The Weather Game

Chrys has convinced RC that we have another game on the Wii. Today, she asked to if she could make it not cold. He asked if she wanted to make it rain in China. She liked that idea.

Killer

There was a flying something in the house tonight as Ryanne and I sat eating dessert. She was watching it closely. It flew over and landed on her chest so I reached over, tapped her and it fell to the floor.

She looked at me in horror. Her face crumpled. "I don't want it deaded."

Since when can I not kill insects in the house? Gah!

She bent down and gently picked it up off the floor.
R: "Make it not deaded."
M: "I can't do that, sweetie. We can put it outside and let its spirit fly, though."
R: "Yeah"

We open the door and she drops it outside saying something about fly little buggie, fly away.

R: "Its friends will help it get better."
M: "We can only hope."
R: "Then it can come back inside."
M: "I'm sure we'll see one again."

She still wasn't totally ok when she went upstairs. I didn't expect something like this to set her off this early. I guess all of the death she's experienced in her short life has really had more of an effect on her than I ever realized. I will certainly be more careful about trying to catch and release. Now, if I could just get her to stop squishing the ones outside. Hypocrite.

Little shopper

Yesterday we went to Hallmark. While I looked for an ornament I wanted, I sent RC to find new wrapping paper (gods only know where the rest of ours went - we don't *remember* using it all up).

She comes over after a bit. "Mommy, you need to come pay." "Ryanne, I'm not ready to check out yet." "Oh." Runs off.

I wander about and end up tracking her down near the wrapping paper. The sales clerk says that Ryanne asked to be shown the "roll paper that's sticky". The clerk said, "tape?" "No, I have that. The big roll wrap paper." At which point she was shown to the wrapping paper. Apparently she debated between two rolls for some time. The clerk thought it was awesome.

Then we went to check out. "There you are again," says the lady. I must have looked confused. "She (pointing at Ryanne) came over earlier with her paper and some other stuff and asked to go so I had her all rung up. Then she came back and said you weren't ready to pay. I didn't realize she wasn't alone (what? who sends their 4 year old shopping alone?!) She just needs your credit card and she'll be all set."

I sighed. She's right in this case, though. If I can teach her to do her laundry and use the microwave, she'll be ready to live on her own. :)

Scratch that

We now have a hand drawn letter to the big man in red. She wants an iPod. With headphones.

Really, she wants a big one (Classic), but she said she'd be ok with a little one (Nano). She's getting the smallest nano they make, but it will have the video capability that might enable longer car rides. This is really why we would even consider it.

I think we have our bases covered. Unless she doubles back to the doll, something she *really* wants will be under the tree.

Spoiled? What are you talking about?

More Ryanne-isms

I think I've talked about work shirts before. Anything that buttons up is a work shirt. She identifies these because it's what Chrys wears to work.

She has YMCA shirts that she and I have to wear to go to the Y. If I go to the Y not in one of those she knows it's going to be a short visit or for school. So help me if I wear one and don't get hers out, too. Specifically it's a red one for Healthy Kids Day. She doesn't recognize any of her other Y shirts as YMCA work shirts. Yes, she works at the Y, too. She earns money by helping me clean toys. That's why she needs a YMCA work shirt. She's adamant about this.

And, now, we have Daddy Day shirts. These are Chrys' solid color t-shirts that he wears on weekends. She apparently let him know of this when helping him get something in the laundry one day. I think she was looking for jeans and was naming off things as she found them. He asked for clarification, but it was as he expected.

The doctor says she's 4

She was 40" tall and 35.6lbs. Her blood pressure was 90/40. She got her DTaP, MMR, IPV and Chickenpox vaccine. I still feel guilty about the chickenpox. She's still 50th percentile all the way around. She also got the flu mist. I think this is one of the last times she's eligible for that. I don't know what I'll do about it next year.

We talked about her eye sight - she passed the test, even reading all the letters mostly correctly. They didn't test her hearing again. We talked about her relationship with her brother.

We talked about her being a bit of a pain and the doctor said it was normal. She's apparently 4. Ah well...

The return of Popo

Popo has been missing for weeks now. Ryanne asks about her periodically. I've turned the house upside down looking - the couch, my room, her room, drawers, etc. I've looked in my car. I've looked at the Y, both in the nursery and her classroom for Mother's Day Out. Nothing.

Last night, Chrys went through our closet again. He opened Ryanne's luggage. Lo and behold, there's Popo, all packed up and ready for a trip.

It was then that I remembered her dragging her bag out into my room when I was talking about us leaving. Sadly, I don't remember if it was for Albuquerque or one of the Midland trips. I remembered her talking about packing. I remember telling her that she couldn't take her bag and putting it back in the closet. I should have opened it to make sure there was nothing in it, but I didn't.

Chrys tucked Popo into Ryanne's arms as she slept last night. She came out of her room holding her this morning. They've been inseparable since.

Turns out that Ryanne can now get Popo's clothes on and off all by herself. She's come a long way with her abilities on the doll.

She told me that she didn't want an American Doll now; she only wanted that when she didn't have Popo.

It reminds me of my first baby doll that I remember being really attached to - Suzy. I took her everywhere. I found her when we were in Midland packing and moving. I wanted to keep her. I don't remember, now, if I did or if reason set in and I let her go on.

Honestly, I don't know who was more upset about Popo being missing. (Chrys and) I thought it was mostly me because Ryanne didn't ask about her that much. Seeing Ryanne today interacting with Popo, though, I think she really missed having her around.

Nevermind...

Dear Santa,

From Ryanne

For Christmas, I want a grocery place. I want Whole Foods that has groceries, ok? It has to be painted. I want a camera that does real pictures. Not that kiddie one. I think that's it. I want a haircut stand for Popo. (She wants the one pictured in the Popo brochure, but I've convinced her that one from Target will do.)

A dictated letter

Dear Santa,

I want (points to the American Girl catalog) that dolly. (Mom: I think it's Julie Albright, but she's also taken with Julie's friend "the Japan one".) I like that doll, too. (M: This one's Samantha which I already have.) I want 5. (M: This was a response to "how many dollies do you want?" which I asked after she pointed at Josefina and said she wanted that one, too.) I want all dollies so all the other girls can't have any, ok? I want every dollies, ok?

(M: Then we found the "just like you" series.) I want one that's just like me. Her name is Ryanne: R-Y-A-N-N-E. I want clothes for her, too. I want a guitar for her. A puppy for her. And pizza - a pizza party for her. I want that clothing (M: a Hula outfit) that doesn't have any shoes. And I want that one with any shoes - it has brown pants and a blue shirt (M: same page as the hula outfit).

Thank you, Santa.

Love, Ryanne

Upgrade

Ryanne recently figured out that she was tall enough to easily see the table while sitting in one of the 'big people' chairs instead of her chair (a Stokke knock off that we picked up in Japan). Since it was getting to be time to switch Corin to something other than his high chair, we moved her. She is ecstatic. She alternates which chair she uses at the table (for all but dinner time with daddy) to test them all out.

Ad free

Tonight, Chrys sat down with RC to watch some TV. He only wanted a minute or two so he turned on broadcast - we don't have cable and 99.9% of what the kids watch is videos or rips of the videos on the AppleTV. They ended up with the Simpsons. They watched for a few minutes and then it cut to a commercial.

Ryanne said, "This is just like a hotel TV."

I *hate* being right

Interior. Daylight. Mommy is on the step ladder in the kitchen putting away the "G" glasses that Great-Greendad insisted we take (or at least that's what Grandma says).

R: Mommy, can I help you?
M: Yes, Ryanne, you can bring me the glasses, please - one at a time so you can use both hands.

Ryanne successfully carries 4 or so of the glasses to me. Two remain.

R: Mommy, look. (She is carrying two, one in each hand.)
M: Ryanne put one of them back. I am worried that if you bring both, one will drop and break.

Instead of turning around and putting one down, she starts running toward me with both of them. She holds one out and I grab it as she nears...

R: Mommy, I can *crash*. (Crying.)

Ah well, the kitchen floor needed cleaning anyway.

Toy autonomy

Apparently the magic age for being able to get your own toys out of the package thankyouverymuch is 4.

I got some Halloween toys on clearance at Target today. I handed Ryanne the bag. She started pulling things out. She started opening the first one. I asked if she wanted help.

I received the most exasperated sigh, followed by a teenage-esque "No-oh".

Then she proceeded to rip two My Little Ponies from their packages. One package won and she needed a band aid on her thumb. That didn't dissuade her from her mission, though.

In the end, she was victorious. She opened her toys and her brother's. Without any of my help.

Now to teach her to do laundry and she'll be ready for college. :)

Happy 4th birthday

Today, my little girl turned four. In reality, she's been four for a few weeks. There was this magical week when things changed.

The tantrums got oh so much more ... more.

The thought processes were so much more complex.

The ability to rationalize things really started coming in to play.

The lying. The lying started.

The ability to amaze me with what she could grasp: with her logic, with her physical capabilities, with her humor.

It's astounding how quickly the transition came about and how truly profound it is. She is, indeed, becoming more a thinking, rational person right before my eyes.

I want to freeze time and enjoy the now, but I don't want to miss what might come next.

So we plod on. She tells me that she's going to be 5 next. I told her I'd like to enjoy 4 for a while first.

Who needs stairs?

When you've got a 2-3 inch strip of base on the railing that you can use to carefully scale to the second floor...

*sigh*

Where you yell for your doll, waking your brother up. *grrr*

Writing leads to aging

Back in May, she wrote "mom" on the side of the tub and was crazy proud of herself. We had been working on tracing, but they taught them that one for Mother's Day cards at school.

A few weeks (couple of months at this point, maybe) she told me she wanted to write her name. She got 99% of it right copying what I'd written. We had to get the N's to not look like M's. Easy enough.

At this point, she's fully functional. She can write her name with no prompt. She can spell it for anyone that asks. She can find the keys on the computer and type it.

She asked to learn the other letters. We got a couple of workbooks: letters and numbers. She wanted more so we picked up cutting, pasting, and coloring. She's cutting like a pro. Her teachers say she's the only one whose pencil holding they don't have to correct.

She can identify most of the numbers. She's counting to almost 20 (which is amazing considering I rarely remember to help her count past 5 or 10). She's starting to play with addition on her fingers.

She can identify heaps of letters and is asking about sounds. She actually sounded out "hat" one day.

When did she become more 4 than 3?

Adventures in role play

From the back of the car in Midland, in the deepest little girl voice imaginable.

"Hi, Core, I'm DA. Hi, Cory, I'm Da! Hello Corin. Da says Hi! Da Da Da. Say hi to Da, C-man."

Repeat...while her parents just about die laughing in the front.

Intuitively obvious

Apparently AppleTV is simple enough for RC. I left her watching Blue while I went up to get Corin from his nap. I came back to her dancing like a mad woman around the living room to Deep Blue Something (the only artist on the thing right now). She proclaims, "I pushed something and made it make music."

Go Apple.

Fashionista

"Pink is the new purple," she tells Chrys. We haven't figured out if this means she no longer likes purple or what.

Where does she come up with this stuff?

Growth spurt

That was sudden. RC was wearing normal clothes today and yesterday (nothing bulky) and we couldn't get her buckled in to the car seat in either car without letting her buckles out. Two days. Two cars. Nothing major, but a little bit of extra room required.

She's leaned back out, too. You can see ribs again. She's got a freaking 6 pack that you can see when she sits up. She's strong. Crazy strong.

Chrys reminded me of something I read years ago that growth spurts can be quite sudden, but man... That seems a bit extreme.

Reading

We've been working on phonics with Ryanne. The other day, we were working on the letter C in a workbook I picked up. This one wanted her to pick the words that started with the letter C.

I pointed at the picture of the cake.
M: What's this?
R: Icing?
M: Well, yes, but what's the icing on?
R: Chocolate? (It was a chocolate cake)
M: *sigh* Yes, but a chocolate what?
R: Cake?
M: YES! Does that start with "kuh"?
R: YES!

It never dawned on me that working to give her a HUGE vocabulary would be detrimental to teaching her to read. Clearly we need a different style of workbook.

On marriage

Ryanne and Chrys were discussing me the other day. Chrys was explaining that I was his wife. Ryanne was arguing that I wasn't; I was her mommy. Chrys said that I was his wife, I had promised "to have and to hold." Ryanne replied that I *carried* her. That ended the discussion.

Not the teeth...

Today Ryanne was running around like she often does. She was getting hungry and spastic, as 3 years olds are wont to do.

She and the little girl she was running with crashed into each other.

Ryanne starts crying...far more than normal. Being half a head taller, she had smashed her teeth into the top of the other girl's head.

There was blood on the gumline of her top right tooth. It didn't stop for over 30 minutes. It wasn't gushing, but every time her saliva would wash it away, a new line would form. She said it hurt and bad. It didn't stop her from eating the McDonald's she asked for. (How could I say no?) She says it's better now.

We have a dentist appointment at 8:30am tomorrow to get it checked.

I hope it's nothing. I hope she didn't do any damage. I hope it's not going to die and grey. Thank GOD it's a baby tooth.

Waffles

Today, Chrys made me the chocolate chip waffles I requested. The kids had already eaten, but Ryanne wanted one. She ate all of it.

Ryanne: I hate waffles.
Daddy (looks at her nearly empty plate): No, you love waffles.
R: I hate them, too.
Mommy: There are no people that hate waffles in our house.
D: There are people that hate waffles. In general, I ridicule them.
R: You already killed them?
D: I ridicule them. I make fun of them.
R: You already killed them.
M: He teases them. He calls them names.

We get into a discussion about the definition of ridicule and it's not having any impact on her. At this point, Chrys and I have just about lost it. I came over here to write it down.

D (looks at me): Devil woman.
R (looks at daddy): You are a devil woman, too.
D: I have the wrong parts to be a devil woman.

Growing...

We've entered that phase. The one where she tries on her jeans from last winter and they're an inch or more too short. The Levi's she got from Aunt Chris last winter...yeah, those. I didn't have to let out the waist any, though.

I knew she had grown, but sheesh... Time to go through her closet. Again.

Creativity

I guess my making up songs is really sinking in with her.

In music class, we've been singing this Spanish song:

Agarra tu sombrero y pontelo
vamos a la playa calienta el sol
chiviriviri po pon po chiviriviri po pon po

Well, we're asked to make up our own verse to tell a story. We go around the circle and you can sing or pass. The first week, I made up a cool song about my pinky toe - since it was my first time in there in the shoe, it offered an easy way to explain what had happened. This week, I rambled about trying to go to Maine to see the kids' great-grandmother.

Well, this week, Ryanne was also asked if she wanted to make up a song. She did. She sang about meeting Anna at the park and playing in the house. She did an incredible job of following the meter of the music. It was amazing to listen to.

We'll be signing up for more music classes. Definitely.

Lullaby

Chrys and I used to take turns singing to her every night when she was younger. Then, as we nightweaned and Corin was born, he took over bedtime duty and, I think, began almost exclusively reading to her.

We've been playing with bedtime routines lately as we try to gently sleep train Corin. The result is that I get to sing to Ryanne at bedtime again. As with her books, she gets 3 songs. Usually she wants one of her Japanese songs - I only know 2 or 3, but it's enough. Then, she often requests one about her Purple Cat.

Purple Cat is a pillow made to look like the (no longer available - now they just have cocoa cats) purple cat Peeps that came out at Halloween. We got it on mega clearance one day when she was learning what a pillow was (almost 2 years ago).

There is no song that goes along with her Purple Cat. I made something up. It was 4 lines, rhyming dyads, nothing fancy. The next night, she wanted the song again. I couldn't remember what I had sung the night before so she got a new one. Now, she asks for it just about every night and I don't think I've repeated lyrics yet.

The last song is one I get to pick. I've sung "Sunshine on my Shoulders" (by John Denver) because my mom used to sing that to me. I've sung the chorus of "You are My Sunshine" because Chrys' mom used to sing that to him. (Ryanne also recognizes that as the song they sing at the end of the Biscuit Brothers concerts so she loves hearing that one. In fact, she started sining it in the car today on the way to the Y and it almost made me cry. She has the sweetest little voice. How's that for a tangent?) Sometimes I sing something from our Music Together classes. (Love those because I will apparently be reminded of, or learn, 1 or 2 new lullabies every session.) Chrys sings "Twinkle, Twinkle" in Latin and English or the "ABC"s and I've adopted those.

I always love finding new songs to sing, though. Anything anyone else remembers fondly or sings to their kids?

Skeevies

Ryanne has this thing where she'll grab one finger and sit and play with it. It started out not bothering me that much. She'd sit and hold one finger and it wasn't that weird. It really bugged Chrys very quickly. At this point, she almost always grabs my pinky and it's gotten to the point where it TOTALLY weirds me out. I just hate the sensation of having my pinky pulled back so she can grip it. I end up with chills and blech for FAR longer than she actually touches me. Ech.

Katamari

We've been letting Ryanne try her hand at Katamari Damacy more lately. She's really come a long way. She now deliberately moves the katamari to different locations. I don't know yet that she separates the finger motions, at least not purposefully. She can roll various directions, chase things (and catch them), and turn around pretty well. It's really phenomenal how far she's come.

She's still not fast at it. Right now, she's playing a level to get to 10m so she can take as long as she wants and when she gets bored, we'll see how close she got. That's just about perfect for her.

This came after her first lessons learning to knit today. She does pretty well wrapping the yarn. She could tell me what motions to make with the needles, but didn't want to totally control them on her own. Still impressive for 3.5.

Crafty

Ryanne is in love with the new JoAnn's superstore. It has fabric and pretty purple yarn and 'crafts' and so much goodness in one store. She asks to go there on a regular basis - at least weekly.

On one of our first trips, she wanted a build your own bear thing. They had The Hulk, a princess, a ballerina and SpiderMan to choose from. My girl wanted SpiderMan. Desperately. She was pretty rude about it so we didn't get it. Next time we were in the store, she actually remembered it and asked very nicely. I had a 50% off coupon - yay internetz - so we got it.

We got home and we sat down on the floor and got it stuffed. She didn't particularly like that process so I ended up doing a lot of it. Then it was time to name it. She picked Spider Mater, in honor of two of her favorite characters these days. She loves dressing Spider Mater in his costume.

Last week, she decided she needed to knit. She wanted to knit for me - I'm working on a skirt for her these days. I asked her how she knitted and she started waving her hands around frantically in the air. I told her it was a much smaller motion and she started waving in small circles in the air. We now have one skein of yarn that she picked - purple, of course - and some kid length size 10 needles because on her last trip to JoAnn's she insisted that I teach her to knit. I'll see if I can get her started on a small scarf. I figure even if she just knits the whole thing it would be pretty amazing feat for a 3 year old.

She loves foamies and stickers and glitter glue. She's getting MUCH better with scissors. She's really enjoying her play-doh. I think she got the art gene that exists in both families, but seems to have skipped her father and me.

Shape matching

The other day we were at McAlister's Deli eating dinner. She points up at the wall and says, "It says Subway." Chrys and I both turn around and study the signs. Finally, I get that she's pointing at the one that says "Spud Max" - one of their menu items. Given her constant confusion of M and W, and typical 3 year old dyslexic tendencies for the d/b, she's pretty darn close.

I think she's going to be reading sooner rather than later.

Another goodbye

My uncle (dad's brother) passed away on Saturday. I've mentioned it to Ryanne, but I think with so much talk of death lately she's losing any concept of it as a rare and permanent thing.

This one we're deciding for her. She didn't get much that happened at her great-grandfather's service. She constantly tells me that she's getting things or going to see Granpa Fitz, even though she knows he's dead. She's staying here with Chrys while C-man and I go to Midland for the day tomorrow.

I hope she doesn't resent it later. I don't think she'll care, other than being mad that I've gone anyplace without her.

Pump...you up!

When we're in Midland, Chrys relies on single bags to support his coffee addiction. Last time, Ryanne came by and sat watching him lift the bag in and out of the mug.

R: "Daddy are you pumping coffee?"
C: "Well, uhm, yes"

It certainly isn't brewing because the coffee it produces isn't that good. :) So...all you bag tea and coffee drinkers...pump on.

One way ticket, please

Tonight, RC was running around the house. Corin was trying to follow her. She lapped him. She pushed him out of the way in the living room and he fell over. She tripped over the threshold, slid on something and ended up hurting her foot/ankle - nothing severe, but you'd think it was the end of the world.

Chrys: That's God's way of telling you not to run over your brother.
RC (whining): Ohhhh, Goooood.

Yeah, Chrys just bought his ticket.

Easter candy

R: Distraught. "Mommy, where are my beaks?"
M: Not understanding the last word. "Your what?"
R: "Where are my beeeeeeeaaaaakkkkkksssss?"
M: "Your beats?"
R: Getting frustrated "My beaKs."
M: "Your beaks?"
R: "Yes"
M: "What are beaks?"
R: Points at the half wall between the kitchen and the dinette where her Easter candy had been. "My BEAKS."
M: "Oh, your Peeps?"
R: "My peats?"
M: "PeePs"
R: sighs "Peeps. Where are my Peeps?"
M: "Daddy ate them. You watched him eat them."
R: Starting to cry. "But I wanted them."

At that point, Chrys started explaining that they had been there for a long time, they were getting hard, she hadn't eaten one of them. Yeah, didn't matter. She was pissed.

The "write" sentiment

She walked up to me very excited.

R: "Mommy, I wroted dem happy birfdays."
M: "What?"

She waves something at me and speaks very slowly.

R: "I. wroted. dem. happy. birfdays."
M: "You wrote happy birthday to whom?"

Hands me the checkbook for my dad's estate account.

R: "Dem"

I flip through it. Her "writing" (read as, wavy lines that approximate written text) covers many of the checks. I sigh.

M: "It's beautiful, darling. Where did you find this?"

She points at the table.

M: "Please tell me next time you want to write in something that isn't yours." Because that's going to matter... Damn, I wish she wasn't so cute.

Just what I need

On our way home from San Antonio last weekend, we stopped at Starbucks because the traffic sucked, Corin was cranky and I was thirsty.

I got a decaf something. RC came up and asked for a sip. She got one.

She runs away. She runs back up to me. "I like caffeine!" She runs off again. She runs back. "Ryanne, there's no caffeine in my drink." She looks disappointed. "I love chocolate!" She runs off again, laughing like a mad woman.

How to say goodbye?

Ryanne's great-grandfather passed away this morning. We got the call while we were out for lunch.

I don't know how to explain it to Ryanne. I asked her today if she remembered him and she does. I told her that we wouldn't see him again. I told her that he had died - she knows the word, but doesn't grasp the permanence, yet. I told her he would be in our memories, but we wouldn't be able to see him anymore. I suspect quite a bit more explanation will be required in the coming months, but maybe not.

I don't know whether she'll ask. I don't know how much to prompt her. I was about her age when my grandfather died and I remember that. I remember not being allowed to go to the funeral, and not understanding why. I intend to follow her lead as far as her attendance at any memorial things that are held.

I do intend to let her listen to him tell her about Rover tomorrow. She'll always have that. Maybe that will help start our conversation.

Mine Mine

Last week, Chrys and I were playing around with Ryanne. She was hollering that something was hers and we started saying, "Mine Mine" (a la the albatrosses from Nemo). She suddenly got very upset.

R: "Not yours." she says to me
M: "Mine"
R: "I'm mommy's AND daddy's!"

Poor baby thought we were arguing over who she belonged to. We quickly assured her that she was both of ours and the crying was over.

Menstruating

Ryanne is obsessed with my cycles. I remember being very intrigued by the process as a young child, as well, but not quite to the extent that she is. She constantly asks about my pads and if she's going to bleed on certain days, etc.

The most interesting, though, is when we find her panties stuffed full of toilet paper. She says it's "in case she bleeds" and will seek out the wad, should she lose it at potty time to diligently replace it in her panties until bed time.

This is one of those where I'm hoping some of the genes from Chrys' side get in and put off the onset of puberty, but I'm not terribly optimistic.

The Prestige

If you haven't seen this movie, I'm going to fill this with spoilers so consider yourself warned.

It's apparently time to begin limiting what RC sees. She's starting to process more and more of what she sees on TV and is deeply impacted by things.

Last week, we watched The Prestige when we were at Aunt Kity's house for dinner. It was disturbing to me. Chrys says it's because I saw it through her eyes.

The first point came with Angier's wife was stuck in the water. She was panicking and Ryanne commented that she was yelling for help, but no one could hear her. I think she assumed that because no one could hear her, they didn't know to help her. I tried to explain that they were trying to help her, but couldn't get the glass broken fast enough. She looked at me when Angier bent to check on her and asked "What happened to his (mommy's real first name)?" Chrys and I suspect that she thinks my first name is just another title for my status to Chrys. It's an interesting conclusion.

From there, she had other issues. There was the Tesla machine that creeped her out because it was electricity and she didn't understand what it was doing - she thought it was hurting him. She picked up on the fact that it was bad, though. She didn't like seeing the tanks of men. She didn't like the bird killing. She didn't like the sad music. Etc.

It's just time to stop letting her be in the room for stuff like that. She's no longer just in the room, but really trying to process what's going on and it's deeply affecting her.

Spelling and reading

The other day, Ryanne asked me to write my name for her to trace it. She handed me the pen and paper, "Write mommy like m-o-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m." When did she pick that up?

I picked up a copy of this book to start teaching her to read. She's shown a lot of interest in sounds and letters and pretends to read stuff all the time. I figured she was almost ready. The first lesson is sounding out "m" and "s". We did that and the next day she was pointing to them on signs and telling me she saw "mmmmmm"s and "ssssss"s. That was fast.

The next part of the lesson is learning to take words that are slow or fast and speed them up or slow them down. The example in the book for slow word is "motor (pause) boat". She's instructed to say it fast.

M: "Motor (pause) boat" Now you say it fast.
R: "Fast."
M: "No, you say motor (pause) boat fast"
R: "Motorboat fast"
M: "Leave off the fast and just say motorboat without pausing like mommy does."
R: "Motorboat faster"

This went on for quite some time. Chrys almost hurt himself laughing. She just didn't get the game and the explanation in the book wasn't helping. She got the repeating and then was having a hard time with the instruction instead of repeating the words used. There was a second round of these games.

M: I'm going to say a word and then you say it fast. "Mmmmmmmeeeeeee"
R: "Yyyyyyooooouuuuuu fast"

You get where this is going. Oy the frustration. I gave up on the lesson after 10 minutes or so. Maybe we'll try again next week.

Hungry much?

Today, Chrys was preparing the leftovers for lunch. Ryanne saw her spaghetti and wanted that.

R: I want my pasketti.
C: Do you want it hot or cold?
R: I want a fork.

She ate most of that and then downed two tacos and a bowl of rice for dinner.

Pants 2" too short, you say?

Busy weekend

Last weekend was insane for us.

Friday night, we went to the Lipizzaner Stallions. Ryanne didn't like being shown all of the horses and then having them leave, but ended up seeming to enjoy it. Chrys and I were meh.

Saturday was moderately quiet. She decided that she didn't want to go skating again so we may end up just doing free skate instead of classes. We'll see how this week goes. We went to play with some friends in town whom we haven't seen for weeks. They jumped on the trampoline and played dress-up and it was all good.

Sunday, I took her to Lion King (the musical). She was enraptured. I don't think she really looked away from the stage for the first act. She loved the kids. She loved the colors and the costumes. And then Aunt Kity let her borrow the binoculars - oooooooo! She traded laps a lot in the second act, but was singing Hakuna Matata today so I know some of it sunk in. She wanted a blue hat when we were done, but they didn't have kids hats, much less blue ones. I think she was a bit disappointed in the t-shirt.

I inadvertently had Chrys buy tickets to the Ice Bats game Sunday afternoon. I called on the way home (as the game started) and we said we'd see how it went. Ryanne was whiny and we had pretty much decided we weren't going when she asked VERY nicely if we could please go to the hockey game. Well, it totally jazzed her up. She went from whiny and barely consolable to totally energized, laughing and having a great time.

She woke on Monday happy as could be. She's deteriorated throughout the week.

So...this leaves me wondering. Is she bored? Or, God forbid, are Chrys and I seriously expected to raise an extrovert?

I think she figured us out

Ever since she got her bed, Ryanne has been convinced that she can't get out of it without one of us present. This was great because it gave her time to wake up and she'd sing-song calling us when she was ready, plus she went to bed quickly because she wasn't up playing.

She's walked out into the hallway a couple of times if she's heard us downstairs, but it's been few and far between.

Last night, she was up playing with all of her toys instead of going to bed (again, stupid daylight savings). This morning, I heard toys and then she walked into my room.

I think the sanctity of the bed may be broken...

Her name

Ryanne has started being able to copy her name from a source. She did it on her chalkboard after bringing home a piece of paper from school with a few copies. The "NNE" is relatively clear. The "RYA" is hit or miss since those tails can get kind of out of control. I just can't believe she's writing.

The hitting

I am so tired of the hitting, kicking, throwing stuff around. I realize that this is yet another normal phase, but AHHHHHHHH I am so tired of being hit or having Corin hit just because she's frustrated.

My head hurts. Turns out that a 3 year old's purse is pretty heavy.

Radio

We had no clock in Corin's room. We had one clock in Ryanne's room - a buzzer style alarm. We had two clocks in ours - the one that projects on the ceiling and the clock radio. We also have a mini stereo with a clock in it that we typically use for radio, but not for clock.

I wanted a clock in Corin's room. We decided it would be a real treat for Ryanne to move her clock into C's room and put the clock radio in her room. She knows how to operate the clock radio. She likes leaving music on for daddy.

Today, Chrys put it in there.

Tonight, she's still awake and the radio is on. She keeps playing with it.

Yeah, I'm sure it has nothing to do with the stupid daylight savings time. It's the radio. I'm sure of it.

Brothers are gross

Ryanne has major issues with any bodily fluid coming from Corin.

He drools on her toys. She gags.
He spits up on the floor. She gags.
He spits up on her. She starts heaving.
She watches Chrys change a particularly nasty diaper. She starts gagging AND heaving.

Thankfully, she has never followed through and thrown up because of something he did. I am sure it will happen someday.

Why is it that she can't turn away or wipe it off and move on? That would make my life too easy, wouldn't it?

Thump THUMP

That would be the number one reason that Ryanne typically doesn't wipe her own poops on the toilet. What goes thump THUMP when she does? Her...falling off.

One thump is no biggie. Two and we both went running. Chrys found her with her tush up in the air, one hand and feet on the floor, other hand waving toilet paper in the air as she proclaimed, "I fewl."

New shovel

Ryanne got her first shovel today. It's got a wood handle and a solid metal scoop end - whatever that's called. It's not quite as tall as she is. It's a good fit.

When we were looking at them at the store, I asked her if she knew what it was. She declared that she needed it for the litter. She would 'scoop and scoop the cat's poops and pees'. I explained that it was for dirt outside and not for the kitty litter. She got very excited.

We got home and she wanted to play outside. We put a sleeping Corin in his crib and went out in the backyard where I showed her how to dig up weeds with her shovel - heck, I'm not buying it and having it go to waste.

Corin woke up so we came in. Once I had him, Ryanne said she wanted to go back outside. There's not really a good place for him out there right now (with half our bushes in the middle of the yard until we get the chainsaw fixed). I asked if she was ok out there alone. She said she would be fine.

There she is - outside playing in the dirt while I keep Corin from climbing up the stairs. Shovels breed independence, I guess. I'm just hoping that Chrys is wrong and the shovel isn't the new best thing for making ants 'happy'.

Ice skating

Ryanne had her first ice skating lesson on Saturday. She says she had fun.

She didn't see me get on the ice for my lesson so she kept trying to leave to find me. Clearly, I need to do a better job of letting her see where I go to avoid that next week.

She actually moved. They don't teach gliding or anything to them immediately so she's just taking baby march steps across the ice. They pushed a crate around. I think I saw her carrying stuff at one point.

She fell 2 or 3 times and wasn't too happy about that. The last time, I was there with her and "fell" down with her. We stood up together and that seemed to help her. She kept wanting to grab me and hold my hands, but I'm so unstable that I would steer her back to doing it on her own.

She says she is excited about going back next week. I know I am. We'll miss one lesson so we get to do a Tuesday make-up. That will let Chrys and Corin come with us and get some pictures of her.

The thing I think I enjoyed most, though, was the bit of time alone with her. I didn't have to juggle Corin or worry about ignoring him. He stayed home with Chrys and I got time alone with my girl. It was fun to share it with her and I hope we can keep it up.

The other 'word'

That I knew I wanted to record...

"raze" - usage "Mommy are you going to raze? With your razor?"

I love this age. Don't know a word - come up with something based on the information provided.

Sibling interaction

It's really cool to watch Ryanne interact with Corin (and vice versa, to be honest, but that's for his journal). I am reasonably sure that she just adores him. She loves nothing more than to captivate him and get him laughing. She will do all sorts of crazy stuff to get his attention and then anything more to keep it. She loves making him laugh - the louder the better. She loves to grab him in hugs and roll around on the floor with her arms wrapped around him.

Serious adoration.

I grow tired of the 3s

True, we haven't had a day like today in a long while, but man they just push all of my buttons.

I think I had to yell every request at her (after 3 times of getting progressively louder and even touching her or getting closer to try to get her to focus on me). When I would ask her a question, she'd stare blankly at me. When I asked her to pick stuff up, she'd go over and move it around instead of picking it up. Even given specific, micromanaged tasks to complete a project, she'd do something that was obviously not what she was asked to do.

I am really tired of testing limits.

Flying

Ryanne went upstairs to put her blanket in her room. She came downstairs with her butterfly wings and crown. She asked for help getting her new skirt on.

Then she explained to me that we needed to go outside so she could fly in the wind. She would go up and down and up again. She would fly all over.

We went outside.

She hunkered down and jumped as high as she could. She looked and me and then hung her head in despair.

M: "Ryanne, what's wrong?"
R: "I cannot fly."
M: "What about pretend flying? Can you pretend to fly?"
R: "Mommy, I cannot pretend because I cannot fly."

Worry not, she recovered quickly and was soon running circles around the patio declaring that she COULD fly in circles all over.

New ending

Ryanne was singing the ABCs this weekend...

"Now I know my ABCs. Next time won't you sing with cheese...and broccoli."

I almost drove us off the road laughing.

How to get a 3 year old to clean?

Point the newly mobile brother at her stuff and then holler that he's about to eat whatever it is. You'll hear a scream of "No, Corin. No, Corin. NO, CORIN!" as she runs across the floor, but the object will be collected and put in its proper location. I knew there was a reason I wanted a second kid.

Conversations with a 3 year old

R:"Happy Valancetime's Day!"

R:"What's your name?"
M:"Mommy (Mommy's real name)"
s utjkjehfn l fjngb fhgb h gh g (RC's entry)
*scribbles on the paper*
R:"What's Daddy's name?"
M:"Daddy (Daddy's real name)"
*scribbles on the paper*
R:"What's Aunt (Fyoire)'s name?"
M:"uhm. Aunt (Fyoire's real name)"
*scribbles on the paper*
R:"What's Uncle (RoaminUmp)'s name?"
M:"Heh. Uncle (RoaminUmpire - note the longer version, I did that with his name)."
*scribbles on the paper while giggling*
R:"What's Granpa's name?"
M:"Bampa (real name)"
R:"Nooooo! That's not his name."

R:"Look, Mommy, I grew a penis"
M:"No, RC, that's poop."
R:"I will grow a penis when I am bigger"
M:"Not without medical intervention."
R:"Medical enter bent un?"
M:"Not without a doctor."
R:"The doctor will help me grow a penis?"
M:"If that's what you want."
R:"I will want a penis."
M:"We'll talk about it again in a few years."
R:"We will talk about it later."

R:"I will be so excited"
M:"You're not excited now?"
R:"No, but I will be."
*waits a few minutes*
R:"Now, I am excited!"

Where does she get this stuff?

Tonight, on our way to dinner, Ryanne was standing under the tree in the yard.

She is trying to coax an imaginary friend out of it. She has her arms out.

"Hey, Steve, you are stuck in the tree. C'mon I will help you down. I will catch you. Jump."

The imaginary friend, presumably jumps.

She pulls her hands back, looks at the ground, "Oopsy, you fell. Are you ok?"

She's not mean, but sometimes I wonder.

Definitely sick

She just rolled over on the couch and passed out. There's something really funny going on.

Poor kid has kept down breastmilk and maybe a bit of water today. Cheerio paste is disgusting to clean up.

Christening the van

363 days. That's how long I made it before the van had any form of bodily fluid in the upholstery. Ryanne took care of it for me today.

She was complaining all afternoon about a tummy ache. She does this periodically and it's nothing or she's hungry or she needs to go to the bathroom, etc. Today, she would be walking around and then suddenly double over in pain. She couldn't tell me more about what was wrong so I went with the hungry thing, since she'd hardly eaten.

Well, about 4pm, we were on the way home and she just started hurling. Most of it ended up in her lap, the rest on the car seat and leaking on to her chair. We were only about a mile from home so she didn't have sit in it long. I got her inside, undressed, wiped off and into her pajamas. Then she sat and watched Blue.

When daddy got home, he took over and I went outside, took the seat out, hosed it down and brought the cover in to wash. Hopefully it all dries in time to reassemble it tomorrow for school.

She's wiped, but seems to be feeling ok. She skipped dinner - understandably - but did nurse some this afternoon and kept that down. She was cuddly - the high point of a sick kid - and ended up falling asleep in my arms as I sat with her in the floor of the kitchen, after telling me that she wasn't going to bed because it was still 'lighty' (sunny) outside. I woke her up putting her in bed and she asked me to read her one book. She wanted her bedtime stories, but knew she wasn't up for 3 books like normal. I think it was a little after 6 when she went down. I'm torn between wondering if she'll sleep late or be up at the crack of dawn. I guess it depends on how she feels.

Ryanne speak

She's got her own dialect for many things. Some of the more recent favorites:

Swippy: Sleepy (This one's actually been around for a long time. I will be so sad to hear it go.)
Whoa-ed: World
Twankle: Twinkle (Yeah, she's a Texan, accept it)

She was tired in the car. Corin was fussy. She was singing to soothe him. I realized I needed to get some of these written down before I forgot about them. There ya have it.

I am not nice

Ryanne loves to play on the edge of the fountain at the Y. Everything from walking on the wrong side of the bars to hanging on the bars to just doing front supports on the edge of the fountain. She's usually very careful and holds on to the bar. She has decent balance and holds her arms out, etc.

Today, she had an audience in her friend Anna. They were both horsing around. They were even hanging off the bars near the top. That's not usually one of the things I allow and I was getting ready to call her on it.

Then she slipped. Into the fountain she goes, backpack first. She came up quickly - thanks to being very comfortable in the water. She reported no pain. She was breathing fine.

At that point, I couldn't help laughing. That's why I'm not nice. She was cold, wet and miserable and I thought it was hilarious. Partly because she wasn't injured. Partly because I've warned her to be careful dozens of times and she's always told me that she's not going to fall. She looked so pitiful.

I got her to the car and stripped her down. I wrapped her in my overshirt (thank goodness I wore a flannel today) and got her in her seat.

In the car, she drew pictures of herself upside down in the water. She erased them before I could snap a shot.

Now, she says she's cold, but she won't go get dressed. She's totally naked and wrapping herself up in whatever blankets sge can find.

Chrys and I had thought we noticed her showing the signs of a growth spurt. One of those is that she gets INSANELY clumsy. I guess we'll see how her clothes fit in a couple of weeks.