Preschool Front Disco

We have made progress.


Neve did not cry the entire way to school today.


In fact, after a few days of playing this,

Find more artists like Morrissey at Myspace Music

today was the first day that she didn't cover her face.   And she actually sang along!


We've slightly modified it though.

"But they should know where you've gone, because again and again you've explained.  You're going to PRESCHOOL!  Preschool, ohhhh, preschool!"

If turning my daughter into a Morrissey hag like her mother is what it takes to like school, well then, so be it.

Miniature and Mouthy

This kid.

She doesn't stop talking.  Or stop asking questions.

She doesn't wait for or listen to the answers either.

And she's sassy.  Or "thathy".  (Her lisp is fading, actually, and I'm already mourning it.)

She's sharp and witty, in a way that's completely different from Fiona or me or Terry.  And she'll zing you good, so watch out.

When she's happy and sweet, she could give you a toothache.  But when she's angry and sour, she will do her best to make sure that you go down with her stinking sinking ship.

* * *

The following are but a few of the quotes I thought to jot down this week.

- "Why is today tomorrow?" (Random backseat question.)

- "You're not even amazing."  (Fighting with her sister.)

- "So tell me again, how did the moon and the sun fall in love?"  (I never said they did in the first place.)

- "When you were 5 [years old], were we friends, Mom?" (More random backseat questions.)

- "Just show me how to make a robot." (Just.)

- "When they make me lay down for a nap at school (which I'm too old to be doing anymore), all I can think about is your face and then I get sad and I cry.  How am I supposed to sleep like that?!"  (An argument for why she shouldn't have to go to school.)

- "You're absolute entire adorable."  (Talking to a miniature paper machéd filing cabinet.)

- "Guess what my brain wants me to say?  It wants me to say, 'You should stop talking now'."  (To Fiona who was telling her an uninteresting story.  My brain was telling me the same thing too actually.)

- "Look at that handsome man with a beard and glasses.  Mmm mmm." (Looking out her bedroom window at her father who is blowing leaves.)

And my favorite (which requires a little context):

My mom sent in some Kellogs box tops and redeemed a children's DVD that was sent to our home.  It is a collection of short videos based on R.L. Stine's books, Goosebumps.  Imagine that the Twilight Zone and Kurt Cameron had a baby... it's kinda like that.

Anyway, the girls were so excited to be receiving a real piece of mail addressed to them (one that could be inserted into a DVD player no less), they asked if they could watch at that very moment.  I was happy to grant their wish and grab 90 minutes of rest for myself.

Within the first minute, this song starts:

and Fiona runs to the kitchen.  I ask her if she's scared, and she swears she just needs a cup of water.  She proceeds to get up and grab a cup of water every time things got a little tense.

One big difference between her and her sister is that not only will Fiona not tolerate even the thought of something scaring her, but she will also not admit that she is in fact scared.  Neve, on the other hand, will openly admit that things are scaring her while enduring it on the couch, hands over face, peeping out of the gaps of her fingers.

After the 90 minutes of my unrest is over (credits rolling), Fiona and Neve sit motionless on the couch staring off into space.  They were both clearly thinking about what they had just watched- their first taste of a horror movie-esque high (as ugly and tame as it may have been).

Fiona: "Mom.  Where's the DVD case?  I need to see what it says."

I hand it to her.  She angrily begins searching for a disclaimer that says it's not intended for young adults (she doesn't know about ratings yet), hoping to be vindicated of her lies of thirst.

Me: "What are you looking for, Honey?"

Fiona: "The warning on here that says this is too grown up and scary for kids."

Neve grabs it out of her hand, pretends to read the back of the DVD and says (I swear this is quoted verbatim): "Um, according to this, Fiona. . . you're a baby."

Burn.

Best Present A Child Could Receive: Crash Course in Pop Culture

My mother-in-law brought an Entertainment Weekly mag with her when she visited during Christmas vacation. 

She left it behind, and it has since been sitting on our night table.

This was the result:

Terry and I find the girls sitting on our bed silently studying the cover.

Fiona: "Look, Mom!  It's Aunt Rachel!  With big boobies!"

katy perry, left, and aunt rachel, right.  (rachel's photo shamelessly and creepily snagged from her facebook page.)

Neve: "Oh yeah!  And there's Harry Potter and... what's that guy's name from Toy Story?"

Dera: "Woody!  And holy cow, Terry... she does kinda look like Rachel!"

Fiona: "And there's the pretty lady that Daddy likes."

Dera and Terry, in unison: "Where?"

Terry: "Oh sure.  Sophie Vergara."

Dera:  "Oh sure.  Good 'ole Sophie Vergara.  You've been having some quality conversations with your daughters, I see.  First name basis now?"

Terry: "You know... Sophie Ver-"

Dera: "Stop saying her name. Especially with that Columbian accent."

Neve: "And there's the guy from Pirates of the Caribbean!"

Dera:  "Whoa.  Impressive.  Yeah, that's Johnny Depp who was in another movie, Alice in Wonderland."

Fiona: "Yeah, the dumb scary one."

Terry: "Here we go.  There's the boy Mommy thinks is handsome."

Dera: "You mean man?  He's a man."

Fiona: "And there's the other man Mommy likes!  He's funny."

Dera: "Conan?  How do you know him?  Terry, I don't like how much they know about pop culture.  They know Conan but don't know Woody!"

Terry: "It's fine."

Neve: "And there's Rapunzel..."

Neve: "... and there's the boy that talks like a girl..."

Dera: "Whoa."

Fiona: "And there's a guy who puts ketchup on his hands."

Neve: "Fiona, that's blood, not ketchup.  Why would someone have ketchup on their hands and not wash it off [before taking their photo for the cover of a magazine]?"

Fiona: "To make it look like blood!?  Why would anyone have blood on their hands and not wash it off [before taking their photo for the cover of a magazine]?"

Dera: "Good point, Fi."

Neve: "Well, Fiona... I know that's the boy from the movie 'The Power of a Kicking Kid'."

Dera: "Terry, she just called the Karate Kid the 'Power of a Kicking Kid', and I want to pinch her she's so cute."

Terry: "Yeah, that is cute."

Fiona: "And there's Daddy's best BEST girlfriend."  She cracks herself up.

Terry: "Betty White? Alright."

Neve: "You're as pretty as Betty White, Mom."

Fiona: "Betty White, Betty White, Pretty like Betty White, Betty White, Betty White, Pretty Like...", improvises song to club house beat.  Neve joins her, and they dance around the house for the next 10 minutes singing this delight.

* * *

In other news, we are going Amish for 2011.

Resolution: Keep On Loving the Little.

Fiona's first bubble gum bubble success.

.

Neve holds a tiny chocolate burger.

I'm hoping that 2011 is filled with more bubble-blowing-babies, miniature chocolate burgers, tickles and giggles, family bike rides to the park, jokes about body parts, acorn and rock collections, morning family snuggles in bed, nighttime dance parties, elaborate blanket/sheet forts, afternoons of baking, hugs and kisses.

Happy new year to all ya'll!

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

I hope everyone's holiday was as bright and sparkly as our's was (minus the flu + strep throat combo we all shared).

We were lucky enough to have shared this time with Terry's mom and cousins and uncles and aunts and my grandparents.  It was fantastic.  And had I felt a tiny bit better that day, I would have been more on my game and taken more pictures.

There was even a little bit of snow- just enough for the girls (and a few adults too) to use their new saucers to go flying down the hill next to my folks' house.  And again, while there's no photographic evidence of this, there is a pair of jeans with a hole in the butt to show for all the fun that was had.  (I went a good 20 mph faster than everyone else and landed in a hedge of thorns and holly.  Baby got back.)

Terry scored big this Christmas.  My dad made him a new guitar.  And me oh my... it is beautiful!  I will upload pictures of it soon.  We all played some bluegrass classics, a few Sweetheart of the Rodeo numbers, some Leonard Cohen, and even a Linda Ronstadt tune together.  The best.

Happy 2011 to everyone.  I virtually kissed each of you at midnight too.  (I would check to make sure you didn't get a virtual case of strep throat though.)