Bottomless cup

The other day Luci and I were watching a show I found on PBS called Mama Mirabelle's Home Movies. This is a cute show that teaches kids about animals and the natural world. For a review of the show check out this site.

In a nutshell, most of the characters are young animals of the African savannah who run into a problem they need to solve or a question that they want to answer. Mama Mirabelle the elephant illuminates the issue with home movies she has shot. While the characters are animated, the home movies are actual footage of animals shot by National Geographic or BBC (The show originally aired on the BBC, and although I hate to admit to being an anglophile, I LOVE the BBC.)

So Luci and I are sitting on the couch watching Mama Mirabelle explain to her calf, Max and his friends, Karla the zebra (who has a New Zealand accent?!?) and Bo the cheetah, why their new friend is so good at hide and go seek. Turns out their new friend is a bat. Thus Mama Mirabelle launches into an explantation of echolocation. They begin with talking about echoes and how certain sounds in certain places bounce back. At this point I look over and Luci has her head bent over her cup of "Hot-tea" (yes, my kid is already learning to enjoy a morning cup of herbal), and is talking into the mug. Apparentally she was expecting a reply because she kept saying things ("Mommydaddy, Daddymommy. Doggie?") and then putting her ear to the top of the mug to see if anyone would respond. It was all I could do to not double over laughing. I asked her if there was anyone in there. She gave me this puzzled look, looked back down into her cup and then up at the TV. We continued to watch the program without any more comic mishaps.

I love how much Bean's interested in animals and the natural world (I accept full blame with pride). She even has a book we found in Yellowstone about animal scat and tracks called Who Pooped in the Park? (an awesome series I might add). But already I want to start buying all those science activites you find at the Exploratorium in SF and other cool science museums. I'm already thinking about showing her how things grow and sprout roots (i.e. the infamous potato/toothpick thing). My mind races and I start checking out parent teachers stores and looking at teaching materials. And then I think maybe we should focus on colors and learning what blue is, and that blue and yellow make green, before we move onto photosythesis and evaporation. I think I grudgingly have to admit that my mom was right - I'm a teacher at heart, whether I want to be or not.

Check it out mom! SNOW!

Hey Kathy. Whatcha doin' with that thing?

My turn! Let me help.

Wow, that was hard work. I think I'll just sit here and watch.

Am I in the way or something?

Anybody catch the license number on that snowplow?

So this is what a snowman feels like.

WHEEEE! No, don't stop. Who cares if there's a car coming?

I brake for snowmen.

Got your nose??

I'm going to miss you in the morning.

Science & Sex: Or How to Seriously Confuse your Kid

Outdoor enthusiasts. Wildlife nuts. Environmentalists. However you want to put it Mike and I both get really excited about the natural world. We watched the entire 11-hour BBC series "Planet Earth" and I can't wait to see the encore presentation later this month. (How cool is the first-ever film footage of a snow leopard catching prey?! C'mon!) To put it another way, I bought the Handy Science Answer Book for fun.

When I say this it should come as no surprise that I've already explained to my 21-month-old daughter that all mammals have breasts.

I mean when a kid points at your breasts in the shower and says "Was dat?" what else are you supposed to say?
"Those are mama's boobies. You have boobies too."
She looks down at her chest. "Me?"
"Yes, you. See."

And so the conversation has continued, as all toddler conversations do.
"Mama?"
"Yes, Mama has boobies"
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Daddy has boobies."

"Me?"

"Yep, you have 'em too."

"Dogdog?"

"Yes, Dogdog has boobies too. That's 'cause she's a mammal. All mammals have boobies."

Enough repetitions and I thought we had this down. Until today.

My grandma had breast cancer and a double mastectomy by the time she was 50. She's had prosthesis almost my entire life and it's omething we're all very used to. There are tales of me putting on her bra (fakes and all) backward and wearing it like a backpack around the house. Stories abound. And today we added another one to the canon.

Luci was running around the living room and found herself at one point seated in Nana's lap. She looked down at Nana's chest and noticed that, for a change, the obligatory bumps were not where they should be.

"Boobies?" she asked, and then proceeded to lift up Nana's shirt and search for them. When she couldn't find them in the typical place she looked under her arms, around on her sides and even down under the waistband of her pants.

Thoroughly confused she got down, ran over to my mom and lifted up her shirt: "Boobies." She lifted up her shirt: "Boobies." She ran back over to my Nana: "Boobies?"

My mom had to leave the room she was laughing so hard.

Ok, kid. I give in. Science is not exact. I guess there is an exception to every rule.

Of course the one that will really screw her up is when she sees Star Wars and the singer in the cantina on Tatooine.

The "Latest" . . .

Friends are always asking what Lucine is up to so I thought I would post the most recent tid-bits.

• She will yell as loud as she can and then look at me and say "Uh-oh."

• Love, and I mean loves the wind. We put the windows down in the car and she squeals and waves her arms.

• She tried to pick up dog poop with a paper towel yesterday.

• Has discovered that the spacer for my inhaler makes cool sounds when she blows into it. She wanders around the house using it as a horn/kazoo.

Half-Baked: Our First Adventures in Baking

Let me set the stage:

It's 5:00 p.m. Enter the Bean, BORED. Bean has been entertaining herself while The Giant, lately known as Mom-eeee, bakes desserts for a birthday party Saturday.

Mom-ee goes to the drawer to get a measuring spoon, and a moment later here comes Bean with another measuring spoon, eager to help.

So, against her better judgement, The Giant let her . . . (at this point you're probably thinking, "Oh boy, I wouldn't want to have to clean up that mess. But I would have liked to see it.")



Shockingly it was not the flour-fest you might expect. The Giant measured, the Bean poured. While Mom-ee stirred, the Bean stood on her step-stool and watched.

And when they were finished, the Bean naturally got to lick the spoon. Which she of course shared with the Dog.

A Sampling of Summer

It seems no one blogs very much during summer. At least in our case, we're so busy enjoying the weather and getting outside, reading good books, BBQing with friends, going to weddings, and visiting family that blogging ceases to become a priority.

However, in the process I do manage to snap a couple entertaining photos. So I thought I'd share as way of an update.

In June I found the Bean (or Bug, as she's beginning to be known) a great pair of sunglasses that she fell in love with. I didn't know how much she liked them until one morning about a week later. Mike and I were sitting on the couch waking up to Luci's morning requisite, Sesame Street. We heard a noise and turned to see the Bean walking out of the kitchen toward the TV, sunglasses on, drinking away.

My grandparents, affectionately deemed Nana and Papa, have spent quite a bit of time at our house since Luci was born. In late June they came up for about 10 days and Nana introduced Luci to the world of stickers. That went over with a bang. The Bean has the motor skills of a kid twice her age (which makes life infintely harder and easier all at the same time) and after only an hour she was pulling stickers off the paper on her own and sticking them on, well, everything! Herself, the dog, Nana, me, the table, the paper.

Reno has been HOT this summer. My repeated catchphrase is that "I moved out of the Central Valley for a reason!" It has been in the 100s and smoky from all the Sierra wildfires. We're used to 90s at most, and a nice wind that comes every afternoon between 3 and 4 p.m. With this as the norm, fans pretty much do the trick so we only turn on the AC maybe half a dozen times during the summer. One day it the 100 degree weather caught up with us before we realized it. I was miserable, Luci was cranky, and even the dog looked wilted. So as I was making dinner I gave up. I put the baby gate across the kitchen entrance, brought out her tub, and we had water play in the kitchen. I highly recommend it as a way of distracting the kid when you're trying to make dinner during the summer. And in the desert heat, water is not a huge issue to clean up afterwards.

Also, I should mention that Mike and I are going to be vacationing in the Yellowstone/Grand Teton area in August so if anybody has any suggestions or recomendations be sure to toss them our way.

Solstice thoughts

Solstice is my favorite time of year. Some people think it's because it's the longest day of the year, but I approach winter solstice with the same reverence. It emphasizes the cyclical nature of the world, and what can I say, I'm all about cycles. The cycles of the sun, moon, plants, friendships, relationships, cravings, my own growth & insights. And just like Yeat's concept of the gyre, the fascination is in the complexity.

And this year, I'm totally caught up in it. I've been looking forward to it for days. I keep thinking about cycles, wondering where this particular curvature of our lives is going to take us. Jobs here, or abroad? Which of us will work and which will take care of the Bean? I wonder where my writing will take me in the next year and if I'll be able to develop the 16 ideas lurking in the forefront of my brain at the moment (now if I could just quit my compulsive cleaning and volunteer sh%$ maybe I could develop these into more than notes). And as I watch my little Bean sprout in front of me I wonder, as always what kind of person she'll become, but right now I'm mostly wondering what she'll do next.

You see, Lu has turned into a bona fide toddler. And it's a cliche in some ways. One morning Mike and I are sitting on the couch and she comes out of the kitchen to watch TV wearing her sunglasses and drinking from her bottle. She spins in circles . . . a lot. She carrys around a bucket filled with blocks, plays tug-o-war with the dog, runs outside any chance she can get, and has learned how to take her diaper off. I know I should probably be mourning her lost babyhood, but I'm eccstatic we've (mostly) moved past the playing in the toilet stage. As I've said before, for better or worse, I'm not the most sentimental mother.

I'm spending most of my day either laughing myself silly or exasperated as hell. I may shoot myself for saying this, 'cause I never thought I would, but I'm beginning to enjoy being a stay at home mom. And not for the obvious I-don't-have-to-work-or-do-anything-I-don't-want-to reasons. I'm excited about taking her to the library, starting swim lessons, going to the zoo and making animal sounds (and not having people look at me funny). Part of me misses work. I miss writing, creating, teaching, learning, and feeling like I'm contributing to the world and our bank account. But I guess I always assume I'll go back to work someday and then I can revisit that part of my identity.

I can't be all things at once. I've tried, it sucks. So for right now I get to indulge the mama/caretaker/healer/cook/gardener side of me that loves to nurture. It'll get saccarine sweet soon enough. But then I can get witty and cynical and selfish (besides, friends and collegues who read my writing tell me I'm funnier during that stage). I can feel the cycles in me best at this time of year. It tells me that even if I'm frustrated now, even if I feel stagnant, it will change. Things will balance out and right themselves again soon - it's all part of the cycle.