Hello, happy Wednesday. Lucy and Lily are playing, nicely but not especially quietly, in the living room, and Ed is in (though not down and certainly not out) for a nap in his room. I'm left to tackle a monster to-do list, including "bake bread" and "write a play." It might be a busy day!
A couple cute, quick kid stories to share. We were at the pool last Friday and Lucy took one glance at a large and active water-aerobics class and asked "Mama, what are those grandmas doing?"
Lucy, also, has had an explosion of writing. A couple weeks ago I was very surprised to see that she'd written the first 5 letters of the alphabet on her chalkboard. She continued to write through J, when I took a picture, and kept on until T when she lost interest. Occasionally she needed teensy reminders of what letter came next, and I think she skipped N, but overall she was totally doing it. A few days later, we got a note from ECFE saying that, for Valentine's Day, Lucy should make a Valentine for the other 11 kids in her class. They gave the option of letting your child cut-and-paste the other kids' names from a sheet of paper, OR have your kid write (or play-write) the other kids' names, or simply draw each other child a picture of some sort. You could get store-bought cards, or make them, or whatever you want. ANYWAY, for Lucy, this simple assignment was nothing short of a communication revolution. She spent just about every waking moment for the next week making cards, envelopes, and letters for everybody she knows. We made Valentine cards for all the kids in her class, the teachers, and our immediate relatives. (Auntie Jamie got one that said "Paper Glue School" because Lucy was fascinated with the words on the glue bottle at the moment.) We made dozens of cards for Daddy. We made piles of other cards for everybody else Lucy could think of (and if you didn't get one, it's because it got lost in the resulting paper avalanche). Her ECFE teachers remarked that she had to be dragged out of the writing-table for snack time. The girl was obsessed.
It's been amazing watching her start to realize the new things you can do when you can read. For example, once you can tell an "L" from an "R", you can totally be the Spinner for Twister (even if your legs aren't quite long enough to have Right Foot on Red while still keeping Left Foot on Green). And she can tell which mail is for her, versus those for Eddie, Megan, or Joel. But Lucy is still the first one to remind us "I'm only FOUR!" if we ask her something too challenging.
Then there's Ed. Sweet and charming as can be. "Flat this out!" means he wants you to lay his blanket flat on the floor so he can sit in the middle of it and be wrapped up like a Baby Dumbo bundle from the stork. "Flat of a board!" means he wants to lay flat ("AS a board") on the ground for you to pick him up. And last week I presented him with a bowl of minestrone soup, of which he took one bite and made a horrid face. "What a face, Ed!" I said, to which he responded, "I said "oh, brother!" with my eyes."
We've come to a peaceful agreement about what to do about school for Lucy next year -- basically we've applied to the St Paul 4-year-old program and if we don't get in, we have two great backup options that we're happy about. A big chunk of me wonders whether I shouldn't keep my baby girl at home with me for one more year... then there's the chunk that struggles to challenge her burgeoning brain around the house. Then there's a third part that wonders if I oughtn't pay for a nice 3-year-old program for Ed, and enjoy some serious time to myself? To write, or teach dance, or something. It's pretty tempting but not something we've given serious thought to.
OK I really have to go do some work around here. Cheers...