Two and a half

Dench,

You are two! And a half!

You’ve been up to a lot! You’re going to preschool and making friends. You sing, you discuss things with Minihammer, and you assert your will. Vehemently.

I got to visit your class on your actual birthday (last year AHEM) and it was then that I learned of your habit of putting yourself in time out.  Your teacher told me you often send yourself to the time out chair during circle time, but you tend to participate anyway – singing and doing the hand motions for songs from a distance.

We started you in swimming lessons – which involves you and me getting in a pool and you getting really, really mad at me whenever your face gets wet. This past week, they ran the water slide, which is a winding indoor slide that looks relatively harmless. The first time we had the option, you flat out refused, but this time, you wanted to go. So the deal is, I go down the slide luge-style and you ride along in my arms, lifting you up at the end so that you stay above water. The other parents made it look pretty easy, shooting out at the bottom and planting their feet, holding kid above them triumphantly. Our ride did not quite go that way – I was struggling to keep a grip on you, and man, that thing goes fast, and before I knew it we were hurtling toward the pool. We both plunged underwater (the teacher stands there to catch you, which she did). You were pretty steamed for the rest of the lesson, but recovered. It’s actually pretty fun and you’re inching your way toward sort of partially liking it. Progress!

You are good natured. If you think someone – me, dad, Minihammer, Nana C, the cat – is tired or cold, you’ll run and fetch a blanket and pillow. You feed the cat your pretend food. When I am trying to fix something around the house you run over with your Handy Manny tool set.

We are currently reading “Where is the green sheep?” at bedtime, and have a routine of hand signals and dance moves as we read each page (for example, when the refrain “where is the green sheep?” happens (five times), you reach your hands out above you like you’re signaling a field goal. When the “band sheep” shows up you do a dance that lasts for about six pages). Possibly my favorite part of the day.

You’re definitely making the most of being two. You are so full of enthusiasm and curiosity, tantrums and stubbornness, sweetness and humor. I love you, my wonderful girl.

Mom

Abacus

Finished out a busy Saturday of swim lessons and furniture deconstruction at the park (with Dench – Minihammer opted to stay home).

This abacus continues to be a hit every time we visit.

I think I knew how to use an abacus as a kid, or maybe I just thought I did? I know my Grandma tried to teach me. Maybe I’ll look it up on the wonder that is the internet and try to teach you guys, although I think the park one is at least a few beads short of a complete set (I know the feeling these days!)

Railroad museum

A day out with Mom at the Colorado Railroad Museum.

Minihammer was, uncharacteristically, more excited about getting his picture taken than he was about the trains.

Dench was pretty much the opposite.

Despite appearances, a good day.

Time Warp

Okay, so I pretty much failed to write to you from November 2011-March 2012. We did exist during that time, and I took pictures, so I am going to post them over the next few weeks. I’m going to add their actual dates as the post dates for, well, the cleanliness of the filing that presents. So – get ready for a few posts from the past to sneak their way in there…

Four and a half

Minihammer,

About a million years seven months ago, you turned four.

I can’t say I remember being four all that well. I was four when my family moved from Vancouver, BC to Denver. I remember fragments. Waking up in our crammed Fiat to find my mother offering me a Life Saver – which is probably memorable because candy was all but banished in our house growing up. Now that I look back, I see that moment from her point of view: three small kids in the back seat of a small car on a 20+ hour drive to a new country, new climate, where she knew no one. I’m sure she would have done anything to keep us somewhat under control – today, for me, it would be me caving in on games or movies in the car. For her, it was candy.

I wonder what you’ll remember of this time in your life. Your school friends and teachers? Building crafts with one of us? Playing video games? Making up elaborate stories with Dench and then acting them out? You’ll probably remember a handful of things, none of which will be in common with what I remember.

You’ll remember the highlights – the out of the ordinary, the life savers. I’ll remember – I hope – the things we did hundreds of times, mostly the same way, but usually with a small twist to separate the days.

Bedtime routines. Breakfast routines. How every night you count to a different, mystery number for us to turn off your light – skipping tens at a time to get to TWENTY, no SIXTY FIVE, now lights out.

How you enjoy pushing Dench around and around the house in the toy car, stopping off at the gas station, the monkey zoo, the astronaut museum. Our trips to the park, how we always take the spaceship to Mars, or go back in time to feed the dinosaurs lunch (celery, tomatoes and soup are the current favorite of our drawn-in-the-snow T-Rex). How your ultimatums invariably punish you more than us – “if you keep asking me to tidy up, I will go to bed without any stories!” “If you keep asking me to eat my yogurt, I will not have any fun at school at all!”

A very happy, incredibly belated celebration of my favorite little boy turning four.

I love you,

Mom

Nana’s work

This spring break, we visited your Nana at her library in a wonderful high school. We got a tour – you guys were very impressed with the school mascot, a tiger, decorating the halls. You then got fresh baked cookies from the lovely staff in the cafeteria, and played with crayons and stickers in the library office.

My mom has been working with high school students for as long as I can remember, and I always enjoyed visiting her library (and teasing her that I didn’t know what one was) (librarians love that). I am so glad we got a visit organized and that you got to see her in action.

Incidentally, if I posted the picture of Minihammer’s first visit in March 2009, I can’t find it. So:

Darth Tigger

Dinner with the cousins (March)

We are doing regular dinners with the Doris family! It’s kind of crazy since there are as many kids as there are adults, and I think on balance the kids are winning. It’s great fun!

Rest

Shoes