Zoology

How not to look at the monkeys.

Lily has learned the word "more" a little too well. Currently, if Lily needs anything at all or wants anything she can't get, we hear her meek little, "More?" come wafting across the room. Always with the sign, too; she's aces at that. For example: this morning, she was buckling the stroller straps. This activity gives her endless amounts of pleasure. Lacking the dexterity to undo the buckles, she asked Jen for help.

"Mooore?" she wailed.

Jen walked over. "Do you mean 'help'?"

"Heeee-eelp?" she corrected herself.

Jen undid the buckles and walked away. A few seconds later came this:

"Thaank you."

Unbelievable.

Today we went to CostCo. I'm starting to realize that CostCo is a pretty shady place and has some fairly above average prices for a lot of things. But cruising the place with the girls and letting them sup the samples is a nice cheap way to get my kids fed, so put one in their win column for that.

After lunch/nap, we went to the Como Zoo. I like the como zoo. They have an ostrich that sits there for hours pecking at the fence. They have puddles for splashing. They have giraffes, which are just awesome no matter how many times you see them. The girls went mental a couple times, but the important thing is that they both recognized the animals and seemed to actually enjoy pointing at them and laughing. Lily tried pointing out the animals to other park goers, which won her some fans but no tip money.

Abby seemed to especially love the aquariums, but I'm not sure if it was for the fish or the simple sapphire spectacle of water behind glass. Meh...whatever makes her happy.

Day two hundred and twenty two.

Abby peeping at some fishies.

Puddles! May have been water, maybe zebra pee runoff...who cares when it's this fun!?

Ostriches...the most untrustworthy of all the beasts?

No shirt. No shoes. No daycare.

We got a polite yet firm note from daycare today; it explained that we will be required to bring Abby with different shoes. It seems that the ones she has come off too easily. The problem: that kid loves to take her shoes off, which is strange, since she loves also having her shoes on. That's the thing with kids...no logic at all. Her shoe-taking-off skills have progressed now to a stage where she can do it with just her feet, which is kinda rad because it's such an adult way to take your shoes off. Good for her!

She is also quite adept at taking de-socking her feet in the exact same manner. None of this is new for us, of course. For many months now we've been watching shoes and socks come out from under the stroller we're using to walk the girls around the mall of america.

I had hoped that the advent of her walking would squelch this innate desire of hers to wrest her feet from cobbled confinement. She prefers to walk in shoes, so it would stand to reason that she would want to leave them on. As it happens, the opposite is true: she's started taking them off more regularly.

I'm not sure exactly how new shoes are going to help. The wee little sneaks she's got right now fit perfectly and brandish three whole velcro straps. I can still take them off without undoing to straps (that's her method as well), so I'm not sure if new shoes will help. This might be a really interesting way to get booted from day care...

Lily and her shoes are a-okay. Whew.

Day two hundred and twenty one.

We've gotten the pacifier usage to just for bed time. I'm happy with that.

I like this one of Abs.

Go Wild! A chant that works for hockey and toddlers alike.

Abby the sea captain...Aarrgh.

Last days of summer.

Peas in a pod.

Lily on the move.

Dave had the opportunity to go to the Wild game tonight. My gift to him is completing the blog so he can come home and relax, or at least go to bed at a decent time for a change. This is not altruistic, it is completely selfish. Despite my best intentions each night, I find myself waiting up until he's done with the blog before I go to bed. Tonight I want to go to bed early, thus my kind act of blogging.

The girls have both been sources of great fun and frustration lately. Those of you with children older than ours are now collectively thinking, "duh, they're toddlers". For those of you whose children are not yet toddlers, just you wait, you'll understand.

I met with Abby's teacher, physical therapist, and case manager through the school district yesterday for Abby's six-month review. If this was a job performance review, Abby would be up for a promotion. She's come so far in her goals that the decision was made to make a "significant change" to her PT gross motor goals. And we're reducing her PT to only every other week. Yeah Abs! I feel like she just graduated into a new grade level ahead of schedule. She even hit another milestone today. She was walking down the sidewalk, fell, then got back up again and kept walking. This was the first time she's gotten up to standing unassisted. Once she figured it out, she did it a few more times. Hooray!

Lily has decided to make it clear that she is a huge fan of time-outs. That is the only conclusion a rational person can reach. Why else would she insist on hitting Dave and I every chance she gets, over and over, time out after time out? I asked day care if they've had a problem with her doing this and they were surprised. Apparently they'd just been discussing what an easy toddler she is, so helpful and sweet. I guess she reserves her frustrations for us. I do understand what they mean though. When Lily isn't reaching her hand back into striking position, she is a sweetheart. And she has been mommy's little helper lately. She likes being assigned a task, like bringing Abby her snack or sippy cup (not until she also has hers of course). And this morning she brought me Abby's shoes while I was getting Abs dressed. So sweet. The fact that she hasn't given either of us a black eye or broken my glasses when smacking me is amazing. Little darling.

Sorry for the recycled pictures, the battery was dead in the camera tonight.

Day two hundred and twenty

Best five I've ever gotten.

Tonight, Jen was unfortunately absent for another school-related thingamajib. The girls, sensing my fantastic vulnerability, took it relatively easy on me.

Two moments from the night that stuck out.

Lily came to the gate while I was in the kitchen, asking for a couple of pretzels. It should be known that we feed our kids most of the normal bar fare. So I forked over a couple pretzel sticks, and, trying to coax some manners from her, said, "Thank you! Say, 'Thank you'!"

Lily didn't respond, but from around the corner and 26 feet away, I heard Abby - barely audible yet unmistakable - say, "Baank yooo."

The other:

Lily kept climbing on and off the stroller. When she did it the first time without help, I screamed, "Yay!" and asked her to slap me five. She politely declined. The next 10 times she climbed on and jumped off, I asked for five and she said no. Eventually, I lost interest, stopped asking, and concentrated on something Abby was doing.

Out of nowhere, Lily walked over, pried my hands into a flat surface, slapped me five, then forcibly curled it back into a closed position.

Bossy? Yes. Cute as hell? Oh yeah.

Day two hundred and nineteen.

Saddest girl at the ball.

Funniest girl on the porch.

Lazy blogging...bad Daddy.

Luck was with me as I caught this image of Lily at the very moment when a very hearty laugh turned the corner for a very hearty cry. I don't recall her having a good reason for being upset; it was as if the laugh itself made her sad.

Abby looks...almost kinda suave? That's how track suits make you feel. Particularly so when they're emblazoned with "Adorable" across the front. Bada-bing!

I squandered most of the night doing dishes and watching old Office reruns. In brief:

- Lily chased a butterfly around the yard today. She also happily munched a bean that I pulled off the vine.
- Both kids shared some flowers with our neighbor, Esther.
- Neither kid was happy that I wouldn't spray them with the hose again.
- Abby poured three glasses of water right into her face. She does this from time to time, but what made this notable is that she actually thought it was funny instead of crying about it.

Sorry it's a short one tonight.

Day two hundred and eighteen.

Abby spotted in the wild behind the sumac.

Caught in the act.

Tales of the Cantankerous Kid and the Human Mood Ring

Jen told me something tonight after she got home.

"You know," she offered sagely, "a day featuring the best moments with the kids can be easily tainted when the day also includes some of the worst moments with the kids."

There was a good reason she was proffering this apt platitude. ("apt platitude" has a nice ring to it. Mmmm...I love words.) My youngest (by 11 minutes) and largest (by 29 pounds) kid, Lily Ellen, spent the evening brazenly daring me to lose my temper. My hands and hair are sore from running the former through the latter. It was a long evening, and I'm grateful to Jen's CBE group (in case any of them read this) that they are efficient folk and sent my wife home earlier than I'd expected her.

This trial of a day started when I picked her up. Usually, she runs right into my proudly waiting arms. Today...straight away from me. When I finally got her in a good spot, I bent down to pick her up and she went boneless (credit to Mo Willems for that altogether genius phrase). She flopped to the floor, writhing, making a scene, apparently unwilling to leave day care. When I finally got her scooped into my grasp, *smack* went her deliberate hand right into my face. Sigh. (As a positive, I love that I can give her a look after she hits me and she knows (I think she knows??) that what she just did was wrong. If I do the look well enough, it is enough to set her to bawling, which is hilarious and wrong and yet also hilarious.)

When we pulled up to the house, she (very cutely) said "More?" and did the proper sign. I didn't know what she was talking about. Apparently, she wanted more car ride, because when I pulled her out she flailed right out of my arms and onto the boulevard.

Grandpa Neil was at the house for just a bit when we got home. She wouldn't even say hi to him.

I'll sum up the night, rather than recapitulate the entire thing, minute detail by minute detail. She was just set to go off at every turn. I accidentally grabbed something she was playing with at one point, and she pretty much headbutted me and screeched at a decibel level I heretofore thought impossible from any mortal person. This was followed by a 5 minute session of screeching and writhing.

This was repeated often.

But you know, I think Jen might have gotten it wrong after all. For I'm already finding the bad things slipping from my memory, slightly faded and playing hard to get in my synapses. My memory of the night is like panning for gold...the bad stuff is getting silted through, and I can now only clearly remember the gold.

During dinner, Abby delicately reached over and gave Lily a piece of her ham. Lily took it and uber-clearly said, "Thank you."

I had them both rolling with laughter when I brought out their favorite hand-puppet, Jacques the French Canadian Moose.

Right before bedtime, Lily leaned in to give me a kiss, and instead she put her nose in my mouth. Rather than pull back, she opted to breath out really firmly, unmistakably depositing a few loogies in my mouth.

I started laughing like Ernie from Sesame Street during dinner, and Lily followed suit for almost 5 minutes with no prompting. At the end, it was almost like she was possessed, but possessed hilariously.

I've been counting to ten a lot with both kids, and I think they both almost get it. Since the numbers actually elude them, they just list off nonsensical words but with the exact same intonation I use to count (raised at the end, like a question):

Me: "Wuu-UN. Tooo-OOH. Three-EE." etc.
Them: "Geee-OORP. Blooo-UURD. Skkeee-IEW."

I turned the hose on the kids in the yard, and they are both morons for water. Zombies. They just walk right into the stream like lemmings to a precipice.

So, yeah, what was I saying, who was crabby? Did I say that? It's slipped my mind.

Day two hundred and seventeen.

ps. I've OD'd on kid pictures again. Here are some castoffs from my Poho365 shoots, all of them from the park. They're fun to include here, I think, so the girls can get a glimpse of our surroundings when they were still wee girls.

pps. This is last minute, and I'm too tired to include in the main body, but I should explain the title. I've taken to calling Abby the Human Mood Ring because she is extraordinarily sensitive to Lily (and other people's) moods. If Lily starts losing it, there is almost 100% chance that Abby will join in within a few seconds. It's kinda cute, but infuriating because it's like an avalanche of crabby that feeds off itself. Conversely, I've seen Abby laugh when Lily laughed, even though she has no idea why she is laughing. She's just very in tune with other people's moods. It's cute. She has a lot of empathy, I think.

An oak tree, I think? Trimmed at one point, now bursting out with a vengeance, seeking retribution on whomever pruned him.

A lonely bench, looking for a tired powderhornian.

Andre, a local filmmaker and all around solid and well-versed individual.

Banner, and crowd retreating to the next stage of "The Buddha Prince."

This post (mostly) gripe free! I'd guess it to be 97% free of complaints of any kind!

Lily and me at the powderhorn get together. Photos by Amy Wurdock...all rights reserved, or something like that.

Blanked! That's okay, my kiss-landing percentage is around 50%. With Abby it's higher, and sometimes peppered with tongue. Blech.

I've been warned that if I gripe about anything else in tonight's post, I will lose a reader. But I ask you this: how would she know what's going on with her kids if she stops reading?!? Ha! Empty threats, Jenner.

But let me just say one thing. I biked to my Dad's today, and there was construction on the LRT bike trail. Seriously, contruction has run rampant and it must be stopped. Okay, that's all.

What can I write about a Sunday so blissfully bereft of any pulse-pounding happenings. The girls and us parents went to a new playground today. We're expanding our horizons, dragging a toe in the waters of Minneapolis' public parks system. I think it would be a fun Saturday project to try and bring the kids to every single park/playground in the city. Maybe a Saturday and a Sunday. I can only imagine how easy it would be for the kids to be plopped into a swing, given two mighty pushes, then wrenched back out and into the car again. As it is, if we spend less than a solid hour at the playground, they make an earsplitting case for staying just a bit longer.

Sometime this week, I listened during my commute to an NPR story about Ricky Skaggs. It was a good piece; my interest was held far better than during their normal daily lap around the economy/health care pool. He spoke about his baptism into music-making, when his father slipped a mandolin into his bed while he was sleeping. When the young Ricky woke up, there was a mandolin next to him. I loved the spontaneity of that act. It reminded me of the random things my parents did for us. I recall a night in Duluth when they - possibly tipped off by the nightly news, I don't know - tore me out of bed so we could drive into the country (this was Duluth, so the country was really just a few minutes away) and watch a meteor shower that was peaking that night. Could have been the Perseids, maybe the Leonids.

One of my greatest fears as a parent (other than my kids turning invariably into jerks) is that I won't attain a happy level of spontaneous events in the girls' lives. I didn't fear this pre-kids; now, though, when I find myself thinking back on our daily lives and the schedules carved out of routine, it gives me pause. I need to remember to be ready at all times to whip the kids out of bed to show them something awesome.

Since they're too young to remember things, I think I have a couple years to prepare. I'll plan to master spontaneity in the meantime.

Day two hundred and sixteen.

Animal cracker goes in the hand. Hand goes in the mouth. Shark is in the mouth. Our shark.