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JJ + AA

It seems strange to scrounge around for pictures tonight, seeing as we had some professional photography done this morning. This is the very first actual shoot we've done with the girls, so we're excited. I hope we get some good shots, but not hopeful, since the girls were a bit difficult. They didn't exactly have their A game going on, and they are at that age where it's just impossible to get them to do what you want. They are untamable little beasties. They cannot be reasoned with. Still, we had a good time, and are very grateful to Karen for the time and energy she put into chasing our monkeys around the Como Conservatory.

I'm glad we chose Como, since I was totally unaware of how impressive that place is. Not many places you can go in the cities, walk in the door, and check out a tree sloth for free.

Tonight we headed over to the Moores' for dinner. There was a couple times when, if not for the briefest of moments, the girls kinda occupied each other and we got to feel like real parents. By real parents, I mean the ones you remember from your childhood, those stolid folk that sat around in lawn chairs drinking beer and discussing Reaganomics while you tore up the yard playing epic games of tag. I was wondering when child autonomy would start happening...I think we're getting close.

Thanks to Chris and Emily for a great dinner!

Also, to answer Lori from yesterday (thanks Lori for a great question! Aren't you guys supposed to be on vacation!? Stop reading the blog!), I am a magician with kids' clothes. Actually, it was easy, she was wearing a one-piece jumper (which we got from a used clothes bin and caused a hotly contested debate between Jen and I as to whether it was pajamas or not), and the thing had snaps on the bottom. So, sorry it's not more interesting an answer involving feats of contortionism and fancy clothes extraction.

Day two hundred and fifty three.

Ah, the happy times.

Lily and me.

Ca-caaaw!

Dinner...not for the weak stomached.

As I was taking a sequence of naked photos (naked kids; not me), Jen and I had a brief discussion as to whether or not some "black boxing" should be done, since the internet is, you know, filled with ne'er-do-wells. Then I came across this lucky shot and a nicely placed arm.

This was right before bathtime. She was excited about bathtime, but less than thrilled about taking the shoes off.

I think we're slowly losing our control of the girls' dining process. Sometimes I wonder if this is by design, as if letting it lapse into anarchy is our subtle way of absolving ourselves of the rigidity of the day. Laziness also comes to mind. Or the simple excuse: this is how toddlers eat.

Lily always wants to eat at their little plastic "big girl" table instead of the high chair. Her hand-eye-mouth-spoon-patience skills - not to mention her grasp of the concept of gravity - are nowhere near good enough for this, but it's fun to let it happen anyway. Tonight we went "big girl" style for some rice and beans. "Big girl" means to throw a spoonful of food towards the general vicinity of your mouth, then watch the dog eat it off the floor.

There are so many more variables at the big girl table, a bevy of freedoms, which is what makes it invariably a messy affair. The girls can turn around on a whim. They can pick up their plates and make them do their bidding. It's a free for all. There is no doubt at least over a pound of cooked spanish rice, and twice as much black beans, now mashed into our dining room carpet.

Like I mentioned, it is fun to watch. The only real downside is the vet bills we'll incur once Olly reaches 80 pounds and we need to get him on hypertension and diabetes medicine.

So I don't usually link/post/share other web-type things here, but I'm going to make an exception tonight. Why? Because I think it will be good for you to know what nightmare I am going to be dreaming tonight over and over and over again. And over.

Let me be a nice guy and preface this by saying that the kid is absolutely, unbelievably fine. The guy at work failed to tell me that, and I thought I'd just watched one of the most horrific deaths ever.

Enjoy!

Day two hundred and fifty two.

This kid is human velcro. It's like a bad horror movie...she moves really, really slow, but if she gets you she will not let you go.

Also ready for some bath time.

We decided tooshies are okay for the internet. She is wearing sneakers, after all.

Mine.

Abs in the mirror. Not a vampire. Good to know.

PunkaLily

I'm trying to decide if the "boy in the balloon" story qualifies as a "where were you when...?" level of shared public experience. I'm thinking no. But it was fun to watch the whole thing unfold today with a bunch of people standing around one computer monitor. Like that kid, I think I'd hide in the attic if I'd caused such a stir. I think I'd build a second attic on top of the first one and hide in there.

Today we have the privilege of putting on the books the first recorded use of the word 'mine' by either kid. Unsurprisingly, Lily was the one to break this barrier first. I think she said it in reference to a small box of cereal, probably, I don't specifically recall. The details aren't important really - if Abby picked up a piece of lint, Lily would be all over her to get it away - but we now know both what she is capable of and what we're in for for a while.

"Mine!"

times a million.

It's a little surprising this didn't happen earlier, actually; I'm always running around the house, grabbing random objects (the remote; the cat; the couch; the dust bunnies) and yelling, "Mine!" at the girls.

They need to understand ownership. I'm glad Lily has decided to champion this concept. I will certainly be encouraging her to trumpet her possessions as often and as loudly as possible.

Today's photos serve to prove just how bleak photography is going to be from here on out for the blog. It's so dark in our house after work.

Day two hundred and fifty one.

Abby technically took this shot. Nice composition.

Sisters.

Look at this...not one picture tonight! It's 3 parts lazy, 5 parts being that it gets so dark so early now, it makes good photos hard to come by.

The following story is courtesy of Jen, who was home alone with the kids for a while today due to Abby's Wednesday at home teacher session:

Jen was sitting with the girls having a snack when she noticed a significant piece of ear wax in Abby's ear. Gross. She is obviously my kid. Jen went in after it, since it was just begging for it, but Abby wasn't thrilled with the prospect. She started whining a bit and trying to get away from Jen's prying fingers.

Lily, sitting just a few feet away, apparently gave Jen a very stern gaze for a few seconds, then said, "No no no no no!" and tried to pull Jen's hand away from Abby.

After 20 months, I think that's about the cutest thing I think I've ever heard. What makes this story absurdly adorable is the fact that, on a minute-by-minute basis, they can barely stand each other. I'd say 83% of their interactions deal with the taking of an object from one by the other. There is pushing. There is biting. There is a thin amount of patience that they have for each other.

To hear about something like this, something that involves empathy and protection...it makes me a little melty.

This isn't the only bit of mutual respect that they've been displaying lately. Lily has been, unasked for by us, sharing things randomly with Abby. On the other hand, Abby has an ability to make Lily laugh in the car; I don't really know how, I can't catch her in the act, but Lily will laugh like a hyena and I turn to find her looking over at Abby.

I like the interaction. They're finally starting to figure each other out after all.

Day two hundred and fifty.

Abby, Lily...Johnny never came back from the fair.

Crayola kung-fu!

Snooty little artist.

If you're looking for some closure on Lily's bad mood last night, and whether it was just a mood or if she was suffering from some toddler ailment, join the club. She woke up a few times in a full-on cry during the night. But she was easily consoled, and went back to bed fairly easily. It's a mystery. We'll see how tonight goes I guess.

Thanks Emily for the trivia on the alphabet song. Mozart....crazy! I would not have thought that, it seems like such a lame song for him.

Let's talk about music. Again. Our car is sporting as a near-permanent fixture 3 whole CD's worth of kid's sing-along songs. This equates to over 100 kid songs that are guaranteed to make you want to blow your head clean off. I think Hemingway had these on phonograph. They are at once kinda catchy and extraordinarily irritating.

When you've listened as much as we have, certain lyrics start to make you wonder what the hell they were thinking when they wrote these songs. Here are some notables:

- "I've been working on the railroad just to pass the time away." (I've Been Working on the Railroad)

Working on the railroad is menial, grueling work, usually completed by immigrant workers at near-slave wages. As many as 150 people were killed during the building of the transcontinental railroad. Nobody passes time by 'working on the railroad'. Please.

- "...and with the girls be handy." (Yankee Doodle)

I'll leave you to draw your own assumptions. Do recall that 50% of the title is made of the word 'doodle'.

- "There's a flea on the wing on the fly on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole at the bottom of the sea." (There's a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea)

I can only assume the bottom of the sea here is the Marianas Trench, where the bottom of the sea reaches 36,200 feet and there are assuredly no frogs or fleas or kids to sing this crap.

- "Saw a rabbit hopping by, knocking at the door. 'Help me help me help me,' he said; 'or the hunter will shoot me dead!'" (Little Cabin in the Wood)

This. Is. Meant. For. Little. Kids.

- "Boom boom, ain't it great to be crazy?" (Same as quote)

Visit any insane asylum and you will likely find patients bellowing out these exact sentiments. It's also great to use poor grammar, ain't it?

- "Can you throw 'em [your ears] over your shoulder like a Continental soldier?" (Do Your Ears Hang Low?)

Is this meant to be some slanderous heckling from the redcoat ranks? Damn you, Englishmen! We in the Americas are proud of our large ears!

- "Polly put the kettle on, we'll all have tea.
Sukey take it off again, they've all gone away.
If Sukey takes the kettle off, we won't have tea.
But Polly puts it on again, we'll all have tea." (Polly Put the Kettle On)

I've been fortunate to never hear this song on a bridge, because if I ever do I'm driving right off it. What kind of name is 'Sukey'? Who would ask Polly for tea then just bolt, leaving Sukey to take the kettle off, only to come back later and demand the tea again? Somebody here is being a d-bag.

- "Eensy Weensy Spider" (Same)

Just have to mention this on principle: it's "Itsy Bitsy Spider" I don't know who made this disc, but they're morons. Eensy Weensy Spider sounds idiotic and has no class.

- "There was an old man named Michael Finnigin
Climbed a tree and barked his shin-i-gin
Took off sev'ral yards of skin-i-gin." (Michael Finnigin)

Only in a kid's song can a horrific flesh wound running the length of someone's leg be cause for rhyme-making merriment.

- "The bear went over the mountain to see what he could see (19 x's)
The other side of the mountain was all that he could see." (The Bear Went Over the Mountain)

What kind of existential quandary has this bear found himself in? "The bear was filled with self-loathing, the bear was filled...."

- "Take a little boy and tap him on the shoulder." (Bluebird, Bluebird)

Nothing particularly offensive or strange, it's just so meaningless. I'm not presenting it out of context...the line stands pretty much alone, and the rest of the song is equally nonsensical. "Bluebird bluebird through my window; oh Johnny I'm tired." Umm...what?

- "I ain't gonna study war no more." (Down by the Riverside)

I actually kinda like the notion of giving up the study of warfare. It's nicely echoed in the Wilco song: "There's a war on war, there's a war on war, you're gonna lose."

- "Oh dear, what can the matter be? Johnny's so long at the fair." [and] "And then for a smile, oh, he vowed he would tease me." (Oh Dear! What Can the Matter Be?)

It's so macabre! The first stanza is that first line repeated, and there is NEVER ANY RESOLUTION! Johnny never does come home from the fair, despite his promises to tease the songwriter. As a casual listener, I can only assume Johnny fell victim to a horrific combine accident.

- "Oh the old grey mare she ain't what she used to be." (The Old Grey Mare)

A biting, bleak look at retirement and obsolescence. Enjoy, Timmy and Janey! (and how popular was "ain't" back in the day? Apparently, very much so)

- "We will kill the old red rooster when she comes." (She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain)

Here I am, just a happy red rooster pecking at some dirt. Oh look, the family is so excited! Cluck! Oh joy, their prodigal family member has come back! Hoo-ray! Look, they're so happy, they're getting the axe! What a great day! What a happ...oh. Oh shit.

Day two hundred and forty nine.

I was playing with the flash a little on these.

Misdiagnosin'

A while back I wrote about the frenzied game of trial and error that would result when trying to figure out what is wrong with a kid. When I wrote that, the girls were much younger, and there was a certain list of ailments/needs/gripes that the kid could be suffering from. Things like teething, diaper rash, and lime-sized poop passage.

Now that they're a bit older, I have to add one to the list: just plain crankiness. They have personalities now, so that means they don't have to have any damn reason at all to be cranky. Who needs needs when you can just have a tantrum for the sheer joy of it?

It's important, though, not to just jump to this new cause while disregarding all the old ones. This is what we did tonight. I think. Still not sure, actually. Lily has been rather tempestuous from the moment I picked her up. Bath time was an unqualified disaster, she was essentially face down thrashing with all her might. Abby could only, like us, watch with squinty eyes as she sent water flying in everyone's faces.

Sometime after bath, when she just wouldn't stop crying at every little thing, we started to wonder if we weren't wrong. "She must be really tired, " I told Jen. Fatigue; there's a solid reason, so it seemed pretty good.

They both went down right at 7 with no complaints, so we'd all but considered ourselves geniuses. But she just woke up 30 minutes ago, wailing to beat the band. Kinda scary wailing, the sort of cry that makes the parental spidey-sense tingle. A pain cry.

Jen went up to give her juice under the presumption that she just might be constipated, which she has a grisly history of. According to Jen, she practically inhaled the juice.

The jury's still out. She's made a couple more ruckuses, but nothing enormous. Might be a long night.

Day two hundred and forty eight.

That's a fun chin to tickle.

Looking for the next victim to kish.

Before reading this, I should tell you now that the prune is a metaphor.

Doe eyed monster.

Did you know that the Alphabet Song, Two Little Black Birds, Bah Bah Black Sheep, and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star are all sung to the same tune? I feel kinda ripped off, as a parent.

This morning Jen gave Lily a prune in a misguided attempt at quelling a nasty snit that was in the making. Lily's response to this was to chuck the wrinkled little guy under the table. We all stared at each other for a moment, waiting for each other to make a move, until Jen did something neither one of has done yet.

"Lily, pick up that prune."
"No."
"Lily, pick up the prune right now or you don't get a snack."
"No!"

Lily walked over to the front door and sulked. Abby shot me a look that unmistakably said that we were thinking the same thing: there was no way Lily would pick up that prune, no way no how. I loved that Jen was doing it, though, because Lily is definitely starting to push some boundaries, and this reaction is about due. This will undoubtedly be the first in many such scenes to come in our lives.

Jen didn't give up.

"Lily, come pick up the prune."
[silence and shoe stomping]
"Lily, pick up this prune and give it to me."
"No!"

After a few more exchanges, Abby lost interest and went back to the piece of lint she was likely toying with. I kept watching, bemused and detached. I thought about getting involved, but really, what else could I add?

"Lily, come pick this up."

Lily pushed away from the door and started walking back into the dining room. 'You are f$*%%ing kidding me,' I thought to myself. Slowly she walked to the table. Slowly still, she bent down and went under the table, grabbed the prune, and handed it back to Jen.

"Thank you, Lily, that was a very good girl."

She laughed, and all was right with the world once more.

Parents 1. Kids 0.

Day two hundred and forty seven.

Prune-getter.

Aunt Joy showing Lily how to draw some pictures.

Abby and me.