Nobody Knows Anything

Monday and Thursdays it’s me and the kids, all day long. So today: the San Francisco Zoo. Good day to go, too: completely empty.

This morning, when I told Sophia we were going to the Zoo, she said, “I need a camera!” I said, “Wha’?” Darin filled me in: there’s an episode of Dora where Dora takes lots of pictures of animals. And he was right: as we walked around the Zoo Sophia kept singing, “Finding the animals,” which definitely had a Dora-esque ring to it.

When Darin and I were cleaning my office last weekend, I found an unused disposable camera and gave it to Sophia for today. She was thrilled. Want to make a tot happy? Disposable camera. That’s all I’m saying.

Today at the Zoo we discovered the Children’s Zoo area, which we hadn’t visited the last time. It’s pretty good. Well, the carousel made me dizzy, but Sophia loved it. And the petting zoo?

It was totally great. Sophia was right in there, brushing off all the goats, petting the sheep, asking me once again if she can go ride a horse. (Have to find horse rides around here. Shouldn’t be too hard, with the Santa Cruz mountains and all their attendant stables nearby.)

Simon was not too fond of the animals, given that they were for the most part much, much bigger than he was. In fact, a goat came near him and he started to cry, which was understandable because goats are scary. (Have you ever looked in their eyes? They’re slitted. Seriously. Creepiest eyes I’ve ever seen.) But he did find something he liked:

I could have left him there all day and he’d still be walking around with that thing. (He couldn’t quite ride it—every time I put him on the seat he slipped right off. But he liked walking it!)

We spent four hours at the Zoo today. Sophia made several new friends and was prepared to lay the smack down on me when I told her it was time to go.

I wish it weren’t so far away. We’d go a lot more often if it weren’t. They loved it.

In 2000, I put Sophia in her costume as Supergirl, and she thought it was great. Probably went to sleep around 6, as per usual.

In 2001, I bought her a princess-fairy costume, and she wouldn’t look at it.

In 2002, she wanted the Thomas costume. Which she wore all of about 3 seconds at her preschool’s Halloween party. She proceeded to fall asleep on the way home (around 4pm) and sleep the night through (something she was doing a lot at that time, which is why I cut way back on her activities for a while). So she didn’t trick-or-treat last year.

This year, things were different.

Oh yeah. She was all over the trick-or-treating thing. She’s been wearing the Tinkerbell costume for days now. She wore it to school today. She wanted to wear it all day, but it was too cold (and rainy!) for that.

After she napped a bit this afternoon, we rehearsed how to trick-or-treat, with each of us taking turns as the trick-or-treater and the lady answering the door. That helped, actually, because she started out holding her hand over her mouth while saying it, and by the time she set off on her adventure she was singing it clearly. Darin told me by the end of their rounds, she was telling him to stay back and she went up to the door by herself to do it.

Simon went with. Now he’s figured out the whole candy-extortion thing.

My kids went trick-or-treating. Another milestone passed. (Sob.)

You know what they’re saying in this photo?

“Our parents bought us this big house…and all we get to use is this tiny corner of the playroom! Don’t you feel sorry for us? Don’t you want to adopt us and give us everything we want? You know you do. Call soon.”

Sure, my husband’s home sick, and he’s grumpy because the kids are all over him.

Me, I got a good thing going on. Look what arrived today!

Diane’s crack supply arrives

Inks in both bottles and cartridges! Pen porn in the form of a calendar (from the crack supplier, Fountain Pen Hospital)! A new pen! (Hey, you try going shopping for fountain pen ink and resist buying a new pen! I double dare you!)

Simon is covered in chocolate and Darin is covered in Sophia. I’m going to go get covered in some ink.

Yup, they’re still cute:

You’d buy a used car from this baby.

(Shirt by Dookiewear.)

Kymm Zuckert has put up a bunch o’ photos from last week’s journaller gathering at Tamar’s house. In case you haven’t gotten your fill of Lord Guapo or his older sister She Who Must Be Obeyed.

This is Simon. He is cuter than anyone you have ever known or ever will know. He is possibly the cutest member of the human race ever.

Yes, those eyelashes are for real.

Simon is just about this smiley all the time. I have it from other parents that not all babies are this smiley. Somehow my kids just know from early on they’re going to have a good time.

Simon, like Sophia, was born two weeks earlier than my due date. Clearly it only takes me 38 weeks to make a baby. Which is great, but I was also much sicker throughout this second pregnancy than I was with Sophia, which is not a big inducement to have many more.

The smile, though: that could con a woman into doing stupid things. “Wait…the first two were so unbelievably cute…”

Simon started smiling before he was two months old, and it wasn’t any of that “gas” crap, it was smiling. He started laughing around the same time. He has a deep belly laugh that makes anyone who hears it start to laugh too.

At a few days old his first nickname was “Mr. Snooty,” because whenever he slept he always had his head back and his nose thrust upwards. After a little while he became “Lord Grunty,” because his main form of communication was (and is) grunting. Fernando shortened that to “L.G.” Simon’s babysitter called him “Señor Guapo” (Mr. Handsome), which I then made “Lord Guapo.” He’s also “El Coqueto,” because he’s the biggest flirt in the known universe. He still grunts, but it’s cute grunting.

At 7.5 months, Simon can sit up and I think he’s started to crawl. There’s certainly enough stuff he wants to get to.

He completely adores his older sister, even though she’s got a nasty habit of taking whatever toy he’s playing with from him. (This behavior does make him cry often enough, though.) He loves other babies. Hearing Daddy’s voice coming up the stairs makes Simon turn and give Daddy the most gigantic grin in the universe. Sometimes this makes Mommy jealous. But it’s too cute to be angry about.

I still wonder sometimes how raising a boy will be different from raising a girl. There were two girls in my family, so I know about girls. There were three boys in Darin’s family, so he knows about boys. Maybe there’s nothing to know, maybe I just have to treat him like a little person and let him figure out what kind of man he wants to be. But there are warning signs, for me, about how I have to act, what I have to say — and guard against saying. At gym class a few weeks ago a little boy — all the kids in the class were under 3 — started crying and his father kept saying things that I can basically sum up as: “Boys don’t cry.” I felt so sorry for that little boy, because it seemed like all he wanted was a hug.

I like hugging my little boy. I’m not looking forward to the day when that’s not okay any more.

This is Sophia.

Sophia is almost 3. I’m not quite sure how that happened. Well, yes, time passed and all. But still…how does a little bean smaller than a loaf of bread grow up to be someone like this? Walking, talking, ordering parents around, kissing baby brothers, and flinging paint onto paper to create art?

She’s going to be 3. Every day I think, “So this is what 3 is like,” and every day I have to revise. Because she still changing at a ridiculously fast rate. There are some afternoons I realize that she is speaking differently — better, more fluidly — than she was that morning. She laughs and smiles most of the time, and she can be very silly, which is good preparation for dealing with her parents. One running joke we’ve had for a while is: I make snacking noises, pretending I’m going to bite her, and she says, giggling, “Don’t eat me! I’m not very tasty! I’m not an apple!” Then we roll around on the floor some.

I don’t know how her development stacks up against that of other three-year-olds. I’m trying very hard not to compare her to others, even though most days that’s a losing battle. Some kids can do X, Y, or Z already! Why isn’t she? Of course, I’m not as good at picking out what Fia is doing that they’re not. And how none of it matters, because everyone is growing at his or her own pace. It’s tough not to measure.

She’s known her alphabet for about a year now. She likes to spell words. Once we were coming out of Storyopolis and Fia said, “Ess tee oh are why oh pee oh ell eye ess.” The letters rolled off her tongue a heck of a lot faster than I could have said them, believe me. Oftentimes from the backseat I’ll hear, “What’s this spell?” and she’ll rattle off the letters. She’s even getting good with lowercase letters, which are incredibly difficult (who thought up b, d, g, p, and q all having the same shape?).

Once we were driving down the street and she said, “Those letters say ‘dog.’” I was in the middle of asking, “Did you see a dog?” when I realized the banners on the streetlamps said, “Natural History Museum — Dogs.” She hasn’t done that again, so I don’t know if she actually read it or not. But it seems like she did.

I’m a little obsessed — too much so — about her reading development because both Darin and I could read by the time we were three and I’ve wondered, Is this sort of thing hereditary? Should I be encouraging it? As it is, I don’t think I’m pushing her beyond being receptive to her questions about letters and words. We read her books, we gave her foam letters and numbers to play with, we let her see us reading and writing all the time. She’s clearly interested in reading. But there are no flash cards, no enforced sessions of teaching her words or anything. When she wants to, she will. Believe me. When Sophia wants something, she’s extremely determined.

She knows her numbers. She can count to twenty and she can count objects, although she doesn’t always understand the concept of amount. She’ll say, “One, two, three, four Cheerios. That’s three Cheerios!”

She likes to sing to Simon. Often Fia singing will calm him down faster than anything. She sings the alphabet song a lot and often cajoles Mommy and Daddy to join in with her. Currently our playlist — or singlist, if you will — includes: the alphabet song; Ipsy Spider (her name for “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” because that’s the way she’s always said it); Ipsy Elmo, which has the same tune and almost the same words; Elmo’s Song; Sing A Song; and On Top of Spaghetti. She has begun asking for “new songs,” which means she wants to learn something new, and frankly, that’s a very exciting development, if you know what I mean.

I’m not entirely sure how Fia feels about Simon, and given that she’s 2 she probably doesn’t know either. She likes to laugh with him (the two of them can set one another off such that they’re just screaming laughter at one another), but she also likes to take toys away from him. She likes to console him, imitating Mommy: “It’s okay, Simon. It’s okay, little boy.” And then she’ll push him over so he cries, which makes Mommy very unhappy. The pediatrician said she should get her licks in now, because he’s going to be a big boy.

She likes dance class and has learned quite a few steps in it, but I think she mainly gets excited about going because her friends Lucy and Olivia are in the class. And because she gets to wear tap shoes. We used to go to gym class but two classes in a row Fia said she didn’t want to do it any more, so we’ve stopped. Swimming is on indefinite hiatus. So during weekday mornings her sole activity is dance. I’m learning how to keep us busy the other days.

She goes to preschool four afternoons a week. She was going three days a week but seemed to enjoy it so much I added a day. Four seems to be just the right amount. I don’t know if her preschool has a stated philosophy or not — I don’t think so — but it’s much more on the progressive end of the scale than the academic. They sing, they dance, they read books, they paint (a lot), they run around. At other preschools they have the letter of the day, not to mention actual structure in the learning. I’d much rather Fia have a good time and maybe learn a thing or two. She’s going to be in school at least for the next 15 years; I’ll cut her some slack on having a structured school day for now.

I learned exactly how well Darin and I had encouraged her independence the first day of preschool, when the parents are supposed to begin the week of separation, taking longer and longer periods away from the school. I showed Sophia the backyard of the school, which is filled with jungle gyms and play houses and all, and then I said, “Fia, I have to go do some errands, so I have to leave.”

She said, “Okay Mommy. I’m going to stay here.”

So much for separation anxiety.

She likes to use the computer, as you can see in the picture above. She likes using Mommy’s computer best of all (as you can see in the picture above). She can put the CD in, start her programs, play them, and then get out of the program. She couldn’t figure out how to eject the CD, because her Mac is older and doesn’t have the Eject button. So Darin wrote her a little program and now all she has to do is click on the “Eject” icon. One of her favorite games with the computer now is “writing.” We open Microsoft Word and she types. I figure a couple of sessions of this and she’ll have the Qwerty keyboard memorized.

Her favorite character right now is Clifford the Big Red Dog. She cracked me up recently by carrying her giant stuffed Clifford over to the couch and saying, “Clifford, we have to watch you now.” (Meaning, let’s watch an episode of Clifford.) Teletubbies are still good, as are any of the DVDs we have starring Thomas the Tank Engine. But Clifford currently rules the roost.

Her favorite toy seems to be anything Simon is currently playing with. But mostly it’s her kitchen set. The other day Darin went into her playarea and discovered she had set the table for four, complete with cutlery set up around the plates, forks on one side, knives and spoons on the other. She likes to cook food for me and to remind me that, “Simon is a baby. He can’t eat that.” I can’t wait until Simon can eat real food and he has Fia telling him he can’t have anything.

There are plenty of days when I am quite sure Fia isn’t going to make it to the weekend, let alone to her third birthday, let alone to adulthood. But most of the time I am very happy she’s my daughter. I think she’s absolutely wonderful. Well, except when she hogs my computer.

Hey there.

Yes, I’ve decided to start doing this again. For one thing, I’ve discovered that I just don’t keep a journal on paper any more.

In case you’re wondering what I’ve been up to:

The one on the left (the small one on the left, at any rate) is Sophia, Queen Of All She Surveys. What she surveys most of the time is her number one fan, the small one on the right and the newest addition to our family: Simon. He’s seven months old now (so this picture is a little old), but we are all doing very, very well. Sophia really likes having a “baby bruddah.” Of course, just wait until he starts taking her toys.

The reason I decided to start keeping a web journal again is that I discovered a solution to most of my objections to keeping one — you know, figuring out a design, maintaining the archives, doing neat little tricks here and there.

I went to Journalcon in San Francisco last October. It was pretty much a whirlwind trip, bordered on one side by a preschool picnic (yes, I have a life that includes “preschool picnics” now) and family stuff on the other. I tucked Simon under my arm, kissed Fia and Daddy farewell, got on a plane, and stayed in SF less than 24 hours. I came to my panel (”Life After Journaling” — irony, thou art harsh), I spoke, I dashed off again. But while I was there, I looked at the schedule and asked someone, “What’s this Movable Type?”

Oooo. Shiny.

And there it was. I had no further excuses. Here was a system that was going to make my life a lot easier. So if I wanted to do it, I should do it.

And now here I am. Somewhere to post those silly links I find, somewhere to post those rants that keep going through my mind, and maybe once in a while post something about what’s going on with me. Whee.

Oh yes. Merry Happy Whatever!