Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
As you know already, getting Laura dressed in anything but a dress each day is an exercise in parental determination. As the days warm up, the struggle will be more about which dress she's allowed to wear around the house vs. what is saved for Sundays and other special days, but it will be nice to let her have free reign in her closet.
This morning as I was helping her get dressed I was preparing for our usual 'discussion'. I was stunned at the turn the conversation took. Initially, I had determined that although our day was going to warm up to 80, the cooler morning meant her dress would need sleeves and I was preparing myself to say "No" to every sleeveless dress she'd pull out. When she didn't even approach the closet I should have realized she'd already made up her mind but I was slow to pick up on what she was doing. As I turned around to find my diaper clad child trying to climb on the glider, I asked her what she was doing. She paused, dropped her knee of the chair, pointed up and said "No! Dat one!"
Following her finger I saw the t-shirt her Aunt Diane had brought her. Since it was white I've been saving its initial wear for a warm weather visit so she could enjoy it on Laura in all its initial glory. Apparently that was not to be. After I removed it from its current spot and handed it to her, it was hard for her to put it on herself because she was wiggling with so much excitement. In fact, she could have cared less what shorts I chose for her, and I think that's a first. Once dressed, she couldn't wait to get downstairs to show the 'boys' how she was dressed and insisted on a 'piter' for posterity's sake. And if, by chance, a meal today requires her universal dipping sauce, it may never be that white again. :)
We also gathered 'the boys' for a picture as well. Here's my whole, wonderful gang. Matthew, growing so old so fast, and Jonathan, in all of his 'can't make his hair cooperate for anything' glory. I've got some great kids, don't I?
Friday, May 11, 2007
Laura wants to go 'outide' as often as possible. The other day I caught her trying to con Jonathan in to taking her out with him by clasping her hands together against her chest, cocking her head to the side and opening her eyes really wide before saying "Pwease?!" with such a precious, pleading look that I was sure Jonathan wouldn't be able to deny her this small request. But alas, Jonathan failed to succumb and she was stuck behind the screen door as he went blithely on his way. Even after saying pwease over and over again, and frankly, hollering it at his back as he escaped. But Daddy couldn't deny it and soon he was putting on his sandals to take her out.
And so the tradition has been set.
Laura will confront anyone who appears to be headed in any way, shape or form, for the great outdoors. She will casually mention that she needs her socks on and one of us, thinking her feet are cold, will comply. If we don't, she's upstairs anyway, putting on her own socks, albeit upside down or sideways, so she can then move on to Phase Two. In this phase she'll walk around looking for the nearest pair of shoes that she'll once again attempt to put on herself. When she gets only so far, the pleading with the nearest bigger person ensues. In short order she is often shoe clad, ready for Phase Three.
Phase Three can take on a much more desperate tone depending on the cooperation of those around her at the moment. She moves from the cute, batting her eyes, hands clasped just under her tilted chin pleas of "Pwease?!" over and over again to stomping her feet and stating in no uncertain terms that "I wanna dough outide" in short order. When this doesn't work, she'll return to her pleading ways, hitting up each person as they come in the door, or dare to step anywhere near the door. If this fails to get her to her goal of the great outdoors, she'll move to Phase Four.
Phase Four involves driving her parents crazy by slipping ever so quietly out whatever door she can find that is not locked. Yes, our precious little three year old has figured out that she can do this on her own. Even when told she can't. Indeed her quiet, sly, swift movement from inside to out can happen so fast that we are often oblivious to it until we see her head bopping away from the screen door at a fast rate. *sigh* Soon I'm sure locks won't even work.
Once we've retrieved the plundering preschooler who eventually realizes she really isn't going to get outside at the moment, she'll start in on what we now have come to realize is Phase Five of her efforts. She'll sulk for a few moments, whining, trying to garner sympathy from those left indoors to do necessary chores. When she realizes this isn't working, the child goes quiet for a moment and then it is as if she is transformed. Running up to me she'll tug on my shorts, yelling "Mom! Mom! I dough what we can do!!!" Hiding your smile and wondering just how you are going to get out of this most marvelous suggestion, I turn to her innocently and say "What? What can we do?" She'll once again clasp her hands together under her chin, tilt her little head, open her eyes wide, smile so big it transforms her whole face and say "We can go to the PARK!"
Indeed, in very short order, everyone in the family is piling in to the car, water bottles in hand, off for another adventure with everyone else who's preschooler came up with the very same, wonderful idea. We're off to the park.
Yes, Spring is here. Pwease can we dough to the Park? :)
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
For several months, in the midst of all of this bionicle play has been our three year old girly girl. Clad in her must-have dress, she plops herself down in the middle of their play, takes whatever castoffs they'll give her and will play, shoot, blast and blow up right along with them. I had to stop in my tracks the other day when I heard her tell Jonathan to pick up his Barraki. But then to her I guess it is just another baby name. I'll deal with the fact that she knows them all as well as the boys do some other day.
Recently, however, Laura has decided that her babies, bunnies and dollhouses are much more interesting. She will, when pressed, join in with the boys (they like her to pick up the pieces for them when they blast one to death by throwing him on the ground) but she's prefer her own little world. More than once she's had to deal with extracting bionicles from her dollhouse, her baby bed where they've made their headquarters, or her stroller where they hang from the 'cliff' as they exit the 'cave' before she can use them for their more intended purpose. Today I think she reached her limit.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught her headed in to the living room. In her hand she clutched two bionicles, her other hand was on her hip and she was stomping with purpose. I could only imagine what was to come so I followed her. As she went around the corner so Matthew could see her she said "Mattchew, Tan It! Dis is MY troller and YOUR DUYS don't bewong here." Matthew was quiet for just a moment and then he started laughing out loud. I think he and I both figured it out at about the same time because I was laughing right along with him. It seems he'd just been told to 'can it', a phrase I use with them when they are starting to cross the line between what are indoor activities and those that belong outdoors.
Oh be careful parent mouths what you say... for you don't know just who is listening!