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.

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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. :)