it’s quite cold and wet here in Eugene today (snowflakes this morning! winter storm warning at the pass!), and our membership to the Museum of Natural and Cultural History gets us into the Science Factory (and a slew of other fun places) for free.
Other Fridays, I’d like to set up some experiments and science activities. Sylvan, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog, only chooses non-fiction books from his school library. One such book was of science experiments done with items most households already have (string, ice, and salt, for instance; or dish soap, water, and paper). I just found another good resource, Scientific American’s Bring Science Home page. They add an activity every week, and the supply lists look straightforward. Some activities look messy, others fun, many simple enough for my 6-year-old to carry out and understand, and others too obscure for most grown-ups (banana DNA). We’ll try out some Science Friday activities and experiments, from Bring Science Home and the library, and we’ll keep you updated with blog posts and photos.
Dear Elena,
I glimpsed my future today, and my knees trembled a bit. Daddy and I had a conference with your preschool teacher. I went in without any concerns; unlike some parents, I don’t expect you to learn all your letters or start long division in preschool. I do expect you to become better at sharing, expressing your feelings, and cooperating. Unfortunately, that’s not the way it’s progressing at the moment. You had to be removed from the lunch table today because you were trying to put an orange peel on your friend’s plate. When you were asked to stop, you refused.
We’ve noticed that stubborn streak at home, too. After I removed you from the couch for jumping on it the other day, you smiled sweetly at me and jumped on the couch again. Before you entered preschool, I joked that you were socially ready for Kindergarten: you shared well and played with others. Now, though, you’ve started hitting your friends if they’re in your space.
Elena in Grampa Dick's clothes. That makes this cute little tailored number about 65 years old!
Now, I’m not worried that you’ll keep hitting your friends. But I can see the social butterfly with a silly, stubborn streak causing a ruckus in Kindergarten—and an even bigger ruckus in 7th grade. Ruckus-maker, I’m not ready! I have to prepare.
It’s just that I think of you as easy: a pleasure to be with, easy to please, happy in the morning, with the ability to make everyone laugh. But you are three. Time to test out those parents and teachers, you say, and find out what they’re made of.
I love you, Miss.
Love,
Mommy
Elena being gentle with her new cousin, King George. Or Dominic.