[insert favorite Batman reference here]

In that special kind of crazy that is the hallmark of a bedtime routine that should've started already, here is yet another exchange that I couldn't make up if I wanted to:

me to lad who shall remain nameless: "My patience is really waning.  Please listen and follow directions."

him: "What does 'waning' mean?  Like Bruce Wayne?"

something like that...

haphazard and slaphappy

haphazard (adj.)

• definition: that "any which way" attitude that enables bambini (or adults) who've tossed their belongings into a pile (rather than stowing said treasures in any sort of organized fashion) to call the result "tidy".

slaphappy (adj.)

• definition: the state of being that results from a full weekend of birthday festivities, lots of yummy food, sunshine, fresh air, a bit more sugar than usually ingested, and sleep lost for the excitement of it all.

iMommy

The 19-month-old younger lass is better able to express herself verbally every day.  This is a great relief on many levels since we like to know what she's thinking and appreciate when she's able to convey those thoughts in her "inside voice."

Although we have used a few signs with her as she's been acquiring a command of the language to bridge the gap between her knowing what she wants but not being able to express it verbally, she really hasn't employed too many of them herself.  Instead she uses the "i" trend to her own advantage:

"I pack pack."
translation: "I want a backpack like my brothers and sister."  Or more accurately, "I want any one of *their* backpacks."

"I yogurt."
translation: "Fetch me my Foogo."

"I pan-pake."
translation: "I would like a pancake, please."

"I daw-bewy."
translation: "Strawberries are my favorite.  Please give me more -- *lots* more."

"I dirt."
translation: "Let me in on the Mud Season action!"

To her credit, she is *very* polite.  She does parrot back "pease" when prompted to say please, and she is quick to say "thank you" without prompting, even if her emotions are running high.  Somehow, that casts the demands requests in an "aww -- isn't she so cute?" kind of light.

As this trend has evolved, my beloved and I have joked about the next step in the sequence.  He'll be "iDaddy," and I'll be "iMommy" ...

school spirit

School starts next week for the lads.  The elder lad is going into first grade.  He is looking forward to having a "buddy" at school in the form of his brother, who is enrolled in preschool three days a week.

To get us in the school spirit, we've been reading some school-themed picture books...

Is Your Buffalo Ready for Kindergarten?  by Audrey Vernick is one of my favorites.  Its appeal lies in its wacky premise of a buffalo (of all creatures, brought to life by illustrator Daniel Jennewein) going to kindergarten and learning to interact with other kids, follow classroom procedures, and "get along without using your horns" (ahem). 

The elder lad often admits to wondering what we're doing while he's at school.  He's obviously not the only one.  Toby Forward's What Did You Do Today? follows a mother and child through their respective first days at work and school, beginning at home with them packing their lunches and getting ready.  Throughout the day each is thinking of the other while enjoying their respective environments.  When they are reunited, they are both eager to know the title question. Carol Thompson's illustrations carry the story with poignant secondary illustrations such as pictures the mother and child have of each other in their respective cubbies. 

One Smart Cookie: Bite-Size Lessons for the School Year and Beyond is the latest in the series of cookie-themed vocabulary books by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, charmingly illustrated by Jane Dyer and her daughter Brooke.  Ideals like empathy, punctuality, initiative, diligence, and honesty are conveyed with the sweetness only cookies can deliver.  I've mentioned these cookie books before, but have I mentioned how addictive these whole-wheat oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are?   

Audrey Penn's The Kissing Hand is a classic in the canon of books designed to prepare kids for the experience of going to school.  Chester Raccoon is nervous about being away from his mother, expecting he will miss her.  His mother acknowledges this and has a tangible solution for those times when Chester needs some reassurance that their reunion is coming soon.  We have adapted this for our own farewells.  I daresay it really works.

Along the same lines, Llama Llama Misses Mama by Australian author/illustrator Anna Dewdney is one of several books featuring lovable Llama Llama and his loving mama.  Llama Llama is starting nursery school, and though it looks like fun, he wonders if Mama will really be back to pick him up like she has promised.  When the younger lad went to vacation bible school earlier this summer at the school that will soon be his (not just his brother's), he had fun but missed me.  I hope that experience will serve as comfort if and when the lad misses me at preschool, since he'll know I'll be back before he knows it.

In our school-readying efforts, we're also queuing up our schoolhouse rock playlist.  Still, it'll take all of us some getting used to this sight:  

All signs point to a great experience on the horizon.  Here's hoping for that and praying for the grace to allow ourselves the best possible outcome.

tutti fruity

Call it Kindergarten humor, musician mama style: a form of collective address I hadn't thought of until this evening when the lass (who will be two tomorrow) and her brother (the younger) started a round of antibiotics, thus joining their elder brother already on them (such drama is beyond the scope of this post).  The younger lad's elixir has a certain fruity aroma.

As in... tutti frutti.

Then it hit me -- the musical connection:
Tutti.

As in... "all y'all" (a regionalism that needs no further explanation).

Won't the lads love that?! I'm sure the elder lad will be happy to demonstrate pronouncing the full stop necessitated by the double consonant: "TOOT-ee."

Let's try it out:

"Tutti! To the Bambini Ride!"
"Tutti! Hands to yourselves!"
"Tutti! Bouncy balls *up* the stairs only!"

Talk about speaking their language...

wishful thinking

Cruising the parking lot with a Ride full of bambini awaiting my beloved on a quick jaunt into the hardware store, we scoped out the outbuildings and dog kennels along one side of the asphalt spread.

"When [my brother and I] have our own house, we'll have one of those for our dog," the younger lad declared.

"Will it be a big dog or a little dog?" I asked him.

"A big dog -- but we'll still be your sons," he assured me.

***

When his fanciful request for Chocolate-Covered Sugar Bombs (that's the blanket term my mom used for any of the myriad nutritionally-bereft offerings in the cereal aisle) was denied, the same lad brightened and said, "when I'm grown, I'll get those."

story time returns! and some new books by favorite authors

Story time at our library resumed today!  How we do look forward to story time largely because of the talented and dedicated children's librarian who presents it.  Sometimes we're the only ones there, which is a real shame considering its excellent and engaging (i.e. fun) presentation.

As we were getting ready to go this morning, the younger lad said "I hope she brings the instruments.  I want to play the star".  It took me some silent eyebrows-furrowed pondering to figure out he meant a triangle.   I told him I didn't know if she'd bring the instruments, but that she just might.  She did, and he got to play his "star."

(He *does* know it's called a triangle, not a star -- I think.)

The lass and her brother shared a carpet square as they listened intently to the stories -- all about bears -- and played their instruments.  At dinner time the lad proudly told his daddy about playing the "star" (see caveat above), and the lass chimed in with "shaker!", which was her favorite among the instruments she played.

In honor of story time's return, here are a couple of new books by authors I've noted before:

The boy in Caldecott Medalist Chris Raschka's new Little Black Crow has some questions for a bird he spies circling in the sky ranging from the here and now of where the bird goes to the more far-flung inquiries into the crow's life experiences (which the boy assumes might parallel his own).  Raschka's watercolors in this book are more subdued than those in his illustrations of Norton Juster's The Hello, Goodbye Window (which I love for the feelings it evokes of the bond we have with our parents and grandparents), but they are just as beautiful and emotive of the introspective wonderings of this curious boy.

Having hit upon a new at least semi-healthy chocolate cookie recipe for snack time in the elder lad's Kindergarten classroom last week, I find Amy Krouse Rosenthal's latest book on the sweet subject particularly timely.  One Smart Cookie: Bite-Size Life Lessons for the School Year and Beyond (illustrated, like the others in this series, by Jane Dyer and her daughter Brooke) is the latest in a series of vocabulary and life skill lessons presented through the lens of creating and sharing cookies among friends.  Internalizing words including "organized," "prompt," "empathy," "integrity," and "prompt" and their meanings never tasted so good.

Story time is a family tradition, since the time my beloved and I were children ourselves.  We are very fortunate to have such an excellent story time right here in our midst. It's a great way to start our week, and it's been the avenue to developing friendships with not only the librarian herself but also some of our neighbors. 

Here's hoping we have our instrumental nomenclature straightened out by next week's story time...

toddlerisms: the best kind of vocabulary lesson

younger lad: "I'm a chip-a-nee-ma."

me: "What's that?"
he: "It's a kind of chickpea."

me: "What do you use it for?"
he: "For chook chooks."

me: "What are those?"
he: "A kind of cookie."

well, of course.

cookies

Oftentimes as we drive away from dropping off the elder lad at preschool, my younger lad will say "Should we bake chocolate chip [or breakfast] cookies?" Always a fine idea, I think.

We've hit upon a charming set of books by Amy Krouse Rosenthal (illustrated by Jane Dyer and Brooke Dyer) featuring cherubic little children and animals making, eating, sharing (or not), and musing about cookies.  As they do, various words like patient, perseverent, compassionate, moderation, trustworthy, considerate, and fair (among many others) are explained in cookie-themed easy-to-understand terminology.  Cookies: Bite-Size Life Lessons, Christmas Cookies: Bite-Size Holiday Lessons, and Sugar Cookies: Sweet Little Lessons on Love are delectable ways to introduce or reinforce these lessons in charity and virtue.

future foodies

My lads might be selective in their food choices, but they sure can speak about them articulately:

The elder lad, when asked if he wanted some veggie chips in his lunch for school like he'd had at dinner the previous night: "No. They're too zesty for school."
 
The younger lad, enjoying some homemade jam made with love by one of my beloved's aunts and her family on his biscuit, described it as "very tasty."  When I told him who had made it, he said "that was very kind of her to share it with me."

Indeed.  Maybe someday they'll be posting such keen observations alongside their auntie and mama.

As for the lass, she might prove to be the next Nigella Lawson (whose lexicon and wit I admire very much).  My girl's healthy appetite is quite varied, and I suspect her burgeoning vocabulary (presently consisting of a few signs and an impressive array of vocalizations and facial expressions) might rival that of Nigella's someday.