Mini-vacation . . . of 3 hours

We have our kitchen completely torn up right now. We are living in the basement, where we have a second kitchen. I suppose some might snarkily say that they are unsympathetic to the complaints of a woman with two kitchens. Fine, I say. Live with my children in a basement for 2 days. Then we'll talk.

And so Daddy volunteered to take them to his dad's house tonight for mommy's mini vacation. And I sat at a coffee shop and read about how to teach my child to read. Because when you have small children who are smarter than you are, your "alone time" takes on a slightly different meaning.

Disapproval and instruction

Today was a banner day for BC, who really has a way with putting others in their places. Last night we went to dinner with the grandparents, and I proceeded to dump the "non-spill" kiddy cup they had given BC's little brother all over the table. I suppose they only intend it to be non-spill if you leave the lid on. If you try to take the lid off, all bets go with it. In point of fact, if you try to take the lid off you will find it next to impossible, which will probably cause you to spill the contents of the cup. But my excuses and explanations are inadequate. Just ask BC.

She looked utterly horrified that I would spill the drink, and especially that I would spill it all over Grandma, who was sitting opposite me. As we were mopping it up, she was looking at me with a look that said, "You are a disgrace." And I suppose she was right. But she didn't have to say as much. Not even by implication.

"Mama, you should not have done that," she said. I acknowledged that she was right. But that was not enough.

When the waitress came to clean things up, BC piped up, "I'm sorry she did that," placing such an emphasis on "she" as to make it entirely clear that the nitwit who visited this breach of etiquette upon her fellow diners could not in any way fairly be linked with her. But not even that was enough.

She then addressed her little brother and said, "You know that what she did was inappropriate." Again with the "she." It took a good 20 minutes for her indignation to wear off.

***
This evening, BC accompanied her father on some errands. At one point he expressed frustration by saying, "Oh, shoot."

"Daddy, little people should say phooey." He agreed with her that it was a very suitable word for little people.

"Sometimes big people say bad words," she went on. He once again agreed.

"Sometimes Mommy says bad words. And Mommy shouldn't say bad words."

Thanks, kid. Reminds me of the time you went to Acme with Daddy and, on your way through the wine and beer section, announced loudly so that all of the customers in the aisle heard you, "Mommy comes to this aisle three times a day!"

***

Later in the evening, she decided that I should take a nap on the couch, so she industriously began covering me up with "blankets," to wit a waterproof changing pad and a kitchen trash bag that happened to be on hand from our cleaning spree this weekend. I was touched with her concern. She even went so far as to find me some bedtime reading.

"Would you like to read this before bed?" She handed me a copy of Richard II.

"Umm, sure, I guess so. Thanks." I took it from her. "Would you like me to read you some of it?"

"No fank you. I will read it to you because I know it as well as you do."

She then began reading to me about Thomas II.

I offered once again to read it to her. I said I could read her Gaunt's speech about England. She acquiesced and handed me the book. As I read aloud, she said, "You can read to yourself so you can fall asleep."

I chose not to be offended and simply kept reading aloud.

"Are you reading to yourself?" she asked imperiously.

"Yes, I am," I replied.

"Okay." Because this is a child who knows which hills she's ready to die on.

***

As a bonus, I was changing the little man's pants this afternoon as he was having a nuclear meltdown. I discovered that it was because his pants were filthy. As I changed them, he was wailing and sobbing and his tears were dripping into his ears, calling to mind the next Top 10 Tiny Tot Country Hits song title: I've Got Tears in My Ears from Lying on My Back on My Pillow Crying Over Poo.

Which in turn called to mind the new hit titles from Ellie's last meltdown, taken verbatim from the rants she indulged in: "I Can't Make My Voice Stop Crying," (choked out amidst gasps and sobs that had taken up residence in her ragey little throat) and "Come Back, Come Back, I love You," words uttered after she was deposited punitively in her room.

Bedtime prayers

I was nursing our little ADD baby upstairs while BC and Daddy read their bedtime story and prayed their prayers down in the basement by the Christmas tree, the lights of which cause the little man to forget entirely what he's supposed to be doing, i.e. nursing. I heard BC climbing the stairs and saying to her Daddy, "May I teach him prayers?" He said she could.

She then came barreling into the living room and rattled off, rapid fire, the Lord's Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis, a Hail Mary, the Apostle's Creed and the prayer to St. Michael the Archangel. There were very few stumbles, and all were delivered in an attitude of true earnestness. I told her just how proud I was and gave her a big hug.

Then Daddy took her to change her diaper and began teaching her Christ's Greater and Lesser Commandments. She could not wait to get in to the living room to teach her brother. She was a bit shaky herself, but she took her job of teaching them to him with utter seriousness.

Quite the big sister, I'd say!

Hobbits and Misfits

Daddy is finishing up The Hobbit with BC, who is thoroughly enjoying it. When I had her brother at the doctor's office today for a hideous cough and an ear infection, she and her daddy sat down to read "a little bit." Twenty-five pages later, they were mere pages from the end. She didn't want him to stop reading! But she was listening pretty intently.

During the last battle, when Bilbo is injured but has forgotten to take off his ring and no one who is hearing his cries can find him, Daddy said to BC, "Why can't people find Bilbo?"

"Because he's invisible!"

"That's right! Why is he invisible?"

"Because he's wearing his ring!"

***

Later this evening, we had one of those moments you want just to bottle so you can either laugh your tail off 3 years from now or relive them and cry.

BC was watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer with her daddy while I put her brother to bed. I came back to the basement where they were and she was sobbing. Absolutely sobbing. Shnuffling and crying and whimpering. I said, "What in the world happened?"

"She's crying about Rudolph," said her dad. "She feels really sorry for him."

I was gobsmacked. That had never occurred to me. In fact, I think I would've been mocked soundly if I had reacted that way as a kid.

But sure enough: When Clarice is scolded by her father for hanging about with "red-nosed reindeer," BC began to cry outright and said, "Poor Rudolph!"

My child has ten times the empathy I have. 


I will say, however, that at the end of the movie when Daddy said that he would read her A Christmas Carol on the basement couch tonight instead of in the living room, she announced, "Ok. You go upstairs and get A Christmas Carol while I stay here." Sir, yes, sir. 

Last night we attended a ceremony for my grandfather's portrait hanging at the Medina County Court of Common Pleas. It was a lovely event. Grandpa's law partner, Bob Bux, presented the portrait with some lovely words. At one point, he retold the story of Grandpa's showing up in his office and reciting, from memory, Kublai Khan, which he correctly identified as a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. BC, who was sitting on the table of the grand jury room facing her grandpa (my dad), immediately perked up and said, "He wrote Rime of the Ancient Mariner!"

She then went on to enjoy rather a large meal with her grandpa at an Italian restaurant, where they enjoyed lasagne and spumoni, two of BC's favorites.

This morning, BC has been up to her usual tricks, and has kept me hopping. She's had a head cold. I could hear her froggy little voice in her room when she woke up, saying, "Mom? Mommy? Are you there?" And then, poor thing, she started coughing. So I trotted into her room to get her up and get her moving, and she announced, "I was choking like a bat."

I was ignorant of bats' tendencies to choke.

So we changed pants, had some cuddles and then headed into the house for the day. But her brother was being naughty. Her solution was to move in, Commando style, and fix the problem. I hauled her off of him and explained that she was not in charge. "If he is doing something he's not supposed to be doing, you let Mommy discipline him."

He kept being naughty. There was a pause.

"Mommy, will you discipline him please?"

I was talking to my mom on the phone at the time and told her what BC had said. Then I heard her pipe up: "But you're not disciplining him!"

Reading Comprehension

Matt is reading The Hobbit to BC at night. I am amazed at what she understands. He is currently reading to her about the encounter between Smaug and Bilbo after Smaug has chased Bilbo and the dwarves out of his lair when they've stolen his treasure.

At one point, she says to him, "Dragons sleep in tunnels." We agreed. "And take naps in tunnels."

Hard to argue with that.

Then he starts to read about how Bilbo tries to creep past Smaug but Smaug smells him and wakes up.

"Is the dragon awake?"
"Yes, he is. He's waking up."
"Dragons don't talk, do they?"
Foolishly, we told her they do not. Then Smaug talked.
"Dragons DO talk!"
"You're right. They do."
"Is Smaug chasing him? Is he going to take him away?"
"He is. But whom is he chasing?"
"Bilbo, I fink."
"That's right. Bilbo."
"Smaug is going to take him away from the dawarves." (That is a purposeful misspelling. She says "dawarves." It's the cutest thing ever.)

[further reading]

"Has he taken him away yet?"
"No, not yet, honey. Keep listening."

[more reading]

"Is the dragon talking?"
"Yes. He is."
"He's talking to Bilbo?"

"And then there are all the others?"
"All the other what, honey?"
"The other dawarves!"
"That's right, sweetie. And where are the dwarves?"
"They're somewhere that the dragon can't find them and take them away."

I'd say she's doing okay with her reading comprehension!

Sleeping. Finally!

BC slept NINE HOURS last night!! I could get used to this! :)