Maybe I Should Just Recycle Those Cardboard Tubes

As a follow-up to that last post....

The next day, while I was rushing around getting ready for work, Quynh took it upon herself to keep busy making some more art, like she does nearly every day. We pretty much always have tape, glue, kid scissors, construction paper, and markers strewn all over the "art table" in the playroom because they are in constant use.

I ran out to the garage to throw purse, lunch bag, and coffee mug into the car and, when I returned to the house to start yelling at  suggesting to the kids that they put their shoes and jackets on, Quynh was wailing and bleeding.

She had apparently decided to use her kid scissors to poke holes in cardboard tubes the way her excellent role model of a mother had done with adult scissors the day before.  And it didn't go well.

She's fine, of course, and it only took 15 minutes of me:
begging
pleading
cajoling
(pausing to tell Tai to get ready or he'd miss the bus)
empathizing
arguing
(pausing again to send Tai running down the street alongside the moving school bus)
bargaining
reassuring
and finally bribing  (remember this for next time -- skip all that other stuff and start promising candy right away)
for her to let me put a band-aid on it.

The worst part is I can't find a way to blame this on Minh or anyone else.  I set the bad example and then left the scissors and cardboard tubes within reach.  I practically dared her to try it.

 

 

Fun with TP tubes

For the past several weeks we have been saving every empty toilet paper tube for some unspecified future art project. So this weekend I used one to make this:

Of course I did it under the guise of "doing and art project with Quynh," but she and I were not exactly working together. It was more like she was asking me to draw with her and I was way too focused on my mobile to be bothered. Sometimes I get carried away.

Then Tai joined us, saw what I was working on, and started scolding me, "MAMA!!!  Those tubes are for KID art projects!!!"

Whoops.

Luckily we had seven of them. Three for each kid and one for me.  I don't think it's too much to ask that I get ONE, is it? 

Even though the tubes had been piling up for weeks and no one was using them for anything, seeing me make use of one suddenly inspired both Tai and Quynh to create something with the others. (Or maybe they just figured they had better use them before I took them all). 

Quynh's Mobiles:

Tai's sculpture:

 

Another Genius Moment in Parenting

I am patting myself on the back here for my cunning use of psychology / child development / sheer awesomeness.

Let me back up.  We have a "breakfast bar" with two stools.  Identical stools.  Side by side.  The kids eat breakfast there every day and for some reason when we moved into this house it did not occur to us to assign seats at the bar (the way we did at the dining room table).

So every now and then they'd switch seats.  No big deal.  No one seemed to care.  For a while.

Then one day one of them declared the seat on the right their "favorite seat" and requested to sit in it from that day forward until the end of time.  I'm sure (if you have been paying attention to past events) I don't need to explain that this only caused the other child to also decide the stool on the right was the favorite.

What to do?  I couldn't just give it to the first kid who asked for it.  And I couldn't give it to the other.  We had clearly missed the window of opportunity for parents to assign breakfast seats--there was no way to assign them now without favoring one child and angering the other.  I tried to start a system of alternating who sat in Favorite Seat, but it was hard to remember whose turn it was.

So, in my infinite wisdom, I decide to capitalize on their other regular morning argument -- who gets to select the music we listen to at breakfast.  While trying to hide my own pride in my Genius Plan, I declared to my children that each day one child could sit in Favorite Seat and the other child could choose the morning music.  They immediately agreed.  And it worked!

For about a week.

Yes, for one glorious week there was no arguing over the chair or the music.  They decided for themselves who would sit where each day.  Some days Tai would happily sit in Favorite Chair and put up with the Tangled Soundtrack, while other days Quynh would enjoy her perch in the Best Seat while begrudgingly listening to the Star Wars Pandora Station.
 
Until they decided that choosing the music was way more important than where they sat.  So now they argue over the Other Chair.  FML.

Declarative Statements

In addition to the seemingly endless questions she asks, Quynh also tends to make sweeping declarative statements that err on the side of hyperbole. Some recent examples that amused me:

After walking about 20 yards......
"I can't walk any MORE!  My legs are out of batteries."


When fighting with her brother over music selections in the car.....
"I ONLY listen to soundtracks!"


After tasting salsa for the first time, and loving it.....
"I am eating All The Salsa in your house!"

My Little Pacifist

This morning I told the kids to put on their shoes while I ran a few things out to the car.  I returned about 90 seconds later to a high-pitched commotion around the shoe shelf.  They were both pointing at a pair of my shoes and Quynh yelled, "Mama there is a tarantula climbing on your shoe!"

Actually, it was a tiny spider.  Well, tiny compared to a tarantula.  But big for a House Spider, I guess. It was probably the size of a dime.  Anyway, I know how to handle this type of situation.  I very calmly grabbed about 8 tissues (you know, because you need a very thick barrier of tissues between your hand the and spider) and I reached out to grab him (and then flush him, of course).

But Tai stopped me.  "Mama, no." he said softly, with his hand firmly on my wrist.

"Oh great, he doesn't want me to kill it." I thought.  Now what?  I briefly considered attempting to capture him and release him outside, but that seemed unlikely to work.  And I really didn't like the thought of me walking to the door with a live spider that might run right up my arm and down my shirt.

"So, what should I do with it?" I asked.  "Just leave it," he instructed me.

And it was indeed time for me to get Quynh into the car and off to school.  So I left it.  I simply left a spider crawling around on the shelf where we keep all our shoes.  Now it might be in my shoes -- making a nest!  laying eggs!

I may have to throw out all my shoes.

Who? What? Where? When? ... WHY?

Quynh has entered the phase of needing to know EVERYTHING.  Right now.  And, adorably, she still thinks I have all the answers.

Who is that? What is their name?

What are they doing? WHY?

Why is it dark?

Why is it night?

Is it dark at Target?

Is that a house? Who lives there?

Why does Santa only come at Christmas?

When is Christmas?

Why are there so many Decembers?

How do cats and dogs fall asleep?

Are shadows monsters?

Why do you throw up when you are sick?

Where is my blood moving in my body?

Tai, on the other hand, has figured out that I am not a bottomless pit of scientific knowledge.  He still asks tons of questions, but he usually prefaces them with, "You probably don't know this, but...."

Miss Independent

This morning in the car on the way to preschool Quynh announced (apropos of nothing), "Some day I want to live not with you.  And get a different car.  A blue one."

At age 3, she is already planning her eventual flight from The Nest.

This is in stark contrast to her brother who practically tears up at any vague mention that he might, someday in the very distant future, perhaps want to live on his own.

Guess What We Watched?

Quynh: "R.O.U.S.s don't come in our woods.  And they won't bite my shoulder because I have pajamas on  and that won't taste good."

Tai (predictably): "My name is Inigo Montoya.  You killed my father.  Prepare to die."

Quynh: "There are a lot of hes in this movie."  (That's her noticing and pointing out the imbalance of male and female characters.  My little feminist).

Quynh (when Columbo threatened to stop reading to Kevin Arnold and closed the book): "Will the movie keep going if they stop reading???"

This morning at breakfast Tai pretended to have 6 fingers and also explained to me that the shrieking eels grow louder when they are about to eat someone.  And when he arrived at preschool he immediately started telling everyone (in detail) about the movie.  When my kid watches something the whole school benefits (suffers?).  


So was it age-appropriate?  Quynh was a bit concerned a few times so we had to sit with her.  And we had to fast forward through the scenes involving The Machine (when we noticed Tai had buried his head between couch cushions we decided that was best).  But other than that, they both really enjoyed it and are already asking to watch it again.

Stop and Smell the (Tiny) Flowers

Yesterday Quynh and I went for a bike ride around the neighborhood.  (Well, she was on her trike and I walked beside her.)  It was her idea.  When we arrived home from work/camp/school she immediately asked if we could, "go for a bike ride around the circle and then pick flowers."  It sounded lovely to me, so we did.  The boys stayed home.

She had a very clear idea of where she wanted to go and we set off in that direction.  As we were biking around the edge of the grassy circle that looks like it belongs on a cul-de-sac but is actually just a rotary of sorts, I asked her what flowers she wanted to pick.  I began eyeing everyone's beautiful yards full of Tiger Lilys and Black-Eyed Susans and wondering how I was going to explain to her that we could not pick flowers out of people's gardens.   But to my surprise she announced, "the flowers in the circle."

I was surprised because there weren't any flowers in the circle.  The circle is a large patch of grass with three big trees.  Not a flower in sight.  And it looked freshly mown so any dandelions or other flowering weeds would surely have been recently beheaded.  Nevertheless, we parked the trike, removed her helmet, and began walking across the grass.  In my typical fashion of rushing through life, always thinking about what's next, and not enjoying the details of the moment, I said, "There are no flowers here."  


But I was wrong.  


She whispered, "Mama if you look real gentle [sic] you will find tiny flowers."  So I got down to her level and let her show me.  We found several little white clover flowers and an abundance of tiny purple blooms.  We picked them together for a while and then played hide-n-seek / peekaboo around one of the big trees.

Later we discovered a sidewalk littered with acorns and learned that they are tricky to walk on.  She chose two to keep as treasures for herself and brought two back to her brother.  It was a magical outing.

Summer Camp

Tai is half-way through his month of Summer Camp and really enjoying it. Honestly, I didn't expect it to be very different from preschool during the summer. I just thought it would be nice to try getting used to new routines, teachers, and kids, as practice for kindergarten.

But it turns out that, even when you are just 5-and-a-half, summer "camp" is very different from summer preschool.   And it rocks.  Every day he comes home having learned new songs, heard new stories, and made new friends.  And it is so adorable how they are doing All The Camp Things.

Tai seems shockingly grown-up when explaining to me how to play tether ball,  Capture the Flag or what a slip-n-slide is.  And just look at the tie-dye shirt he made!

And this is the gimp bracelet he made for his sister.  I had completely forgotten that gimp existed until he came home with this treasure, but then it all came flooding back.  I used to love making this type of thing.  I am half-expecting a macrame potholder this week.

Perhaps Tai's favorite thing about this "big kid" adventure is that at the end of the day he is already lined up waiting for me, lunch bag in hand.  I simply drive up and a teacher escorts him to the car and he jumps in.  The first few days I was arriving a little early and going in to the classroom to help him gather up his stuff. But eventually he asked, "Mama, don't park the car and walk over-- just drive up and I'll get in."  We only made 5 1/2 years before I embarrassed my son in front of his peers. 

Pool Ownership

The pool has been open for a few weeks now.  We've had several friends and neighbors over to swim, and also had our first hot & sunny weekend all to ourselves at home.  Accordingly, I am learning lots of things about owning a pool:

1.  On weekends, I should not bother getting dressed in regular clothes because the kids will insist on swimming shortly after breakfast.

2. Accordingly, there is no such thing as "playing in the backyard" anymore.  As soon as we step outside they start asking to swim.  Even at 9am.  Even if it's only 75 degrees out.

3. If I heed my own advice and keep my suit on all day, it must be a two-piece.  Using the bathroom in a (damp) one-piece and a sundress is no fun.  

4.  You can never own too many swimsuits.  Selecting a fresh one out of the drawer is 10 million times better than attempting to put a cold wet one back on your body.

5. Speaking of swimsuits, there is absolutely no room for body image issues with pool ownership. Friends-Neighbors-Relatives-Coworkers will come over to us the pool.  You will swim with them.   There is no option of worrying about what you look like in a suit. And no one cares anyway.  It's fantastic, actually.

6.  One side effect of never knowing when friends might want to come by and swim is that I've been better than ever before at keeping my legs cleanly shaven.  The other side effect is that I've been keeping the bathrooms clean.  Folks who come over to swim always want to use the bathroom as well.  So, yes, the pool is essentially forcing me to clean the bathrooms and shave my legs.  These are not bad things.


7.  Although the bathrooms are unprecedentedly clean, the rug by the back door is destined to be damp and grassy all summer long.  I have pretty much come to terms with that, but Quynh refuses to walk on it.  She literally asks to be carried over, "the dirty red rug" and into the bathroom so that her feet don't get dirty.


8.  Pool ownership is work.  Even though 119 people told me that as we were preparing to buy this house, I still feel the need to state it here.  That said, the novelty has not worn off yet and I kind of enjoy skimming and vacuuming the pool, as long as I don't have to learn about the chemical balancing part of the job.  That's Minh's thing.

9. I still love to swim as much as I did when I was a kid.


10. I can still do a cartwheel off the diving board.

11.  My kids love to swim as much as I did when I was a kid.  But while both kids are always excited to get in the water, Tai's lips turn blue after about 15 minutes and he stands there shivering asking to go inside and get changed.  Quynh, on the other hand, is already famous for batting her wet eyelashes and asking, "Just one more quick dip, daddy?" and then the two of them swim for 30 more minutes.


12. When Tai says his pool towel, "smells like cheese" it's time to do some laundry.

13.  We spend so much time out in the backyard I might actually get a tan this summer.  Do not underestimate the gravity of this statement.

14.  Swimming with a child who cannot yet stand in the shallow end is exhausting.  Although I love playing with both kids in the water and carrying Quynh to and fro across the shallow end, I am very much looking forward to the day she can stand on her own feet in the pool.

15.  We are a family of fish.

Outing From Hell

Today I needed to kill exactly one hour between school pick-up and Kung fu class. Today it also happened to be 98 degrees out, so having a nice little picnic snack was not an option. And running home to dip in the pool was also not an option because none of us would want to cut swim time short to go to Kung fu.

So I came up with this Brilliant Plan. I would take the kids to the newly opened frozen yogurt place downtown for a frosty treat. We would sit in the air conditioning, enjoy a snack, and relax until it was time to drive the 15 minutes to Kung fu.

Oh, but then I worried that this plan was so brilliant that surely everyone with a child would make the same plan for an after school frozen treat. So I even made TWO backup plans. First I identified a restaurant near the yogurt shop that had fruit smoothies. And then I always had the public library in my back pocket as well--thanks to a clever coworker for that idea. True, the library does not serve treats, but it has AC, and the kids love it, and it's free!

The kids were aware of plans A and B, but I made no mention of the library idea. Still, as we pulled into a parking spot downtown, Tai asked, "How come we NEVER go to book stores or libraries anymore EVER?". (For the record, it has been about 2 weeks since our last library visit.) I brushed off his criticism of my choice of activity and we proceeded with Plan A. Bookworm that he is, Tai asked to bring his new Superman book into the yogurt shop to read. I said yes. This will be important later in the story.

Much to my delight the yogurt shop did not have a line out the door and even 4 of the 5 tables were empty.  "Ha Ha! I must be the only genius in town!" Not really.

Upon entering the shop I immediately noticed (and could not stop from exclaiming loudly) "Oh, there's no air conditioning!!!" Of course the employees heard me and one of them sheepishly explained that it was in fact on (so why was the front door propped open?) while the other employee launched into a much-too-detailed explanation of why they only had three (crappy) flavors to offer today.

Given the limited choices, Tai and Quynh both opted for vanilla. True to form, at the self-serve toppings bar Tai chose fruit and Quynh wanted gummy bears. When I asked Tai what he wanted on his yogurt and showed him the numerous options he pointed to the maraschino cherries and said, "a cherry!". When I asked what else he wanted, my sometimes-greedy and relatively-spoiled child said, "I can have MORE?? Can I have THREE cherries?". In the end I convinced him it would be OK to have several cherries and a few raspberries too. He was delighted.

After sitting there for 15 minutes, sweat literally running down my face and other body parts, we were all ready to get the hell out of there. And it was not nearly time for Kung fu. We all agreed that we needed AC for the next 20 minutes, badly. The library idea crossed my mind right as Tai said, "I bet there is air conditioning in a book store or library." Smart kid. The library is free, but it was a bit further away, and in the opposite direction from the car. But there was a book store right across from the car. Perfect!

The book store was Icy Cold. We sat on the floor and read various books. It crossed my mind to leave without buying anything. But I was soaking up their AC. And my kids do love books. It's not like I was spoiling them with candy or anything. So I said we could get something but they better hurry up and choose, it was time to head to Kung fu. After a lame attempt at negotiation, I ended up buying them EACH a book simply because I did not have the TIME for them to settle on one they both wanted. Let me just say that the 20 minutes of AC cost $1.80 per minute. This put me in a foul mood. Also, we were already running late for Kung fu.

So, Quynh in arms, back into the heat we went, across the street, to the car, rushing, rushing, rushing for Kung fu. We got to the blazing hot car and started to get in when Tai calls out in a panic...(can you guess?) ..."Where is my superman book???"

F$&K!!!!!

I didn't really say that out loud to my kid, but I thought it. "I don't know--Where did you LEAVE it?" and then, "OK, let's go back for it," is what I said in a clearly exasperated voice, along with a mini-lecture about taking responsibility and if we had made it all the way to Kung fu before he realized I would NOT have gone back.

Tai was sure the last place he saw it was the yogurt shop, so back we went and they had indeed put it behind the counter for us. Tai was visibly relieved.

In the end, we made it to Kung fu 15 minutes late for a 45 minute class. I remained grouchy pretty much all the way until we made it home and right into the pool.

Preschool Graduation

Today was Tai's "preschool graduation".  They don't call it that, but that's essentially what it is.  Thankfully there were no caps and gowns--but the kids got to wear crowns.  And who doesn't love to wear a glittery crown?  Honestly, I am so thankful for Tai's crown because it helped distract folks from his goofy bangs.  Here's what happened:

Last night I noticed that Tai was due for a haircut.  But I know (as everyone does) that you never get a haircut the day before a big event because it always takes a few days for the new haircut to look right.  For some reason I disregarded this age-old wisdom and got out the clippers anyway.  For just a trim.

But while Tai was sitting half-nude on a stool in the living room, watching WonderPets, I got carried away with the scissors.  I thought it looked fine when I was done, but after he showered and dried off I realized that I had transformed him into a spitting image of Jim Carrey's character from Dumb and Dumber.  Whoops.

Of all the times to get carried away with the haircut -- the day before the Most Important Day of Tai's Life!*  So this morning I did what I could to make it better.  After dressing him in a nice, new shirt with a collar (and throwing a spare one in my car in case he were to get dirty during the day, the way preschoolers are meant to do) I wet a comb and combed his hair while he ate his breakfast.  This is actually not unusual.  He frequently wakes with a bit of a rat's nest in the back and the only time he'll let me comb it down is when he's busy eating.

The unusual part is that I surreptitiously applied a little hair product to his bangs in an effort to get them to sweep to the side and stay there.  Yes, I dipped into my (expensive) Defining Whip and used it on my five year old son.  This is my confession.



* Not really at all.  But you get a sense of how I unwittingly became swept up in this whole preschool graduation thing.

Three.

Quynh starts sentences with, "Actually..."

Quynh tells jokes that aren't funny.

Quynh sings songs.

Quynh cackles when you tickle her and begs you to stop.  Then she calms down and says, "Again!!"

Quynh is learning her letters and her numbers.

Quynh will climb anything that looks climbable and hang from anything she can find.

Quynh likes to do puzzles.

Quynh cheats at rock-paper-scissors.

Quynh is terrible at playing 20 Questions.

Quynh takes good care of her (five!) baby dolls.

Quynh is fully potty trained.

Quynh sometimes sleeps naked.

Quynh dresses herself.  Sometimes 3 times a day--she enjoys costume changes.

Quynh has a difficult time making decisions.

Quynh has a voracious appetite......for sweets.

Quynh orders for herself in restaurants.

Quynh's favorite shows are Go Diego Go and Ni Hao Kai Lan -- because she likes to yell at the TV.

Quynh loves music and frequently initiates Kitchen Dance Parties -- especially if she's wearing a good twirling dress.

Quynh feeds the dog.

Quynh likes to help pack lunches and make dinner.

Quynh can be opinionated and feisty.

Quynh is imaginative and loves to play, "Going to California" with her brother, in her closet.  She also plays "Going to the Beach" and "Going to School".  She's always going somewhere.

Quynh loves art projects and frequently wanders into the playroom and helps her self to paper, scissors, glue, etc.

Quynh is beautiful.

Quynh is kind.

Quynh is brave.

Quynh is three.

Economics Lesson in the Toy Aisle

It's important to me to raise thoughtful, generous kids.  This is why I take Tai to the toy aisle at Target and let him choose birthday gifts for his friends whenever he's been invited to a party.  I do this to teach him about giving.  I do this despite the fact that it is hell for me.

He actually did really well the first couple times, when his task was to spend far too long drooling over all the really cool toys that he'd like to have for himself and then choose one to give a (boy) friend.

But last weekend he did.....um....less well choosing a birthday gift for Quynh.  Maybe because it is his sister?  Maybe because she is a girl?  I'm not sure why, but despite me being very clear about the plan he started asking me to buy HIM something just as we approached the toy aisle.  I stopped short of entering the Dreaded Toy Section of Target and said very clearly that we were there to get something for Quynh and that's it.

Upon entering the Toy Section, he immediately needed clarification over the money situation, so he asked, "Am I buying this with MY money?  Or are you?"  I assured him that all he had to do was choose the gift and I'd buy it.  I did not give him a particular price point to work with, but he generally senses that the items in huge boxes on the bottom shelf are way too expensive. He tends to point at them and declare, "I know we're not getting that!"

So we started to browse and he started turning down all my suggestions.  The doll's bed, the mermaid tub toy, the Dora sprinkler, the My Little Pony -- none of them were what he wanted to buy her.  "Mama, I'm NOT getting her THAT!"  was heard by shoppers several aisles away a few times.

Then he got distracted.

"Tai, I don't think she wants a Star Wars Lego set...."
"Tai, we're not getting her a leap pad video game system...."
"Tai I know that YOU want X, Y, Z, but you need to focus and find something for Quynh..."

After a few more whines of the, "But can't we get this for ME?" nature, he got really smart and came out with this one: "If I get something for Quynh that just costs a little money, can I use the left-over money to get something for myself?"

Genius.  Pure genius--I was totally impressed.  And pissed off.  What kind of attitude is that?  Can't you just see him picturing himself coming home with a $1.99 plastic piece of crap for Quynh and a $20 Avengers Action Figure for himself?   I held my ground and said that no matter the price of the gift he selected for Quynh we were not buying anything for him.

The good news is he pulled it together just short of me throwing a My Little Pony into the cart and carrying him kicking and screaming to the checkout.  He zeroed in on a gender-neutral, age-appropriate toy that I really do think Quynh will enjoy playing with (and Tai will too, which seems to have been his criteria all along).

Self Sufficient

Tai and Quynh are different in so many ways, one of which being their willingness to do things for themselves.  I don't know whether it's due to their age, birth order, sex, or just personality, but they differ dramatically on the self-motivation scale.

Quynh is full-on in the "I do it myself!" phase, which can be both adorable and frustrating (like her insistence that she apply her own sunscreen this morning at a painfully slow pace).  Tai, on the other hand, follows the "Why do it myself when someone else will do it for me?" philosophy.  Don't get me wrong, he actually does do lots of things on his own (get dressed, brush his teeth, etc).   But he does seem to be much less excited by the idea of self-sufficiency than his sister.  Actually, looking back I think he had this attitude even as a toddler.  Anyway, last night Quynh reached a new level in self sufficiency that I didn't even know about until this morning.

Having recently mastered the overnight potty training thing, she was pleased as punch to go to bed buck naked last night (as her brother does every night -- I guess they are not that different).  Yet this morning she emerged from her room and had to take off underpants before using the potty.  Huh?

Apparently at some point between tuck-in and wake-up (which she calls, "the middle of the night" but for all I know it was 6am) she woke up and decided she needed bum cream.  But she didn't need any help.

As far as I can tell she acquired the cream (from the top of her dresser, by balancing on tip-toe on the foot-board of her bed), un-capped the tube of cream, applied it liberally to the relevant area of her body, re-capped the tube, replaced it on her dresser, and then (wisely) took a pair of underpants from her drawer and put them on before climbing back under the covers.

Sometimes it's like she doesn't even need parents.

Early Literacy

Recently Tai and some of his classmates have taken an interest in writing letters and spelling words.  The children have been approaching the teachers for help spelling words that are of particular interest to them.  The teacher writes the word on a scrap of paper for the child to then copy in their own hand.

Apparently the teachers really are leaving it to the children to decide which words they would like to practice writing because yesterday Tai came home with a piece of paper that simply said:

AUSTRALOPITHECUS
HOT WHEELS

Boy's Night Out

The other night Minh took Tai out to a concert of classical soloists (think violins, harps, flutes, soprano singers, etc).  We know one of the violinists, and Tai is really into classical music so it seemed like the perfect outing. 

At dinner we managed Quynh's disappointment in not being able to go by explaining that it was late at night -- too late for toddlers. 

We also tried to preempt any misbehavior from Tai by explaining that it was actually a grown-up event and he might be the only kid there, so he'd need to act all grown-up.  Minh suggested he even put on some nice grown-up clothes for the occasion.

Tai *loved* that idea and dashed off to his room to put on the jeans he never wears (which are very grown-up because they have a zipper and a snap)  and his only button-down shirt.  He even insisted on a tank top under the shirt and boxer briefs so he'd look, "just like Daddy."   

After he was dressed, he had abut 15 minutes of time to kill in the playroom before leaving.  During that time I overheard this conversation between Tai and his sister:


Q: Tai, why do you have a Big Grown-Up Shirt on?
T: Because that lets everybody know I am old enough to go to the concert.
Q: Are you going to see everybody there, with the same shirt?
T: Yes.
Q: They might have different shirts.....

He wore the outfit for only a few hours, so he decided to re-use it the next day at school.  Apparently it was quite the conversation starter, and Tai even shared at Morning Meeting all about his outfit and the concert he attended. 

Bathing is Boring

The other day one of Tai's teachers showed the preschool class a video of a newborn baby being bathed.  When the video ended Tai informed her that he would be, "much more interested in seeing a baby actually being born."

Maybe he should have spent less time watching the cottontop tamarinds at the Museum of Science, and more time with his sister.

Conversation Skills

My children know how to talk, but not how to converse with another person.  Their vast vocabularies are used only for rambling monologues, peppered throughout with, "Mama, Mama, Mama?" to make sure I am 100% following along.

Often (especially at the dinner table or in the car) we get two concurrent monologues, one from each child.  When this happens, I interrupt them and tell them to stop interrupting each other.  Minh puts in ear plugs.  Frequently Quynh starts in with a soft-spoken tale of her day at school or the menu at her imaginary restaurant and then Tai (completely oblivious to the fact that his sister is speaking) starts in at more-than-full-volume about the latest antics of his friends at school.  Inevitably, Quynh pouts and announces, "Hey, I was telling a story and you ruined it!"

Other times they use their verbal skills to ask questions.  Great.  I love questions.  I encourage questions as the best way to learn things.  But they frequently ask questions to which they already know the answer.  Over and over again.  Or they ask a question and then while Minh or I are answering it they talk (loudly) over us.  And then when we are finished with our (no doubt brilliant the thoroughly informative) answer, they say "What?"

So I began wondering how to solve this issue, both for my own sanity and so that they can learn the valuable skill of self control.  Presumably, someday they are going to need to carry on a give-and-take conversation.  So I tried an idea I that read in a book and printed up a clip-art picture of a mouth and one of an ear and put them on the dinner table.  The kids were intrigued.  Minh looked on with skepticism.

The point is supposed to be that the child holding the picture of the mouth has the floor, so to speak.  And the other child holds the picture of the ear, to remind them that they are the listener and it is not their turn to talk.  And then they are supposed to trade back and forth and we are supposed to have a peaceful, enjoyable, lively dinner conversation.  

So how'd that go?  We ended up with Tai crawling across the dinner table to grab the mouth picture out of Quynh's little fist so he could talk.  Awesome.

I think maybe I just need to get me some earplugs.