That's about right

I got a kick out of Meg's Veggie-Tales lyrics update this evening. She sang,
"The Lord has given this land to us
So we can fuss..." (Original: No need to fuss.)

Then Jonathan and I were standing in the kitchen as I gave him his welcome-home kiss. Meg tried to demand a toy, so I paused the kiss long enough to tell her that this was mush and she couldn't interrupt. I felt a stirring by our feet, with some grunting.

"Nnng! Unnng! I'm trying -- to -- get -- IN!"

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"I'll move all the things that I don't like, off the couch. Oh! I found two mouses!"

Such surprise! Such delight! Such eloquence in the cause of making a mess! What a girl.

It was like ice skating

Meg ice skated this morning for the first time! Kirsten and I took her and then went shopping afterwards. Monday morning is a great time to go, with just a handful of adults on the ice practicing spins and other interesting moves and, best of all, not running us over. The thrift store skates fit Meg just fine with a pair of extra socks.

About a quarter of the way around the rink, she got frustrated and asked to go home, but she pulled it together and we made it around several times. She skated holding onto one of us, holding onto both of us, holding onto the wall, and even, just for a foot or two, all by herself. She's good at getting back on her feet, though she preferred to sit on the ice and watch everybody, and her balance definitely improved while we were there.

"Did you go ice skating this morning?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah," said Meg.
"What was it like?"
"It was like ice skating," she said.

And that seemed to sum it up.

Worth trying

"Just let me know when it's time to eat candy, okay, guys?" Meg

We've started the Advent calendar, you see. We have a big one with pockets and Nativity figures that you put on the stable, and then we have a little one with chocolate. I think the chocolate is leading to some optimism.

Security plan

We ate at a Quizno's in greater Baltimore, the other day. It was a great Quizno's, but as I was sitting at our table I noticed that the door jamb had a sticker with heights marked off on it like you would to measure your kid's height, only this one started higher up - five and a half feet, six feet, six and a half, seven. The door was seven feet tall, I noticed, and started speculating whether that was standard for buildings in North America. Probably.

But then I noticed that this sticker had their security company's logo. It all clicked.

They put it there to measure robbers on their way out.

I love how crimes were something they were planning on having and took steps to prosecute. So, of course, we had to photograph this character by the door to get photographic evidence. I told him to look suspicious.

Persephone is put to bed, clean and a little soggy

Tonight we let Meg have a little cup of pomegranate seeds to nibble in the bath.* Of course the bath got everywhere, pomegranate cup, Daddy-splashing cup, ducks, Daddy, and all, and it was time for the Meg to come out of the bath.  Jonathan dealt with the bathwater first, and while his back was turned, Meg slipped out to come leap on me and my laptop and generously drip all over au naturel, to the musical shrieks of "Get down! Watch the computer!"

Jonathan came along with a towel, and when Meg was dry, pajamaed, and put to bed, discovered that the Daddy-splashing cup had maliciously covered the tub drain so the water wouldn't drain.

I tell this story, not just by way of personal encouragement that these things happen to other people, but also because I found it amusing that I was pounced on by a girl literally wet behind the ears. Metaphor strikes again.



*Doesn't that sounds luxurious and Romanesque? We're starting classical education early. Obviously.

Sounds of the season

You know "Mele Kalikimaka," right? Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you? I had a brilliant idea for a playlist of perky tropical songs centered around that one. So I made my playlist, only to discover that I didn't actually own any versions of "Mele Kalikimaka," not one. Drat!

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When I put on Bing Crosby's "Silver Bells":

"Mommy, is that Santa Claus singing?!" Meg

A girl of many hats

Meg, like many small girls before her, has a way with hats. Some of them are actually hats, some are other useful household objects pressed into service, and all of them get a name. For instance, we have a "pumpkin hat" and "mouse hat," which anyone could have.

We also have the "worry hat," a red plastic mixing bowl, the "problem hat," a green polar fleece hat with matching gloves, and finally the "school bus hat," which is a blue measuring scoop from a tub of oxy-clean. Elsa Schiaparelli would be proud.

You should definitely come play dress-up with us.

Why I haven't been blogging

Thanksgiving is over and we're ready for Christmas decorations! I started trying to decorate Sunday night, but there was too much chaos. So I started organizing.

I organized closets Sunday night. The pile of give-aways took up residence by the front door and started spilling all throughout the living room.

Monday I tidied all afternoon, to no apparent effect. My room is actually much cleaner, but you couldn't really tell, which was depressing.

Tuesday I cleaned all afternoon and evening, also to not much effect. I cleaned Meg's room, scrubbed the bathroom (and lit a candle!), did laundry, and around eleven p.m. got the kitchen mostly clean, except for some residual dishes for the next round in the washer. It was pretty good, except Jonathan was under the weather and no matter where I went, someone was sure to come behind me and make messes. Herds of plastic animals sprouted up on chairs, magically. But I was making headway. Barely.

So this was the score as of Tuesday night: I'd cleaned my room, Meg's room, the bathroom, and the kitchen. That left the hall and the living room. In a five-room apartment, you'd THINK with four of the rooms clean, it would seem clean overall. But no. The house was still winning, just on the strength of that one living room alone, and furthermore it was trying to intimidate me. Bad house. Meanwhile, every day Meg anxiously asked if we could decorate, and every day I had to tell her no, we had to clean more. So I felt like a boring mother, as well as a losing housekeeper. Grr.

But. Today was the day. We finally got rid of that pile-o-junk and vacuumed the living room. Woohoo!  Meg was quite helpful about putting toys back in her room, and even threw away all the acorns that were getting stomped into the rug, which you can now see again and walk on barefoot. Life is good. Mommy, can we decorate?

Oh happy day, we got out the Christmas tree! This is the smallish one, about six feet tall but slimmer than average, that we got the first year we were married, and it's started to shed branches a little bit. I'll be sad when it goes, because it's just right for our smallish house. But, er, in the heat of battle I'd been putting off the question of where to set up this smallish tree. I can't for the life of me remember what we did with it last year, and in any case it probably wouldn't fit there again because now we have a computer and filing cabinets. I discussed it with Emily, and came to the decision that with two computers in the living room, we don't really need the TV in there. So I reorganized the house again, dismantled the TV shelf and put its contents on other shelves, where they don't fit, put the TV in my room where I'd never intended to have a TV, squeezed the empty shelf awkwardly into Meg's room where she promptly started lining up plastic animals, and set up the tree in the living room, all green and cheerful and shedding slightly.

But we're decorating. And we had a friend over this evening, who stomped us soundly at Scrabble. So there.