Poor Meg got her four-year-old shots last week. It was pretty traumatic. Afterwards, she commented sadly, "Shots. Nasty, nasty shots."
We've been all about Egypt around here, especially the Sphinx (pronounced Spinks). So when we watched The Prince of Egypt, she leapt up, grabbed her book about How the Sphinx Got to the Museum, and started identifying everything in the movie. My favorite moment was when she decided Hatshepsut adopted baby Moses.
"I think in our world, Sanajay snakes are dangerous and I shouldn't touch them because they're poisonous." Meg
"Yeah, I think you're right." Me
"Because then you'd have a WOUNDED KID!" Meg
Update:
Speaking of... snakes?... Meg is currently building an elaborate fort out of cans of tomatoes, library books, and a baby blanket. I asked who the fort was for. "It's a JAIL! It's a nice little happy jail."
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Quotes from Jonathan
"They're both French Roast. This one says decaf, this one is silent. Silence is caffeinated!" Jonathan
"Your burp cloths are just like North Korea." Jonathan
"Your burp cloths are just like North Korea." Jonathan
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Sailing the high carpet and growing pizza
"All right, sailors. Does everyone have their outfits on?" "No, Captain." "Well, get your outfits on! It's time to go!" "All right, you heard the captain, mateys. Get your outfits on, mateys." Meg pronounces "mateys" with a flourish, and relish, so that it comes out like "mighties."
She's got a good little fleet now. For Christmas and her birthday, I got Meg some Imaginext toys, the steampunk submarine with extendable claw and the Chinese junk with a sail and fins that pop out. They're very cool, and also they look fun strewn on the high sea/carpet. We have a lot of adventures with them. They are sufficiently cool that I got out my old Happy Meal treasure chest (from the Pirates of the Caribbean era), took out the safety pins it had been storing, and let Meg add it to her fleet. She filled it with telescopes, the anchor, a treasure map, and somebody's spare parrot. This fills me with glee.
Next on my wish list: female adventure toys. There are no girls anywhere in the entire Imaginext universe, unless you count maybe Wonder Woman who has an ugly outfit. This doesn't bother Meg, but I am a little disturbed that they apparently spawn like orcs and Minecraft zombeans. Maybe they're just like dwarves and they all look male. (Jonathan: "Is that really an improvement?") I would really appreciate some girl adventurers for my adventurous girl, who slays monsters in her spare time.
Also, Wall-E has ruined Meg's sense of farming. I tried to explain that the captain was mistaken and you can not grow pizza.
"I can do it. I throw grain on the ground and pizza comes up, and I go, oh! I can also grow carrots. I pull it out of the ground and chop it up and give it to Mr. and Mrs. Pteranodon."
She's got a good little fleet now. For Christmas and her birthday, I got Meg some Imaginext toys, the steampunk submarine with extendable claw and the Chinese junk with a sail and fins that pop out. They're very cool, and also they look fun strewn on the high sea/carpet. We have a lot of adventures with them. They are sufficiently cool that I got out my old Happy Meal treasure chest (from the Pirates of the Caribbean era), took out the safety pins it had been storing, and let Meg add it to her fleet. She filled it with telescopes, the anchor, a treasure map, and somebody's spare parrot. This fills me with glee.
Next on my wish list: female adventure toys. There are no girls anywhere in the entire Imaginext universe, unless you count maybe Wonder Woman who has an ugly outfit. This doesn't bother Meg, but I am a little disturbed that they apparently spawn like orcs and Minecraft zombeans. Maybe they're just like dwarves and they all look male. (Jonathan: "Is that really an improvement?") I would really appreciate some girl adventurers for my adventurous girl, who slays monsters in her spare time.
Also, Wall-E has ruined Meg's sense of farming. I tried to explain that the captain was mistaken and you can not grow pizza.
"I can do it. I throw grain on the ground and pizza comes up, and I go, oh! I can also grow carrots. I pull it out of the ground and chop it up and give it to Mr. and Mrs. Pteranodon."
Tuesday, January 07, 2014
Ringing the bell
"Mom, do you remember the sink cord?"
"No, I'm afraid that doesn't ring a bell."
Meg turned to her invisible pet mouse. "Jane, will you please ring the bell so Mom can remember? Ding."
"No, I'm afraid that doesn't ring a bell."
Meg turned to her invisible pet mouse. "Jane, will you please ring the bell so Mom can remember? Ding."
Saturday, January 04, 2014
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
New Year resolutions
Happy New Year! I hope you all had a lovely celebration and a good opening to the year. We all went to bed at the usual time, except Kate, who wanted to party throughout the night. I didn't have my party hat on, though, and kept putting her back down.
Today I started the new year right by drinking enough coffee to chase off my non-party-induced headache, tidying the living room, sweeping or vacuuming all the floors in the public areas, and rearranging the furniture, because that's what you do when the floor is clean enough to see. We had friends over for games - an old friend, a new friend (her husband), and a very new friend (their baby). It was so nice to spend time with them.
Apparently the new year is a good time to consider the past and determine what you can do better in the future. I never do, but it seems to be a thing.
This is my favorite list of resolutions. I think I can honestly subscribe to every one.
The Nester recommends making little changes to make it easier to do things you really want... like wear warm socks, so you won't be cold and grumpy.
Catherine Larson exhorts us not to fall into the Try Harder resolutions deathtrap.
Patricia Wrede talks about year-end clean-up for one's writing life. She named her cat Karma, in case you're wondering.
Honestly, 2013 was a lousy year, and I'm mostly grateful it's over. You know what? I never have to live through that year again. Best of 2013: Baby Kate.
But my doctor did tell me to take calcium with vitamin D. I feel old.
Today I started the new year right by drinking enough coffee to chase off my non-party-induced headache, tidying the living room, sweeping or vacuuming all the floors in the public areas, and rearranging the furniture, because that's what you do when the floor is clean enough to see. We had friends over for games - an old friend, a new friend (her husband), and a very new friend (their baby). It was so nice to spend time with them.
Apparently the new year is a good time to consider the past and determine what you can do better in the future. I never do, but it seems to be a thing.
This is my favorite list of resolutions. I think I can honestly subscribe to every one.
The Nester recommends making little changes to make it easier to do things you really want... like wear warm socks, so you won't be cold and grumpy.
Catherine Larson exhorts us not to fall into the Try Harder resolutions deathtrap.
Patricia Wrede talks about year-end clean-up for one's writing life. She named her cat Karma, in case you're wondering.
Honestly, 2013 was a lousy year, and I'm mostly grateful it's over. You know what? I never have to live through that year again. Best of 2013: Baby Kate.
But my doctor did tell me to take calcium with vitamin D. I feel old.
A pink dinosaur cake with jelly beans
Meg had a birthday on the 30th (as she does every year), and this was definitely a year of prioritizing. In a perfect world, we'd have invited friends, the presents would have been wrapped ahead of time (with ribbons too and actual bows), we'd have fixed a special dinner of foods she likes best, and I'd have been able to find and hang streamers.
However. This year I had to choose whether to fix a cake or dinner, and the cake won. We had a makeshift dinner of fish sticks and acorn squash which is weird but nobody cared, because it was a pretty epic cake. Ever since she turned three, a whole year, she's been requesting a pink cake - a DINOSAUR cake - with jelly beans. How did that work, you may ask? We baked chocolate cake in regular round cake pans, spread cream cheese between the layers, and made a really excellent strawberry buttercream frosting. It was all cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and pureed fresh strawberries. Next time I'll chill the frosting to thicken it before I put it on, but it was so good. Then Meg washed her hands and decorated her pink cake with toy dinosaurs, run-through-the-dishwasher-first-thank-you-very-much, and filled in the gaps with jelly beans.
I also prioritized wrapping all her presents without bows over getting half the presents wrapped with bows. I only had her "naptime" to wrap in, and Meg didn't care about ribbon. She cared about ripping paper off, and did so with aplomb. It was an excellent birthday. Meg even got to skype with both sets of grandparents and an aunt and an uncle and her cousin, who JUST started walking (yay James)! So that was pretty fun.
We found out later that the washing of the dinosaurs kind of went badly, though. Meg helped arrange dinosaurs in the top rack and I didn't realize she had included the grows-in-water parasaurolophus. She thought he needed a bath.
Never, ever, ever, put a grows-in-water toy though your dishwasher. Never.
Jonathan recovered the body, looking very much like a drowned victim who'd been underwater too long, and we've been picking styrofoam dinosaur bits off all our dishes for two loads now. It's pretty disgusting. I actually resorted to hand-washing things until we get the dishwasher grate cleaned out, which tells you the situation is serious.
But for all that, we have a delightful four-year-old and you've never had such a wonderful pink dinosaur cake with jelly beans. I think that cake will go down in family history.
However. This year I had to choose whether to fix a cake or dinner, and the cake won. We had a makeshift dinner of fish sticks and acorn squash which is weird but nobody cared, because it was a pretty epic cake. Ever since she turned three, a whole year, she's been requesting a pink cake - a DINOSAUR cake - with jelly beans. How did that work, you may ask? We baked chocolate cake in regular round cake pans, spread cream cheese between the layers, and made a really excellent strawberry buttercream frosting. It was all cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and pureed fresh strawberries. Next time I'll chill the frosting to thicken it before I put it on, but it was so good. Then Meg washed her hands and decorated her pink cake with toy dinosaurs, run-through-the-dishwasher-first-thank-you-very-much, and filled in the gaps with jelly beans.
I also prioritized wrapping all her presents without bows over getting half the presents wrapped with bows. I only had her "naptime" to wrap in, and Meg didn't care about ribbon. She cared about ripping paper off, and did so with aplomb. It was an excellent birthday. Meg even got to skype with both sets of grandparents and an aunt and an uncle and her cousin, who JUST started walking (yay James)! So that was pretty fun.
We found out later that the washing of the dinosaurs kind of went badly, though. Meg helped arrange dinosaurs in the top rack and I didn't realize she had included the grows-in-water parasaurolophus. She thought he needed a bath.
Never, ever, ever, put a grows-in-water toy though your dishwasher. Never.
Jonathan recovered the body, looking very much like a drowned victim who'd been underwater too long, and we've been picking styrofoam dinosaur bits off all our dishes for two loads now. It's pretty disgusting. I actually resorted to hand-washing things until we get the dishwasher grate cleaned out, which tells you the situation is serious.
But for all that, we have a delightful four-year-old and you've never had such a wonderful pink dinosaur cake with jelly beans. I think that cake will go down in family history.
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