¿Qué pasa, Calabaza?

This Little Piggy...

2012-02-11T17:07:00.000-06:00

...is a birthday/Valentine gift for Simone's teacher, who loves pigs. She (the pig, not the teacher) is currently sealed in a ziploc baggie because while I know Ms. I loves pigs, I'm not so sure how she feels about cat hair!

Here's a funny story about the time I made a crocheted pig for Simone's teacher...

I was crocheting along while sitting in bed one night, all cozy and warm. When I got to the point where I needed to start adding stuffing, I conveniently found a small bag of fluff in the bottom of the bag where I store my crochet things. How lucky for me, right? Now I don't have to go digging around in a closet.

I started stuffing the pig's head, but found that the stuffing didn't pull apart as easily as I remembered from past crochet projects. Oh, well. I just used scissors to cut off what I needed and went on. I stuffed the head and body, and when I was ready to attach the arms and legs, I reached for more stuffing to cut free.

That's when I found this near the bottom of the bag of fluff...

Yes, that is a spider ring.

And yes, the piggy is stuffed with Halloween decoration. You're welcome, Ms. I!!!

New Word of the Day: Dagwood

2012-01-19T23:30:00.001-06:00

Last week, Simone wanted to make her own lunch for school the next day. She decided to make a jelly sandwich, and while she was spreading the jelly and stacking the bread, she was reminded of this scene in A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. She loves to recreate scenes from her favorite movies, books and TV shows, so of course she had to bring the Peanuts' feast preparation to life...

She was so impressed with her creation, she wanted to eat it immediately instead of saving it for the next day's lunch (it wouldn't have fit into a baggie, much less her lunch box anyway)...

She made it through only a few bites, but she was happy!

Cub Reporter or Comedienne?

2012-01-04T13:37:00.000-06:00

I saw a news story last week about a woman driving her car through the front of a convenience store. Nobody was badly injured, and the physical damage was fairly minor (broken glass and banged-up displays), so it really was just a curiosity kind of story – What was she doing while she should have been applying the brakes? How will the store owner deal with the economic losses of missed alcohol sales just before the big New Year’s Eve holiday?

Yesterday, we happened to drive by that convenience store. Simone noticed plywood covering some of the windows on the store and asked why that was there. I told her what happened and explained that the plywood is covering the holes in the building until the owners can replace the glass. She was concerned that someone may have been hurt, and I told her that nobody was injured, just scared and surprised to see a car coming into the store.

She thought it over for a minute, then wanted to know how I knew all of this, so I told her I saw it on the news. She wanted to know exactly what the news story said. Word for word. When I couldn’t give her what she wanted, she started grilling me:

PH: Did they say the lady’s name who drove her car into the store?

Me: Yes, but I don’t remember it.

PH: Did they say how old she was?

Me: Yes, but I don’t remember.

PH: Did they say the store owner’s name?

Me: Yes, but I don’t remember it.

PH: Did they say what did he thought when he saw a car coming into the store?

Me: Yes, but I don’t remember what he said.

PH: Did they say what the customers said?

Me: Yes, but I don’t remember what they said. Something about being very surprised and scared.

PH: Did the car knock everything down?

Me: Yes, there was a picture of broken glass and smashed merchandise all over the floor.

PH: Oh. So it was breaking news?

Da da dum.

So I got a new iPhone this week...

2011-10-22T12:50:00.000-05:00

...and Simone figured out the camera right away!

Anywhere a cat can go...

2011-08-27T23:32:00.001-05:00

Fun Art

2011-08-21T02:46:00.020-05:00

Simone and I spent the afternoon at the Nasher Sculpture Center in Dallas. One of the exhibits there was a room filled with almost 9,000 orange balloons. And you are allowed to touch this particular piece of art - you can actually go into the balloon room! I wasn't sure what Simone would think about that, but I wanted to see it myself.

It was so much fun!

We ran around the room completely blinded by the balloons - they reached a few feet over my head.

We raced around in there for about half an hour (and I am not kidding!), and she was so excited when she found out a little later that we could go into the room as many times as we wanted. So we went in again. And again. We shut down the place and left with the employees.

In between sessions in the balloon room, we saw the rest of the museum...

After the museum, we had dinner and walked around the JFK Memorial and Dealey Plaza. Simone agrees with the theory that there was a second shooter near the grassy knoll.

The highlight of Simone's day? Not what you would think. She talked all the way home about the homeless man who gave her a penny to throw into a fountain and make a wish. I hope it was a good wish!

Wow. She's tall.

2011-08-10T23:30:00.000-05:00

The pumpkinhead is tall. Very tall. At six years, she is 4'2". Depending on whose height chart you look at, she's either completely off the chart, or within the 97th percentile in height for six-year-old girls. And she has been in those upper percentiles her whole life. All six years of her life.

As you can imagine, everyone comments on her height. Adults, anyway. Kids don't seem to notice it. Strangers at the grocery store; other parents at school, the library, day care; teachers; my co-workers; her doctor; family members who don't see her every day; neighbors...and the list goes on and on.

Sometimes it's said like it's just so remarkable that a kid can be so tall; sometimes it's just small talk - something to say while watching the kids play or while waiting in line; sometimes it's said like they think they're actually giving me new information. Like I didn't know my kid is tall.

I don't mind people telling me that she's tall. At least they're not telling me what a brat she is or how annoying her cute little giggle is, or that she just broke something. I just never know what to say. I always agree and confirm that she is, indeed, very tall. I think I'll start telling people that I keep her into a stretching contraption at night because I want her to be in the Guinness Book of World Records one day. Or not. People don't have much of a sense of humor about that kind of stuff nowadays.

The best one came this weekend. We visit some people in a nursing home a couple of times a month. One of the patients we visit has ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), and cannot talk or get out of bed, but is otherwise just fine - sharp as a tack. She has a letter board and points to letters to spell out words when she needs something. This weekend, while Simone was poking around her room that is filled with stuffed cat toys and various feline knick-knacks (she is Simone's favorite patient to visit), the lady pointed to her letter board. I held it up for her, expecting her to ask for a nurse or to say something about one of the cats. She spelled out: S-H-E I-S T-A-L-L.

Yes, folks. She is tall.

Six.

2011-08-10T22:20:00.000-05:00

Simone turned six last month. In true Simone fashion, she had a big blow-out party. In true Debbie fashion, I forgot to take any pictures.

But trust me when I say it was a fun time.

There was an inflatable castle bounce house with water slide, a kiddie pool, a balloon banner, a heart shaped cake (that was awesome! a huge improvement over last year's pink brick), hot dogs, nachos, a book swap (instead of gifts - yay!), and about 20-25 of Simone's friends and family and their parents.

My house and yard were crawling with people. There were daredevil kids in the front yard jumping and sliding, silly kids splashing each other in the kiddie pool, water-averse kids riding scooters, tricycles and the electric car, giggling girls playing dress-up and house in Simone's room, curious kids looking for kittens under my bed, hungry kids and parents munching hot dogs and nachos, and parents trying to stay cool under trees, under the mister, and inside.

Everyone had a blast and went home tired with a new book to read.

The kittens survived and were glad to be able to make it to their food bowl and litter box unimpeded. Simone made it through, took a short rest (no sleep, just rest), then headed out with a friend to the dog park, sno-cone stand, and McDonald's. She's an insatiable party animal!

Pride, self- and parental-

2011-08-10T18:51:00.002-05:00

The pumpkinhead and I went to Chick-fil-a last week, and she met a new friend in the play area. After they played for a while, both girls came out and asked for ice cream. As it turned out, Simone's new friend's grandmother was sitting in the booth behind me. So both girls stood on their knees backward in their respective booths, facing each other while chatting and eating ice cream.

Two six-year-olds can learn more about each other in 10 minutes than a lot of adults can over the course of a first date! They discussed pets, ages, siblings, first grade, Hello Kitty, and whatever else is important to little girls.

Then, apropos of nothing, Simone made an announcement: "I can speak English, Spanish, Chinese and French."

Everyone at the two booths (and a couple of other nearby tables) looked at her in shock. Me, because it is kind of an obnoxious thing to say in this context. The new friend's grandmother, I'm guessing maybe for the same reason as me, but she looked a little doubtful that this was a true statement. The new friend, because apparently she did not know that other languages even existed.

The new friend looked a little confused, and asked her grandmother, "What do we speak?" The grandmother told her that they speak only English, and the girl seemed a little disappointed at that news.

Sensing her new friend's disappointment, Simone offered, "My mommy and I can teach you Spanish, because we both know how to speak Spanish." Then she started enunciating, "Ho-la. Ho-la." Her new friend repeated it and asked what it means. Simone told her that it means "hello" in Spanish, and the little girl seemed very happy and proud of herself for learning something so exotic.

Then they both skipped off to the play area again and climbed into the highest tunnel to hide and tell secrets.

I never told the grandmother that Simone knows only a few words - mostly counting to ten, colors, and a few other vocabulary words - of Mandarin and French because I didn't want to diminish Simone's pride in announcing her brilliance to all of Chick-fil-a. And technically, she can speak a little of each language, and is learning more all the time.

But mostly, I didn't say anything because I was just so darn proud of her! Not only is she learning new languages, she's proud of it and wants others to learn along with her.
A mi me amo a esa nina!
Wǒ xǐhuan nàgè nǚhái!
J'aime cette fille!
I love that girl!

A Future Politico???

2011-06-19T14:14:00.000-05:00

Last month, our city elected some new public officials. Simone had noticed the campaign signs along the streets and asked what they were for. I explained that we would vote for a new mayor and city council members soon. She wanted to see this voting process, so I told her that she could go with me. Then on voting day, she spent time with her dad and I forgot that she wanted to go. Oops.

Luckily for me, the race for city council seat in my district ended up very close and a run-off election was needed. This was the only race on the ballot, and I'd become interested in this particular race and had a favorite candidate. I also remembered that Simone wanted to go with me. Last week, I told her that we could go vote on Saturday morning. She asked who I would vote for. I told her that I would vote for Chris Hightower because I thought he could do the best job and make the best decisions for our city. She wanted to know what office he was running for and what his job would be if he won, so I explained as best I could what city council members do.

She wanted to know more about Chris Hightower, and asked about him every day last week. I think she may have even made up a song about him. I showed her a picture of him from one of the many mailers I've received over the last few months. She kept the mailer on her table for a few days. She wanted to know where he lives. Weirdly, I knew this (but only because his campaign headquarters is also his home - I'm no stalker!), and pointed out his house one day on the way to swim lessons.

The run-off voting was held yesterday, and of course, Simone and I went to vote. Last night before going to bed, I checked to see if the election returns were in yet. They were, and Chris Hightower lost by a very narrow margin. I told Simone what happened, and she was of course disappointed and wanted to know who this person is who beat her beloved Chris Hightower. I told her that the other candidate is a lady named Lana Wolff. She was quiet for a minute, then with a disgusted look on her face said, "Hmmm. Lana Wolff. I'm going to have to write her a letter. Can you get me her address?"

Look out, Council Member Wolff. You've got an angry young constituent on your hands!

Hey, Rocky! Get down from there and watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!

2011-06-13T00:24:00.002-05:00

When I moved into my house nine years ago, I made the mistake of telling my brother that I was a little freaked out by all the squirrels around here. I've been teased about it since.

Those squirrels just seemed so brazen the way they didn't care that I was the new home owner and continued to jump into my yard for acorns and pecans. Luckily, I've overcome my aversion to the little rodents, and no longer run into the house when they leap out of a tree and into the yard with me. I actually enjoy watching them chase each other along the fence and up and down the trees -- from a distance. I even leave some squirrel treats around the yard for them from time to time.

Yesterday, I heard a weird noise coming from the kitchen. Weird noises are pretty normal around here lately, but I'd never heard this particular noise before, so I went to investigate. This is what I saw out the window above the kitchen sink:

A squirrel had jumped up onto the screen and was hanging on by his back claws while reaching out to get to the bird feeder. He tipped it far enough to let some seed spill onto the porch, then jumped down for lunch. A cardinal even joined him...

A little later, while working in the yard, I left a pile of peanuts a good distance away from my windows for the squirrels. I haven't seen or heard them attacking my windows since.

I've realized this weekend that my squirrel phobia is not completely gone. And with good reason, I think. Just look at his freakish hands. And the size of those toes!

Another new family member

2011-06-12T23:23:00.001-05:00

Last month, we cleaned out our fish tank and I realized the gravel was too nasty to just rinse out. So we made a quick trip to PetSmart for one bag of fish tank gravel. We walked out with this:

Simone loves her:

Aurora did NOT love her. There was much hissing and swatting the first day. After a bit of separation and supervised play, they became the best of friends...

Her name is Pippa Sweetie-Pie Cutie-Patootie (because now they're sisters!) In the month or so that she's been here, she's had three name changes. In fact, both of them have new names now. They're called Beezus and Ramona. Ramona's name is so appropriate. She really is a pest sometimes.

My own personal Cinderella

2011-06-12T22:46:00.000-05:00

Not to worry, though. She actually asked, no -- begged -- to do this. And I'll probably let her go to a ball one day.

Maps -- What a Girl Wants

2011-05-03T23:27:00.000-05:00

Simone is fascinated with maps. She uses the globe every day to tell me where Choppy and his sisters have been, and holds random items up next to it to demonstrate Earth's location in the solar system. She draws maps so we can find our way to the library, the grocery store, and wedding showers. She can identify most of the 50 states by shape alone (although the square ones trip most everybody up, I think), and can place all of them in the correct area on an outline of the U.S. She can identify every continent and several South American countries and Caribbean islands. She knows which country is the largest, which state is the smallest, and can point out which states she's visited in her five years on Earth.

The girl LOVES maps. She has no clue that Google Maps even exists, and I'm not planning to tell her any time soon. Otherwise, I might never see her again!

Imagine her ecstasy when I brought home an entire set of National Geographic Close-Up U.S.A. maps. This is a set of about 15 maps, each detailing a different region of the U.S. The maps come in a plastic box with a hard-cover city index so you can find any place you could ever want. They're from 1986 or something, but she doesn't care. They're MAPS!!! And they're all HERS!!!

On Sunday morning while I was making breakfast, she dragged out her box 'o maps in the living room. She told me to hurry up with those waffles so we could "study the maps". She even wanted to make a sign for our front door so that anyone who came by would know that we're "studying maps" in here.

We're a matched set of nerds!

I'm trying to remember where I was 13 years ago...

2011-04-21T22:11:00.000-05:00

The owner of Simone’s day care (where she goes after school) asked me last week whether Simone’s dad has another daughter living elsewhere. I said no – not that I know of. Then she asked whether I have another daughter somewhere. I said no – not that I know of (haha!).

This line of questioning was getting a little suspect, so naturally I asked her why she was asking me this.

She said that Simone had mentioned her sister earlier that day. Since she was unaware of the existence of a sister, the owner asked her for more information about this mystery sibling.

Simone told her very matter-of-factly that she has an older sister who is 13 and lives in Africa.

When I asked Simone about the sister, she said "Yeah, you know my sister. The one who lives in Africa." She even told me the sister's name, but I didn't catch it because my brain was too busy trying to figure out why Simone felt the need to create such a "unique" family member out of the clear blue. Until now, all the imaginary sisters around here have been Choppy's.

I just hope this sister doesn't aspire to be president one day. I don't have her birth certificate!

Cleveland Rocks...plus it's apparently the safest place in the U.S.

2011-04-19T23:15:00.000-05:00

After viewing a YouTube video of damages from a tornado that recently hit the town where Simone’s Granny lives (Granny was not affected, thankfully), Simone started to worry about a “twister” invading our space in our own town. She wasn’t totally distraught, so it may have been a bedtime-stalling tactic – but who knows with her, ya know? I tried to reassure her by pointing out that it was a beautiful night and we could see the stars.

"We we’re not having a tornado tonight.", I told her.

She took this to mean that Arlington, TX is exempt from any tornadic* activity, ever. This is certainly not true, and is also not a good impression for a young person to be under. So I further explained that sometimes we have bad storms and it is definitely possible for a tornado to pay us a visit, but if that ever happens, we will go somewhere safe until the tornado goes away. I made sure to let her know that she and I, as well as Choppy and all of our pets will try our best to stay safe. I didn’t elaborate on my actual plan, since it would have required a LOT of explanation, and it was already bedtime – I didn’t need any more questions – so I just left it at “we’ll go somewhere safe”.

She thought about this for a minute, and looked at me a little perplexed. “Where will we go, Mommy? To Ohio?”

Uhhhhh...No, not Ohio.

So I had to let her in on the plan, which is to hide in her bathtub with her mattress over our heads (that’s still what you should do, right?). Hopefully the animals will cooperate, although the fish may have to fend for themselves if worse comes to worst. That tub is already getting overcrowded.

* - My spell-check says "tornadic" is not a word, but I hear weather forecasters use it all the time. Sorry, spell-check. I'm going with The Weather Channel's vernacular here.

A twirly skirt...

2011-04-03T10:29:00.000-05:00

Made from two bandannas and part of a huge men's t-shirt. And of course my new(ish) sewing machine that has been sitting in the corner being lonely and unused since I bought it several months ago. I got a little carried away with the shirt, but I like the results. And I think my model does, too.

Instructions found here.

Reading with a new friend

2011-03-12T20:53:00.000-06:00

Our library hosted an event today where kids can read to a dog. The dogs are from Reading Education Assistance Dogs (R.E.A.D.) and are trained to sit quietly and listen to kids read. Honestly, when I think about how mind-numbing it can get to listen to three-letter words being sounded out, I think I might need to go through this training course myself.

Simone wasn't sure what kind of harebrained scheme I'd dreamed up when I asked her earlier this week if she would read a book to a dog at the library, and she initially told me that she didn't want to take part.

Now she's glad she did, and she wants to go back next month to finish reading Barbie and the Magic of the Pegasus to her new friend Schatzie!

How I set examples for my kid...

2011-03-04T18:12:00.000-06:00

The school nurse called today to let me know that Simone was complaining that her ear hurts and she probably has an ear infection. So her dad picked her up and I called the doctor and got us squeezed in this afternoon. I left work at lunch time, stopped for a drink (not the happy hour kind, but just a non-alcoholic soda) and did a couple of errands before I met them at the doctor's office.

While we were waiting in the examining room (forever), Simone saw a model showing how atherosclerosis can affect an artery over time. The cross-section was divided into several lengths, each showing a different level of blockage. It was pink-ish and plastic-y, so I guess it was interesting to Simone. She asked what it was, so I got it from the shelf and told her that it shows what might happen to your arteries when you eat too many unhealthy foods and don't exercise. I also took the opportunity to remind her what some healthy food choicess are - fruits, vegetables, chicken, fish, and water to drink.

She looked up at me with a worried look and wailed, "So why did you just go to Sonic and get a Dr. Pepper?!?!?!"

Ahhhhh...caught red handed! I never said all my examples were good ones. I guess if I had gone to happy hour, I could at least have claimed my red wine had antioxidants!

So is she still a pumpkinhead?

2011-03-03T00:10:00.000-06:00

Today is Dr. Suess' birthday, and to celebrate, the students at Simone's school were allowed to ditch their uniforms for the day and dress as their favorite character from a story book. Since I had exactly one day to prepare for this, I thought about three books with characters that would be somewhat easy to replicate with things from around the house, and let her choose. She chose Daisy-Head Maizey.

Maizey wears a pink dress throughout the story. Not surprisingly, Simone has many pink dresses. Maizey sprouts a white daisy on her head very early in the story. Weirdly, we've had a fake white chrysanthemum hanging around the house for about a year. I have no idea where it came from, but it won't go away. I hot-glued that thing to a green pipe cleaner and stuck it in her ponytail this morning.

I give you...Daisy-Head Pumpkinhead...

I have no idea why she looks so scared. I guess I'd be scared too if a flower sprouted out of my head.

Sorry, Dad. I tried...

2011-02-15T23:24:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago I got a song stuck in my head. I was singing it around the house all the time. I was humming it to myself at the office. I couldn’t get rid of this song. And all I could remember was a line or two of the chorus.

Around day two or so of non-stop singing, Simone finally asked me where I learned that song and why I’m singing it so much. I told her that I learned it when I was a little girl like her. It is a Waylon Jennings song that was popular on the radio in the seventies, and I’d heard part of it recently and couldn’t stop singing it. She is usually interested in what I did when I was a little girl. She thinks it’s kinda cool that I used to watch Scooby-Doo and that Wonder Woman and Batman were around way back when. It’s possible that she believes I had a pet dinosaur back then. Maybe she would become a Waylon fan. At least a fan of his music.

Meanwhile, I’m still singing away all the time. And I can’t sing very well.

So I finally went onto iTunes to find the song. I found a whole album of Waylon’s greatest hits and bought it. The song that had been haunting me was on it, as well as some others that I’d forgotten about, including the Dukes of Hazzard. Yay!

The next morning, we were getting ready for work and school, and I was once again singing that song. Simone was getting a little tired of my one-line version, so I pulled out the iPod and found the actual song. I told her that I found the song I used to listen to when I was a little girl, and she was actually interested to hear it. So I turned it on to let her hear Waylon singing “Rainy Day Woman”. If you’ve ever heard the song, you’ll remember that it starts out with several bars of a steel guitar. Very twang-y 70’s country music. I think that’s the reason I like it so much. I like the twang.

Apparently, Simone doesn’t appreciate the twang as much as I do. When she heard the steel guitar, she immediately put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes like it was nails on a chalkboard. She didn’t even make it to the lyrics so she could hear Waylon singing the 10 or so words that I’d tortured her with for a week. Probably for the best. That girl just gets things sometimes, and she doesn’t need to catch on to what exactly his “Rainy Day Woman” is. But I’ll try again with some other twang-y songs.

Oh, well. So she’s not going to be a Waylon fan. That’s OK. After all, he’s an Outlaw, and Simone doesn’t need any outside help with rebellion. She’s good on her own.

Party on, Waylon. Simone’s not listening…

I don't need no stinkin' rules...

2011-01-06T23:01:00.000-06:00

The pumpkinhead’s school requires that returning students register for the next school year in January. So I currently have a ream of paper to read and fill out. Maybe it’s just eight pages, but it seems like a lot because I have to look up Social Security numbers, addresses, telephone numbers, drivers license numbers, e-mail addresses, blah, blah, blah…

One of the forms is an acknowledgment that the parents and child fully understand the school’s expectations of its students. Both parent and student have to sign this. I explained to Simone that she will need to sign the paper.

Then I explained what “sign” means.

I told her that we write our names on a paper to show that we understand and will do what it says. I told her that this paper says that in order for her to go to her school for first grade next year, she will need to:

Listen to her teacher and pay attention in class
Follow the rules of the classroom and the school
Work hard and do all of her work
Get along with other students
Ask for help if she needs it
Tell her teacher or Mom and Dad if there is a problem that she can't work out with a classmate

After telling her all of this, I gave her the pen and showed her where to sign. She looked at me like I was a loon and said “No. I don’t want to sign that.”

She’s a rebel.

How do you know...

2010-12-25T15:19:00.000-06:00

The pumpkinhead has gone to daycare/preschool basically her whole life. She has learned a lot in those five years, some completely awesome, and some not so awesome.

Things that I may not have taught her otherwise, like....

Basic colors and numbers in Chinese and French.

How to paint the soles of your bare feet and make a Thanksgiving turkey centerpiece from footprints.

What constitutes a "bad word" - like "hate", "stupid", "butt", and more often than not, some made-up nonsense word that only she knows.**

Or things I probably wouldn't have even chosen to expose her to, like...

Hannah Montana.

Moxie Girlz. (I'm not sure exactly what to think about these dolls, but I do like hearing Simone say "moxie"!)

Saying "sweeeeeeet" when she really likes something. (Not really bad, but just annoying when you hear it from adults all day, and then from a five-year-old all night. Luckily, she forgot about this word quickly!)

So when she spouts some new-found knowledge with me that was obviously learned elsewhere, I ask her what she knows about it, and who taught her/told her about that. This has become a futile process, because I've apparently grilled her enough times that now she doesn't want to share this information with me, and tells me that Choppy taught her whatever she's been talking about.

The pumpkinhead and I were waiting in line to check out at a store this week, and she stuck her head into one of the refrigerated drink displays. I heard her say "OH! They have Big Blue!", and pulled out a bottle of blue liquid. Sure enough, it had "Big Blue" written on the label. So the standard line of questioning ensued...

Me: Have you had this drink before?

Pumpkinhead: No.

Me: How do you know about Big Blue?

Pumpkinhead: Because I just saw it in this refrigerator.

Me: Then how do you know what it's called?

Pumpkinhead: Because it says right here, B-I-G B-L-U-E. I read it. (said while looking at me like I'm bad word #2).

Oh yeah! She has also started reading during those five years (more specifically, the last five months)! So guess what we bought, and is now sitting in our refrigerator with exactly four sips taken from the bottle (one mine, three hers)???

** - I'm trying to teach her at home that words themselves are not bad, but we need to be careful how we use them. At school, or at least with other kids, there are words that are apparently "bad".

What's been occupying my time lately...

2010-12-18T12:55:00.000-06:00

So I've not posted much on here the last few months. I've been doing something...really. But first a story...

Several months ago, the pumpkinhead became obsessed with a movie called My Neighbor Totoro. It's a Miyazaki anime, and it is my favorite kids' movie ever. Yes, mine. Even though Simone wanted to watch it several times per day for several weeks on end, I never minded. It is beautiful and sweet makes us both feel happy. I understand that Totoro is to Japan what Mickey Mouse is to the U.S. Simone and I both love Totoro, and every time we see a picture of him or hear his name, we both smile.

Totoro toys are not readily available in U.S. stores, and the toys I found online or on Ebay just didn't seem very special (especially for the price!). While I was searching, I kept running across pictures of Totoros that someone had crocheted. Now, those were special! Some were available in a couple of Etsy shops, but it still felt not-so-special to have a stranger make a toy by hand for my kid. And a little creepy, given how much personal attention is involved in making something like that.

Because my last attempt at crocheting resulted in half of an oddly-shaped, very heavy* afghan that is still wadded up in a paper bag in a closet somewhere around here, I considered taking crocheting classes. That didn't happen though, because it would have taken up several Saturday mornings -- yuck! I looked up a few crocheting websites and checked out some books from the library and taught myself how to crochet again. I practiced making various stitches and crocheting in different styles for a couple of weeks, then I started on this pattern for the small white Totoro. After a week or so, I had several little cone-shaped ears lying around (that we were using as gloveless fingers -- as opposed to fingerless gloves), and was finally brave enough to continue with the Chibi-Totoro body. The whole thing only took a few days to finish at lunchtime and after Simone went to bed. Then I started on the pattern for the medium-sized blue guy, Chuu-Totoro. That took a little longer, because he was bigger and had more parts, of course, but also because Simone found one of my learn-to-crochet-toys books and wanted me to make some toys for her. So I interrupted my Totoro-making to crochet two small bears and an ice cream cone.

I finished both the small and meduim Totoros about a month or so ago, and have had them hidden in the top of the closet so Simone will be surprised when she opens them at Christmas. A pattern for the big grey one, Oh-Totoro (our favorite), does not seem to exist, and I'm experimenting with modifying the pattern for the blue one but not getting very far. It's difficult because the grey Totoro is so much larger than the other two, and I wan them to be at least a bit proportional in size. So she'll have to live with just the two smaller ones for a while.

Anyway, here are a couple of pictures of the Totoros I made. Just don't tell Simone yet because Christmas is still a week away! I think the blue one's ears need to be repositioned closer to the top of his head, but I'll have to take care of that later.

Oh, and I'm also making some soot sprites. Mine aren't anything especially creative, just black pom-poms with googly eyes glued on. There are crochet patterns for the soot sprites, but I think these will work for now -- until the cat pulls the eyes off, anyway!

* - It seems that I remembered only how to make a slipstitch, and was using a LOT of yarn in my afghan-making efforts and getting nowhere very s-l-o-w-l-y. With my new-found crocheting skills, I may unravel that thing that has been sitting in the closet for eight years and try again.

Our New Family Member...

2010-12-05T23:14:00.000-06:00

Her name is Aurora Sweetie-Pie Cutie Patootie. Oh, I think I got a cavity just writing that name.

Simone has wanted a cat for a while now. I've been putting it off because of logistics with Biscuit. Some of those logistics have worked themselves out, and I really didn't have a reason for not getting her a cat except the "mean lazy mommy" reason.

We went down to PetSmart today with the intention of looking at cats. This is nothing out of the ordinary for us. We frequently spend an hour or two there looking at all the animals. It's usually cheaper and less walking than a trip to the zoo. In the adoption area of the store, we petted a few cats who didn't really care whether we were there or not, then we were introduced to Minnie and her sister, Aurora. Upon hearing the name "Aurora" (Sleeping Beauty's "real" name for those who are not up on your Disney princesses), the pumpkinhead's ears pricked up. She sat down and Aurora jumped into her lap. Just like that, we had a new cat! The cat rode home on Simone's lap (in a carrier), and on the way was bestowed with a middle (Sweetie Pie) and last (Cutie Patootie) name.

Simone and Aurora are now sleeping quite peacefully on Simone's bed. Merry early Christmas, Pumpkinhead!

pumpkinhead or jack-o-lantern?

2010-10-22T01:18:00.000-05:00

That Nanny McPhee-looking tooth is hanging by a thread. She may be on an oatmeal and chocolate pudding diet for a while!

It's all in the details

2010-09-05T21:17:00.000-05:00

I picked these up at a dollar store recently to surprise Simone while she was elsewhere.

When I gave them to her, she was pretty excited about the little group, and played with them for about 15 minutes or so. Then she put them down and told me that these aren't real Toy Story toys.

What do you mean, "they're not real"? They were made in China with actual plastic by a company that purchased a license from Disney/Pixar! Of course they're real.

Then she explained her reasoning to me. Something was missing. I totally understood.

I fixed the problem with a Sharpie, and now hopefully Buzz, Woody and Jessie (and that company that undoubtedly overpaid for the license to make them) will get the respect they deserve.

Rankings

2010-09-05T01:59:00.000-05:00

What's better than rats, but not quite as good as Daddy?

Let's take a look at Simone's latest homework project for the answer to this one:

Tin Can Stilts, Pumpkinhead Style

2010-09-05T01:49:00.000-05:00

We were inspired to make these after reading "Ramona and Her Father":

We found some large coffee cans at a garage sale and decided to decorate them to suit our tastes. First, we had to prime the cans. Yes, we used latex Kilz and watercolor brushes. That's the only primer I had, and we were doing this Simone's way. She wanted to use her blue sparkly brush (it's ruined now).

While the primer dried, we went to the store for some colorful permanent markers. Then we each decorated a can. (She is not getting grey hair from Kindergarten stress -- that's paint!)

I attached some cord and we went to test them on the porch. Success! Only one minor spill that required reshaping the can. On my turn, one of the cords snapped (see the frayed part on the inside of the left stilt below), and she banned me from using her stilts, claiming that I am too big for these stilts. Thanks.

You may notice that she apparently did not care for my drawings. She re-created my pictures on her own can, then crossed out mine. She even drew sad faces next to a couple. Quite the art critic, huh?

Freedom

2010-08-27T00:36:00.000-05:00

We watched Kiki's Delivery Service tonight. It's a sweet, sweet movie about a 13-year-old witch who leaves home to live on her own during her one-year witch-in-training period. Because, ya know -- that's what witches do (I guess).

Simone asked a LOT of questions during the scenes showing Kiki preparing to leave and saying goodbye to her family and friends. "Why is she leaving her Mommy and Daddy? Where is she going? Is she going to come back home?" These questions made me feel good -- like she still needs me, even though she's a big Kindergartner now.

The very next scene shows Kiki happily flying away on her mom's broom to become an independent young witch. Simone stood on the couch on her imaginary broom and said "Mommy, I want to try THAT!" I smiled, thinking she wanted to fly around on a broom (because wouldn't that be a blast?).

But no. All of my pumpkinhead's angst about Kiki's departure from all that is familiar had disappeared.

Poof!

She continued her thought: "I want to leave my home when I'm 13 and learn how to be a witch!"

I tried to appeal to her earlier fears about Kiki leaving home. I told her that I would miss her, and reminded her that she is not, in fact, a witch in need of training. She looked at me with pity and said "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll come back home when I'm finished."

Sigh.

I'm not really liking this growing up business.

Kindergarten Quotes

2010-08-24T23:59:00.000-05:00

A few things I've heard Simone say since starting Kindergarten:

While reviewing numbers with her stuffed dog: "Choppy, that's right! You're awesome at numbers! You earned a check mark!"

Again, while reviewing numbers with Choppy: "You're very good at this. The rest of the class is not as good at this as you." (Surely she made this one up herself and didn't hear this at school?!?)

While explaining to me why she doesn't want to stay for after-school care: "The octopus always tags me. I don't want to be tagged." When I suggested that it might be her turn to be the octopus soon, she informed me that that does not interest her, since the octopus has to stay in its circle. Whatever.

While drawing with Choppy: "Choppy, don't laugh at my picture. I'm doing the best I can! It's not nice to laugh when someone is doing the best they can!"

To no one in particular: "It's my opinion that boys should not talk in the hall." (Haha! I have a similar opinion about boys!)

Tonight she asked me if she could draw me a picture on the back of a worksheet she'd brought home. Well, of course you can draw me a picture, pumpkinhead! She drew a beautiful picture of herself, Angie, and me, then labeled each figure with our ages (!). Later, while stalling before bedtime, she told me that she wants to take the picture to her teacher tomorrow.

It appears that I may have a new arch nemesis. It's ON, Ms. F! I'm putting cookies in her lunchbox tomorrow!

I knocked out my kid's tooth!

2010-08-21T18:00:00.002-05:00

Don't worry - it was nothing that requires a call to the authorities. The tooth was very loose and threatening to come out on its own anyway.

Last night I was brushing Simone's teeth before bed, and forgot about the loose tooth. I may have brushed a little too vigorously, trying to hurry since she was whining that I was taking too long and she didn't need to have her teeth brushed anyway. On the final swipe of her bottom front teeth, I noticed some blood mixed with the toothpaste dribbling down her chin, and she was screaming rather than just whining. The blood and screaming scared me and I thought that I'd really injured my little pumpkinhead! I finally got the bleeding and screaming under control, both achieved by stuffing a washcloth in her mouth, (again, totally innocuous and there is no need to contact the authorities!). I asked her why she was so upset; she's lost two other teeth, and hasn't freaked out about it this much. She wailed, "My tooooooth went doooown the draaaaain!"

Oops.

I looked around the area for a stray tooth, and even shined a flashlight down the drain. No tooth. I must have washed it completely down while trying to stop the bleeding.

Oops.

I told her that we could write a note to the tooth fairy to let her know that the tooth went down the drain, and Simone was OK with that. I got pen and paper and asked her what she wanted to tell the tooth fairy. Despite all her nonstop chatter throughout the day, she is a girl of few words when it comes to notes.

As we were putting out the note and the little box we use for the tooth fairy, I peeked into my wallet. Ya know, just checking out my cash situation. I had a five and a ten. No ones, which is the standard tooth fairy payment around here.

Oops.

I thought about raiding the pumpkinhead's piggy bank, but that just seemed wrong, especially since I'd just caused her so much trauma. I dug around in the bottom of my purse and came up with four quarters. When she told her dad about the tooth today, she started with "Daddy, my mommy made my tooth come out." I had to take the phone and explain. I let her have the phone again, and he asked whether the tooth fairy brought her a dollar. She answered, "No, she didn't bring a dollar, just four quarters."

I guess we need to cover currency values before the next tooth is lost!

Kindergarten

2010-08-20T00:17:00.000-05:00

Simone started Kindergarten on Wednesday.

For all the build-up over the past six months or so, it was pretty anti-climactic. She just hasn't been excited about Kindergarten lately. I think it started when she realized that her friends who were in Kindergarten last year would not still be in Kindergarten this year and she would not be joining them in the Kindergarten fun, but would be more or less on her own with this whole Kindergarten thing. We've tried lots of things to get her to start looking forward to school.

Reading Ramona the Pest (in which Ramona goes to Kindergarten) didn't do much for her.

Shopping for school uniforms did not get her pumped.

Shopping for school supplies did not do anything for her either.

"Meet the Teacher" day did not work.

Getting new socks and underwear (Toy Story panties!) was pretty cool and made her smile, but still none of the Kindergarten excitement from this spring.

Wednesday morning came, and she put on her new uniform, ate her special oatmeal (with princess sprinkles), got a donut from Daddy, hugged Biscuit and Choppy goodbye, and pouted through the mandatory picture-taking session...

She even got straight gangsta on me...

Things got a little better when we got to school and she saw all the other kids, including some little girls wearing the same jumper she was wearing. We got her to pose for more shots in the middle of the parking lot (yeah, we're responsible parents)...

Wednesday night, she didn't want to talk about school at all. She didn't want to tell me the names of any kids in her class, what she did during the day, whether she played on the playground -- nothing.

After a couple of days, she seems to be warming up to it all. Tonight she sang me a song about her school that she learned in music class, and told me about a game they played in Spanish class. I think she's going to end up liking Kindergarten after all.

A Pumpkinhead's Toy Story

2010-08-17T10:26:00.000-05:00

If you know Simone, you also know Choppy. However, you may not know the story of Choppy.

When Simone was about a year old, she was obsessed with dogs. In fact,"dog" was one of her first few words. For Christmas that year, I gave her a stuffed dog. I remember standing in front of the stuffed animal bins at Toys R Us picking through all the stuffed dogs. I didn't really care what breed it was, and Simone wouldn't have cared either. I just wanted one with "fur" that wouldn't come out too easily, and that had a cute puppy dog face. I chose a Bernese Mountain dog, and it was love at first sight.

The dog slept in her crib with her and a host of other stuffed dogs, but this one always got the prime snuggle spot next to Simone...

...most of the time, anyway...

The dog had to suffer a few indignities in order to be the favorite toy. When the pumpkinhead's pacifier was taken away by a mean mommy and daddy, the dog's snout became the substitute. Yuck. When that novelty went away, she began digging her index finger into his nose, eventually making first a large indentation in his snout, then a hole that needed repair. He ended up with no nostrils, only a white snout with some stitch marks where his nose used to be. He was still loved, regardless of his Michael Jackson-esque nose job.

The dog never had a real name; he was just called "dog" or "doggie" or "puppy". He became our constant companion and went everywhere with us. When Simone moved into the toddler room at day care and no longer napped in a crib, her teacher told me that it was very hard to get her to lie down for naptime. I suggested that the dog might help her relax and stay on her nap mat. Thus began the dog's daily trips to and from school, and Simone's reputation as a "good napper". Everyone at the school soon became familiar with Simone's dog. On the rare occasions when we forgot the dog, I could see the mild panic in the teachers' eyes. Sometimes if the meltdown (Simone's, not the teachers') was particularly bad and I could see that substituting some random toy from the back seat of my car was not going to work, I would even take an hour or so off work to go back home to get the dog. He was that important!

About a year later, Simone's teacher told me one afternoon that the dog had been lost at school. The dog was supposed to stay in her cubby and be used only for nap time, but let's be real -- a special dog in a room of two-year-olds is not going to stay in one place for long, no matter what Mommy says. I made a trip to the toy store and luckily found a bin full of the special dogs. I had doubts that "the dog" could be replaced, but I bought two and hid one away in a closet, just in case. The replacement dog worked, and was dubbed "new dog".

A few days later, the original dog reappeared. Great! Now Simone had two dogs, and she was ecstatic to have "dog" and "new dog" to play with and snuggle. When the original dog disappeared at school again about a month later (under suspicious circumstances, I might add), it was no big deal because "new dog" was right there, ready to step up to the challenge of being the lone favorite toy. He did not escape any of the indignities that came with his new title, though. By this time, Simone had discovered baby clothes and hair bows. Her dog had to be dressed to the nines at all times. Sometimes it was a simple lilac satin frock with lace; sometimes it was a tiger-striped lacy number that any exotic dance would be jealous of; sometimes he went au naturel with only a bright pony tail holder on his ear or tail.

Everything went along smoothly for about another year or so with the new dog. Then Simone and I took a short trip out of town. New dog wore a pink grass skirt all weekend -- and was stunning, I might add. During the confusion of packing up at the hotel and getting everything into the car, the dog somehow disappeared. His absence was noticed after we'd been driving for about an hour, and repeated calls to the hotel asking about a small dog wearing a pink grass skirt resulted in nothing. Nada. New dog and his skirt had apparently vanished into thin air. Needless to say, it was a looong drive home.

Remember my brilliance in purchasing two dogs when the first disappearance occurred? When we got home, I broke out the third dog, and all was well in la casa de calabazas. This dog was called simply "doggie" for a few months, then Simone made up a way to describe her love for the dog: she would hold him around the neck and shake him, saying "Doggie chops. Doggie chops.", then hug and kiss him. A bit disturbing to think that she was effectively strangling the thing she loved most, but it was a loving strangle hold, so I didn't worry too much. Eventually, "Doggie chops" evolved into "Choppy", and this became his name. Choppy is subjected to certain humiliations, just like his predecessors. He gets left behind more often than the other two dogs did, and once was left out on the playground at school overnight. But Choppy prevails. He's a survivor. Sometimes it makes me sad that Simone does not seem adversely affected when Choppy gets left at home or overnight at school...then I snap myself back to the reality of daily life with a preschooler, and am grateful that she is so well-adjusted that she can cope for a day or night without a toy. I think I love Choppy as much as she does. I may have even cried a little when the original dog was lost!

I can't tell the difference between the three dogs in pictures; I have to reference the date and try to remember the approximate dates of each disappearance to figure out which is which. Somehow, Simone can tell the difference. Once, I showed her a picture of the second dog, and called it "Choppy". She corrected me, saying "No, Mommy. That's not Choppy. That was my new dog that got lost at the hotel in Austin. He's Choppy's sister and his name was Chippy." Oh. OK. You may notice that Choppy and Chippy are female dogs, but we use masculine personal pronouns when talking about them. I'm not sure why. That's just the way it is.

Despite the fact that Choppy is only about a year old, he has quite a past. Simone tells me daily stories of their adventures and travels. Apparently, she, Choppy and Choppy's sisters (about nine of them) live together in a house in Alaska, and frequently go on vacation to the beach, China, Fort Worth, New Hamster (New Hampshire to you and me), Colorado, and outer space. Not a bad gig being the favorite toy, huh? I might even wear a pink grass skirt if I had a chance to go to outer space!

Tomorrow, the pumpkinhead will start Kindergarten. We have been reminding her over the last few months that Choppy cannot go to Kindergarten. She understands this, but seems to have stepped up her imaginary travels with Choppy and his sisters. I guess she's giving herself a good dose of Choppy to last throughout the long Kindergarten day. I told her I would put a picture of Choppy in her backpack that she could look at if she missed him too much at school. I think I'll put a copy of the picture in my purse as well.

Keeping up with the Joneses...

2010-07-21T01:07:00.000-05:00

A friend is pet-sitting a small zoo this week. In her care are two dogs, two cats, three snakes, and a tankful of fish. Simone and I went over to take a look at the snakes tonight. She was quite surprised to find that the house where the animal menagerie is located also has a pool. My friend instantly rose to rock star status in Simone's mind, because she was allowed to pet all the animals AND swim in the pool. One snake hung out on the fence while she swam, and one dog even swam with her.

After swimming for a while, I announced that it was almost time to go home. My pumpkinhead ignored me and asked her new BFF for a tour of the house! She even offered to help gather up the animals to bring them inside. So of course, we went into the home of people we don't even know. The house and its grounds are beautiful, and I was quite impressed with the landscaping and decor. If I lived there, I would not want to leave my house for anything.

Apparently, Simone felt the same way.

On the way home, she told me "Mommy, I want us to have a house like that." I immediately knew that I must have been a little too impressed in front of her and now she was comparing our lives to others'. YIKES! I was trying to think of something wise to say, when she continued, "Yes, I want our house to have two cats and two dogs and a SNAKE!"

Whew! She's only jealous of their animals (and maybe the pool a little - but that's OK. I am too!).

Birthday Blast!!!

2010-07-21T00:24:00.000-05:00

The pumpkinhead had a birthday party over the weekend. It was quite the affair. Take a look...

There were special guests. Simone has been eagerly awaiting Angie's arrival...since the last time we saw her in April. Both girls were in full makeup exactly 10 minutes after they saw each other.

There was a whale slide...

There was sliding...

And more sliding...

and cake... I named her "Princess Diana of Whales", and her dress was delicious.

and candles... I think there were seven candles, although she is only five years old. What are you going to do? She's just that special!

and then there was more sliding until almost dark...

Needless to say, everyone had a great time, and I think everyone went home completely exhausted. In fact, the pumpkinhead and I are STILL exhausted!

Singing in the rain...

2010-07-08T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm stuck in the middle and she's stuck with me...

2010-07-07T00:47:00.000-05:00

I used to sympathize with Jan Brady. I think it was a middle child thing, just trying to figure out where I fit in. Also the freckles. We had that in common, too.

I haven't thought about Jan Brady for a long time now.

Until tonight.

The pumpkinhead was looking me over while trying to distract my attention from the fact that she wasn't eating her dinner. She asked me why I have so many freckles "all over yourself" -- said with with a wrinkled nose and a disgusted sound in her voice. As if that were not bad enough, she went on to say "I want a new mommy. One who doesn't have so many freckles."

OUCH!!!

If anyone needs me, I'll be soaking in a vat of lemon juice.

How I got the Pumpkinhead to INHALE her oatmeal...

2010-07-05T22:44:00.001-05:00

Cartography

2010-06-30T17:41:00.000-05:00

The pumpkinhead loves maps. She studies the atlas like she’s preparing for a geography test. We use imaginary maps to guide us around the block when we walk the dog. She has a large U.S. map in her playroom marked with all the places she's been. When I’m driving, she draws maps for me on her sketch pad or consults her laminated map of the U.S. (in reality, this is a placemat) that she keeps stashed in the back seat. She saw an Etch-a-Sketch at the toy store recently and sat right down in the aisle and drew “maps” for 20 minutes. She's a little map freak.

Before her obsession with maps started, she would constantly ask me if we were lost. Walking the dog – “Mommy, are we lost?” Going to the store – “Mommy, are we lost?” Going to her school along the same route we take every day - “Mommy, are we lost?” I don’t get lost a lot, and I certainly don’t freak out when I do get lost, so I’m not sure what had her so worried about being lost. Now that I think about it, maybe she wanted to be lost so she could whip out a map and save the day.

A few months ago, we went to a bridal shower in a rural area where I had not been in several years. Despite my pre-planning and googled addresses and hand-drawn maps, we got a little lost. My sister-in-law and niece were in the car with us, so there was some discussion about which way to turn and which road we were supposed to be on. Ya know – talk about being lost. Simone had been to a bridal shower before, and really enjoyed it (she was one of only a few kids there, and she got to wear a little tiara and help open gifts). So she was eager to get to get to this one, and being lost was not sitting well with her. We finally found our destination and a great time was had by all at the much-anticipated shower. We even made it back home without getting lost again.

A couple of weeks later, it was time for the wedding of the recently-showered bride (haha). We were to meet the rest of our family at my aunt’s house, which is in the same area where I had not been in several years, save for the little foray mentioned above. Encouraged by my recent re-acquaintance with the area and armed with the cute little map that came with the invitation, we set off. Because I’d told everyone I knew where to go, I had my two brothers and their families following me. A little parade through the country. The country with spotty cell service.

My, how time has changed the landscape out there. Roads were paved, trees had grown, houses were built, barns were removed, blah, blah, blah… This time, we were more than a little lost. It was so bad, my brothers stopped following me. Really. They just stopped their trucks on the side of the road. Little did they know my cousin was giving me directions through a series of dropped calls. They reluctantly agreed to follow me after they found out I had outside help. AAAARRRUUUGGGHHH, brothers! At some point during the parade through the changed countryside, Simone asked me for the cute little map from the invitation. I felt that I was done with it, so I handed it over. Maybe she could make some sense of it.

Eventually, we made it to our aunt’s house and followed someone else from there to the wedding. On the way to the church, the pumpkinhead informed me that she couldn’t find the cute little map. That was fine with me. It only served as a reminder of my dismal navigating skills that afternoon. The wedding (Simone’s first) was beautiful and we all had a great time once again.

After the festivities, Simone and I got in the car to head home (without our entourage this time). She immediately began asking whether we were lost. Ummm, no. I’d gotten explicit directions to the highway, and may have been following one of those brothers who so recently had lost confidence in me (did you ever have any, really?). Anyway, as I was concentrating on getting back to familiar territory, it was very quiet in the back seat. After we were well on our way and I knew where we were going, my little pumpkinhead announced that she had drawn us a new map so we wouldn’t get lost again. Great. Thanks for the support.

Here is Simone’s map, and next is the cute little map from the wedding invitation*, that I found under the driver’s seat the next day. Not bad, eh?

* - all identifying marks have been removed. This is for your own protection, in case you are tempted to cruise out there to see for yourself how lost I really was. I don't want you to get lost too. My cousin may not be available to give you directions out of there.

It's a keeper...

2010-06-29T00:09:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty much disgusted with everyone's "summer reading lists". I've seen and heard them everywhere during the month of June. I don't care about your lists. I have exactly the same amount of time to read in the summertime as I do in every other season. So, waaah. I know. I'm a whiner.

However, our library and a number of stores have some good incentives for getting kids to read during the summer. Half-Price Books has a summer reading program where kids earn gift cards for keeping track of their reading time. Our library's program lets kids earn a free ticket to a Rangers game and some other swag for reading a certain number of books. With Borders' Double Dog Dare program, kids get to choose a free book for every 10 books they read. This is easy enough for us, since I read to Simone every day, winter or summer.

The pumpkinhead loves books that "we get to keep" (rather than taking them back to the library in a few weeks), so I printed out a few forms and have been writing down names of books we read and how long we read for a few weeks now. This weekend, we took our lists to Half-Price Books and turned them in for some gift cards. We perused the kids' section for a while, then found one of our favorites -- Fantastic Mr. Fox. We read it twice over the weekend. I guess I'll add it to the list of books we've read and take that list to Borders next weekend for another book that "we get to keep".

Coming Soon...

2010-06-26T01:55:00.000-05:00

I read an article today about upcoming movie releases, and found some interesting ones for both Simone and me...

Ramona and Beezus Yay!!! I'm really excited about this movie. The Ramona books are some of our favorites right now. We have the Ramona and Her Father audio book in the car now.

Tangled It's Rapunzel! Simone loves the book Falling for Rapunzel by Leah Wilcox, which is a funny twist on the traditional Rapunzel story. She also loves Waking Beauty by the same author.

Yogi Bear Hey, Boo-Boo! Simone may be smarter than your average pumpkinhead, but she knows nothing about Yogi Bear yet. We'll see. Did you know that there is a Jellystone Park franchise of camping sites?

Gulliver's Travels I don't think this will interest the pumpkinhead very much, but it looks like fun for older kids.

Grease is the word. A re-release of the original. And in a totally unrelated bit of trivia, Stockard Channing (Rizzo) reads the Ramona books on our audio books.

The King's Speech Colin Firth AND Guy Pearce. 'Nuff said.

Another movie that we are looking forward to seeing in the future is Punk Farm.There is no release date yet, but we'll be there when it finally opens! We have worn out our library's copies of Punk Farm and Punk Farm on Tour, and we have the music videos saved in our YouTube favorites. Peace out, Colorado!

Who's on first?... And don't call me Shirley!

2010-06-22T00:27:00.006-05:00

My conversation with the Pumpkinhead while playing veterinarian this afternoon...

The scene: The patient, Choppy, has a splinter in his paw and has limped into the offices of Dr. Mommy (played by yours truly) and her competent assistant, Dr. Peggy Nurse, who is a nurse (played by Simone). The team gave Choppy a complete physical before taking a look at his splinter, then Dr. Mommy was abruptly called out of the room by something on the stove. Dr. Peggy Nurse enters with good news.

Pumpkinhead: Dr. Mommy! Luckily, I got the splinter out of Choppy's paw!

Me: Oh! Luckily, you got it out?!?

PH: No, I got it out. ME. I'm Dr. Peggy Nurse. You're Luckily.

Me: Oh! So you got the splinter out, Dr. Peggy Nurse?

PH: Yes!

Me: Good job. Finally, you got that splinter out.

PH: Who's Finally?

I don't know who's been showing my kid Abbott and Costello skits, but THANK YOU! But if you could hold off on showing her Airplane, I would appreciate it!

Birds!!!

2010-06-22T00:17:00.000-05:00

The Pumpkinhead recently expressed her desire to "go out of town...to Fort Worth...to the zoo." So we did that today. We made the trek all the way to FW to the zoo. We actually go to the zoo fairly often, and this is almost always one of the highlights...

Something caught our attention in an area we usually stroll right past without stopping. This hyacinth macaw was hanging upside down and posing for the cameras. He clearly knew what was going on and would look into the lens and turn slightly so the paparazzi could get shots from different angles...

The zoo has some new penguins that are very cool. These two guys look like they're about to go at it, but they actually got along very well. In the right corner is a rockhopper penguin, hailing from Antarctica; in the left corner is an African blackfooted penguin, hailing from...Africa, of course.

After the zoo, we went a little further "out of town" to Everman, which is home to a large population of wild parrots. The story is that a divorcing couple couldn't decide who would get "custody" of their parrots, so they just let them go (excellent choice, people - I hope they didn't have children!). The parrots made their new home on top of an electric pole and began their own little Eden. Now the city is said to have between 100-200 parrots living in huge nests atop electric poles around town. We saw a lot of nests, and a few parrots, but I think we heard every one of those 100-200 birds. They're LOUD!

If you look closely and use your imagination, you can see a parrot looking out his window in the "penthouse" apartment along the left edge of the nest, and several other parrots looking out their windows along the lower levels of the nest...

Bailando con la calabaza

2010-06-18T00:24:00.001-05:00

These photos were taken at a concert at the Levitt Pavilion, which hosts a free summer concert series each year. We love it because it's close, it's a lot of fun, and they always have great music. Tonight, Cienfuegos was playing some Latin beats that were perfect for shaking your bootie while hula-hooping.

She also likes to dance in front of the stage. There is usually a large, empty grassy area directly in front of the stage that the Pumpkinhead uses for a stage of her own. She gets quite a lot of attention with her combination hip-hop/ballet/modern/lyrical/gymnastics/karate dance moves. Tonight she had the attention of the band. The singer announced to the crowd, "¡Alguien baile con esa muchacha!" ("Somebody come and dance with this girl!").

Simone has a good time wherever she goes!

2010-06-10T23:31:00.000-05:00

We've been watching Ponyo for a while here. Netflix may want the DVD back, but the Pumpkinhead is not ready to let it go yet. I love Hayao Miyazaki's anime movies, and I'm pretty happy that she seems to love them, too. Ponyo is so pretty - it's like a movie in watercolors.

Simone* can memorize entire scenes in an instant. We re-enact scenes from movies or books all the time -- in the car, in the bath, at dinner, while playing, walking the dog, blah, blah, blah... She is ALWAYS the director, and if I get a line wrong or miss my cue, we have to start all over. If I miraculously get my lines right, we still start over. Again. And again. And again.

Tonight we had soba noodles and dumplings (which were homemade and awesome, thankyouverymuch!) for dinner. When Simone saw that I was making noodles, she was reminded of this scene in Ponyo (sorry if you don't speak French, but you get the idea). We re-enacted the scene numerous times while making dinner, getting ready to eat dinner, while eating dinner...maybe even after dinner.

We ate at the coffee table, just like Sosuke and Ponyo. The saucers doubled as lids for our noodle bowls, just like Sosuke and Ponyo. Simone played dual roles as both Ponyo and Sosuke's mother so she could be the one to make the dramatic flourish and say "Abracadabra!" while removing the lids, then also the one to dance around with joy when the delicious noodles were uncovered. We ate with chopsticks, just like Sosuke and Ponyo. She's used them numerous times before, but it's still funny watching her try to balance those slippery noodles between her two chopsticks.

You may notice a few things in the photos above, besides my lovely dinnerware (term used loosely here) of mis-matched, chipped dishes and a plastic Rangers beer cup that is about 10 years old. 1.) The pumpkinhead is dressed as a princess. That is standard attire for meals around here. 2.) Yes, she used ketchup as a dipping sauce for her dumplings (homemade and awesome, thankyouverymuch!). That is a standard condiment for her. I've seen her dip strawberries in ketchup. At least she eats.

* -- I'm getting tired of referring to her as "Pumpkinhead" here. Although I call her by that nickname several times every day, it is awkward writing it here. Everyone knows her name is Simone, so I'm not fooling anyone here. From here on out, you will see her referred to here as both "Pumpkinhead" and "Simone". And maybe some other names. Who knows.

Another Experiment and a Christmas Gift

2010-06-10T00:29:00.002-05:00

The pumpkinhead received a Christmas gift today. Yeah, it's June, but who cares, right? A dear friend whom I haven't seen in a while (obviously since December - at least!) brought some gifts by my office today.

We had to wash it immediately so she could take it to summer camp tomorrow for naptime!

My friend also saves the prizes for us when she has a kid's meal at Chik-fil-a. One of the prizes was a flask for real, live scientific experiments. It even came with a little booklet of experiments to try. We made raisins dance tonight:

Thank you, Wanda! We love you!

A Decorated Pumpkin

2010-06-09T23:35:00.006-05:00

AAAAAARRRRUUUUGGGGHHHHH, BP!!!

2010-06-08T23:10:00.000-05:00

Please enjoy these photos of the pumpkinhead enjoying the beautiful beaches of the Florida panhandle.

And if you haven't already seen enough of the oil spill on the news, here are some amazing but disgusting pictures of the "cleanup". I get a little nauseated every time I see the mess out there.

When I'm Five...

2010-06-01T22:41:00.001-05:00

The pumpkinhead has been dreaming of the day she turns five...

When I'm five, I will be able to hula hoop like my friends at school.

When I'm five, I will go to Kindergarten.

When I'm five, I'm going to get a cat.

When I'm five, Daddy will take the training wheels off of my bike.

When I'm five, I'll be a real princess.

When I'm five, I will be able to run faster.

When I'm five, I will be able to jump higher.

When I'm five, I won't be four anymore.

No, baby, you won't be four anymore. You'll go to Kindergarten and run fast, jump high, ride a bike, hula hoop for hours on end, and maybe you'll have a cat. But you're already a real princess.

I'm just trying to hold on to the 43 days left of you being four...

More Spearmintin'

2010-05-31T19:29:00.001-05:00

Will it float? A scaled-down version of one of my favorite Letterman skits...

Musical glasses...

A little of this, a little of that...

WARNING!!! The results of the last experiment are shown below. The spearmint was made up completely in her mind, and involved whatever I would let her have from the spice cabinet and pantry. She called it "red sauce". It's pretty gross. Sorry.

Mommy, can we do a spearmint?

2010-05-24T00:36:00.001-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I made a magnificent trade on Swaptree and received My First Science Book, a book of simple experiments that kids can do at home. The pumpkinhead perused the book cover to cover, and decided on the spearmint called "Volcano in a Jar", which is basically a study in how heat rises.

This was fun enough, but involved only water and one shade of food coloring. It left the pumpkinhead wanting more. So after changing out of her school uniform, she got to use the whole set of food coloring and many, many more jars and cups for even more scientific fun while I made dinner.

Her further experiments involved lots of blue and brown water, lots of mixing of said water, and some baking soda and vinegar for another type of volcano.

She was pretty happy with her spearmint. I worked around her lab area and got dinner ready, then we shoved everything into the dishwasher after we ate. Yay, science!

Ants in my pant(ry)

2010-05-19T23:51:00.001-05:00

A couple of months ago, we got a tiny ant farm for $1.00 at Target. It has green gel inside, and the instruction sheet says that the ants will use the gel to burrow in as well as for food. Once the ants are in, we don't have to open the lid again until they're dead. Pretty morbid, but whatever. They're ants, right?

We went out and captured a few of the small ants that are constantly in the cracks of the sidewalk behind the house. We were walking the dog when we took our ant hostages, and by the time we were halfway around the block, I noticed that a couple of the ants had escaped through the air holes. We let the others go and I told the pumpkinhead that we would try to find some bigger ants that can't fit through those holes.

During the past week or so, I've started seeing these ants in my kitchen. They show up here every spring when the weather heats up. Disgusting, I know. No matter how clean I keep the counters and floors, they come in looking for something good to eat. They're getting bolder this year. They normally hang out on the counter that runs along an outside wall. This year they're in my pantry, on the opposite side of the kitchen from their usual haunt on the counter.

For a few days, I'd been smashing them when I saw them crawling around in the pantry. Then tonight I realized that they seem to be large enough for the ant farm. I brushed four of them into the box and snapped the lid shut. A life sentence instead of the immediate death penalty their little ant friends got. We watched them crawl around their little prison cell while we ate dinner.

Well, ants will be ants.

They found the air holes and started plotting their escape. The smallest one made it out of the vent, but was caught in the razor wire on the perimeter fence (the pumpkinhead's razor-sharp squeals when she saw it crawling down the outside of the box) and was shot down by the sharpshooters (my finger). The remaining three ant prisoners witnessed this episode from inside their transparent cell, so I thought they might be on their best behavior for a while. No. Within a few minutes, another one tried the same escape route. Not smart. This ant was larger than the previous escapee. His abdomen was too large for the hole. He was stuck. Like Chuck. We watched him for a while, then I got out the cameras.

He struggled and struggled. His cellmates came over to investigate, and even sniffed around the other two air holes. They saw the danger, though, and wisely didn't try it. After I took a few pictures and we got tired of watching the little ant flail his little ant legs in vain, I took the whole ant farm to the back yard and granted all of them clemency. You're free to go. Just don't show up in my pantry again. And tell your friends to stay away, too.

Eye shadow

2010-05-16T23:20:00.001-05:00

The pumpkinhead loves to wear makeup. She puts on makeup to play in the yard, walk the dog, go to the library, just whenever the mood strikes her. I recently found some tubes of brightly colored, sparkly liquid eyeshadow in a clearance bin, and she has been in heaven. So far, she has not wanted to put the eyeshadow on by herself; she asks me to do it for her -- one eye in silver, the other in purple. At least that way, we avoid this look...

That is blue eyeshadow that she applied with a blush brush. I'm not sure what effect she was going for, but she was pretty pleased with the results. Whatever.

This weekend at Target, she found a tube of sparkly blue eyeshadow and showed it to me excitedly. The tube she'd picked up was a tester, so I opened it and made a couple of swipes on her eyelids. She was happy and admired herself in every mirror she could find until we left the store.

When she was getting ready for bed that night, she asked me to take her makeup off. I wiped at it with a wet washcloth, but it did not even smudge. So I got out my eye makeup remover. Still nothing. We both started to panic a bit. I stupidly wondered aloud whether that tube was actually nail polish, which made her question my parenting skills -- "Mommy, why did you put fingernail polish on my EYES???" I'd only glanced at the tube before painting my baby with it. I remembered that it it said something about "highlighting color", but I couldn't remember anything else. Not the brand, the product name, nothing. I was questioning my parenting skills as well.

I was pondering the best way to use nail polish remover in the eye area of a four-year-old.

I was wondering if Target was still open so I could go back to look at the "eye shadow" in question to see exactly what it was.

I decided that at 10:00 p.m., the best thing to do was wait until the morning and go down to Target to investigate. I had just started to talk her into sleeping in her makeup, when I remembered that my eye makeup remover is petrolatum-free, and waterproof makeup (and temporary tattoos -- FYI) is easily removed with petroleum-based products like baby oil or vaseline. Sadly, I had neither. But I did find a tube of cherry flavored vaseline lip balm. With that and a few cotton swabs, the pumpkinhead was makeup free and ready for bed.

Whew.

Lesson learned. I'll carefully read the labels of whatever I paint onto her face from now on.

La estrella del show (the star of the show)

2010-05-16T15:27:00.006-05:00

The pumpkinhead's school had an end-of-the-year show last week. It was un espectáculo, with traditional costumes, dancing, songs, decorations, and snacks from several Spanish-speaking countries. Everyone had a great time, especially the kids. My little pumpkinhead was obviously having a blast being in front of a large audience.

She loved her vestido with its twirly skirt...

Bomba y Plena (de Puerto Rico) The other little girls all wore white headscarves during this dance. When I asked her why hers was red, she said "Because I was the star of the show." Well, of course!

Joropo (de Venezuela) Please pardon the lady's head in the shot. She was enjoying the show so much she was practically dancing in her seat. I got both her and her husband's heads in several shots. I'll have to arrive earlier next time to score front row seats!

Somos el Mundo (We Are the World)

All the kids were lined up side by side, but of course the Pumpkinhead had to break ranks and do her own thing.

An impromptu solo during the interview portion of the pageant, when the pumpkinhead just broke out in song (¡en español, por supuesto!) instead of answering her question. Apparently her classmate doesn't appreciate the "melodic" tones of her voice. I love the two ladies behind the table, though. That's probably how I looked, too, llena de orgullo.

I make old people sad.

2010-05-15T00:28:00.001-05:00

I recently made an elderly lady cry. That sounds horrible, and I guess it is bad. But I didn't intend to make her cry. I just realized too late that she may have a touch of dementia.

She is the new roommate of someone I visit in a nursing facility. She was warning me about the current state of our society and explaining how history tends to repeat itself. She told me that if we continue on the path we've been on in these United States recently, that we will end up in a war. Without realizing exactly how incoherent her end of the conversation was, I pointed out that we are, in fact, currently involved in TWO wars.

The waterworks started.

She was frightened.

She was indignant that nobody in the U.S. has heeded her apparently repeated warnings.

Then 10 minutes later she'd forgotten the whole conversation, the two wars, the fact that no one is listening to her, and was again telling me that history will repeat itself. Yeah. Not in this room, lady. I'm not spilling the beans again!

We've kept this tricycle too long...

2010-05-13T23:09:00.000-05:00

February, 2007

May, 2010

I was almost outwitted by technology today.

2010-05-12T23:15:00.000-05:00

I like gadgets, and I have a several little gadgets that are cool and useful.

Earlier this week, I downloaded an app for my i-Pod Touch that stores all my rewards card numbers (grocery stores, pet stores, drug stores, blah, blah, blah) and membership numbers (library, movie theater, airline, hotel, blah, blah, blah), so I no longer have to carry the cards around with me. When I want Tom Thumb to capture my shopping data so they can offer me coupons that I never use, I can just whip out the i-pod and pull up the barcode for the cashier to scan. Cool because...well it's just cool...and useful because it cleared a lot of space in my wallet.

A few years ago, I put a keypad lock on the door in the garage. Cool because I no longer have to carry around a key, and useful because now the pumpkinhead can open the door for me while I'm carrying in the various bags, backpacks, lunchboxes, purses, stuffed animals, blah, blah, blah that we drag to and from school/work every day.

I have a radio bookmark that marks the NPR story I'm listening to when I push a button. Later, when I plug the bookmark into my PC, it pulls up the internet link to the story so I can read it or listen to it again or see the related pictures, charts, websites, blah, blah, blah. It is cool because I think it is, and it is useful because I am almost always late for work, and I almost never get to finish listening to the story that was on when I skid to a stop in my office parking lot.

Today I came home from work and entered my house through my door with the keypad lock. I turned on my computer and plugged in my radio bookmark so I can see the photos from the story about art in Japanese internment camps that I couldn't finish listening to this morning. Then I got my i-pod and my debit card (the cool app isn't set up for debit cards -- yet) and went for a run to do some exercise and some errands. When I got home again, I punched in my handy-dandy code on my very cool keypad lock. And nothing. Just an ominous beeping sound. I tried again. Still nothing. Just an annoying beep-beep-beep.

So I was locked out of my house. I paused to consider my options:

The pumpkinhead's dad would be bringing her home in another hour or so. He has a key for emergencies. I think this would qualify. But it was hot, especially after my two-mile run/walk. And I was thirsty.

I could go to the neighbor's air-conditioned house and have a glass of water while I wait for them. But then I would have to explain to the neighbor why exactly I was locked out of my house. And I was a little stinky after my two-mile run/walk.

I could go to the pumpkinhead's air-conditioned "castle" in the back yard and wait for them. But the gate was locked. I could attempt to climb over the fence. But it is eight feet tall and I'm not as athletic as I used to be. And the neighbors might see me fall off the fence in the process (not that they haven't witnessed plenty of my other less-than-magnificent feats during the time I've lived here).

While I was standing in my garage trying to decide what to do, I remembered that I have a key in my car. Not a key to the house, but a key to the lock on the gate. It was a start. I found the key and let myself into the back yard. There was Biscuit, looking at me as if wondering what in the world I was up to now (not that he hasn't witnessed even more of my less-than-magnificent feats).

While I was in the back yard, I had a thought. Biscuit is in the yard because he came out of his dog door. Yes. The dog door. I have been angry with Lowe's for over a year because they sold me the wrong size dog door. This dog door is much too large for a 20-pound pug. But it is the right size for my niece, who makes sure she still fits through it every time she visits. And with enough twisting and turning, it was the right size for me! Lowe's gets a pass on this one. With Biscuit watching, I made it into my cool house and poured myself a large glass of cold water. Aaaaah!!! I think Biscuit was as excited as I was that I'd made it back into the house. Or maybe he was just laughing his head off in his own pug language.

So from this, I've learned a few things:

Maybe I am as athletic as I used to be.
Any size 8 (or under) burglar can get into my house. And NO, burglars, I'm NOT giving you my address!
Even a cool i-pod with cool apps can't help you when your cool keypad locks you out.
Dog doors can now be considered "cool technology" in my book.

dos dos chica (tutu cute)

2010-05-12T18:10:00.002-05:00

The pumpkinhead becamed enamored with a make-your-own-tutu kit at the store last weekend. It said "no sewing", and "it's so easy!". The four-year-old girl on the box said "I made my own tutu!"

It was cute.

It was half price.

We purchased it with visions of a lovely afternoon spent together making the skirt, then the pumpkinhead happily dancing in her new tutu and me lounging in the orchestra section of our in-home performance hall (a.k.a. the couch in the living room), enjoying the impromptu ballet.

What we found when we opened the box was a lot of tulle strips, a few ribbons, and a length of elastic sewn into a circle that barely fit around the pumpkinhead's 12-inch waist. It was easy enough to assemble the skirt, and she "helped" quite a bit.

What we did not find when we opened the box were instructions in English. Only Spanish. Lucky for us we've been studying the language. I double checked for the English version. Still not there. I began reading the Spanish instructions out loud, certain that I could figure it out if I just read the words a couple of times. When I looked up after reading the first couple of steps, I saw that the pumpkinhead was following along! She totally understood the Spanish instructions!!! Success! I've got a bilingual kid who can (sort of) make a simple skirt!

She wore the skirt to the zoo the next day, and was a huge hit with other four-year-old girls and an older couple who had the pleasure of eating lunch at the table next to us. They obviously had no idea that they would be dining on chili dogs next to a very loud (both audibly and visually) prima ballerina when they made the decision to come to the zoo that day.

I just noticed that Amazon's regular price for the kit is less than I paid after it was marked half off at World Market. Nice. Amazon's cheaper kit probably comes complete with instructions in English AND Spanish, too.

Thanks for pointing that out.

2010-05-11T23:14:00.000-05:00

We read Beezus and Ramona recently. In the book, Ramona describes her eyes as "brown and white", which mortifies Beezus. Because isn't it just sooo embarrassing when your little sister says something silly like that??

The Pumpkinhead asked me what color her eyes are, so I told her they are brown and white like Ramona's. Then I opened my own eyes wide and said, "See, my eyes are blue and white." She added very dryly, "...and red."

Just me and my Pumpkinhead...

2010-05-11T00:03:00.000-05:00

Not MY actual head, really. Not anyone's actual head, really. Just a silly name I call my daughter. Pumpkinhead. (Sometimes just Pumpkin, when I'm too lazy to add the "head".) She doesn't mind it (yet), and I think it's cute. Sure, for some it may invoke images of a late '80's horror film, or crazy punk songs about the movie, or even political commentary in music. (Yeah, I've had people ask me about all of these when they hear me call her Pumpkinhead.) But I just get a very literal image of a cute little munchkin with a pumpkin for a head.

My pumpkinhead daughter and I are both learning to speak Spanish. She, at four years, is learning at a much more rapid pace than I am. But I can (usually) conjugate verbs and I know bigger words! So the name of the blog is "¿Qué pasa, Calabaza?". Loosely translated, this means "What's up, Pumpkin?". It's nonsensical, but it rhymes and makes me smile.

So if you click here any time in the future, you will see what's up with my pumpkinhead. Sometimes it may just be a favorite new photo, sometimes a recount of our adventures in learning to speak another language, or sometimes a story about how smart/funny/cute/silly she is. I'm obnoxious like that about my kid.