Me too!

Me too! I'll help!
Like magic, Daddy can mix
two loaves of bread without
even giving his hands dirty.

Poor Elise. The lost, ignored, neglected second child. The mere shadow of her big sister. Not so! The "me too" epidemic has set in: Elise will be included in everything Kalina does, or explode in her enthusiastic endeavors to do so. It's really cute.

"We went fishing the other day," I'll mention to a friend. "Me too!!!" insists Elise. Holding up one figure, she tells us that she touched the fish, and then cries a little and points out the door to let us know that Daddy was along too, but has since disappeared (assuming Daddy's at work at the time).

 Kalina's kittens are packing a suitcase to go on vacation. "Me too!!!" insists Elise, barreling over to me. Don't worry, Sweetie, we won't leave you behind when we take our family trip!

Other times, when we happen to be talking about trikes or painting or playgrounds, Elise will drop everything to come charging into the room and let us know, through various exclamations and vigorous pats on her own tummy, that she has been/will be participating.

Me too! I want to sit on a frog, too!

Sometimes, we see this simply in the form of copycatting. Kalina is twirling around the room with a stuffed animal on her head, and Elise dives for her stuffed bear to do the same. Kalina is coloring with markers, so Elise grabs her own piece of paper, and expertly uncaps a marker to join in. Or less desirable, Kalina is patiently and effectively teaching Elise to climb up the stairs on the wrong side of the railing, so Elise readily learns, much to Mommy's dismay, which probably sounded too much like this: "Oops. Kalina, wow, what a great job of teaching you did! Um, Elise probably shouldn't do that, it's really not safe. Let's all go play with blocks."

Kalina brave enough to ride
her coveted puffin, which
goes up and down!

Kalina more often than not seems proud of her mini-entourage, and is happy to include Elise among Lamby and Dolphin and the farm animals. Or at other times, she's blessedly oblivious. They've worked out an arrangement, it seems, in that Kalina is willing to play with Elise, as long as they do mostly what Kalina wants to and Elise follows orders. Elise seems willing to follow orders as long as she can be included in her big sister's amazing adventures (usually involving kittens, and sometimes flying). 

Me too! I'll ride the carousel!

I know that this means Elise is getting more independent and more aware of her world all the time. And, in fact, maybe I can use this to my advantage when it comes to potty training. But it does get difficult to continually break the news to Elise that she won't be going to preschool for at least another year (and besides, she'd still freak out when I left), she hasn't yet developed her sister's skill and self control that would enable her to open all the pots of paint at the same time, and she definitely may not be allowed to run loose in the grocery store yet, no matter how much she promises she'll walk nicely and helpfully like Kalina does.

Fortunately, Kalina understands at greater than her 3 1/2-year-old level, when she's well-rested, at least, that some activities are for doing during Elise's naptime, only. She's happy to help me distract Elise ("Bubbles! Goose! Duck!" she calls out--three of the littler girl's favorite things), and patiently endures the recent development of the tantrum.

Still wearing the Easter hat.
We're always the talk of the
playground in this one.

And Elise's skills and intellect are advanced enough that she really can keep up with Kalina, as long as they're not holding a footrace or an oratory competition. Now if I could only keep up with the two of them!

Easter! Eggs! Excellent.

If you ask Elise what Easter's all about, she'll drag you over to our much acclaimed tray of plastic eggs, point emphatically and tell you, "Eesh! Eesh!" Then she'll point outside, stabbing at the air to represent a variety of different hiding places, and finally she'll point to her feet to indicate her need for shoes in order to be prepared to go find these treasures. If you allow this act to continue, you'll soon find yourself outside with an enthusiastic toddler and a tray full of plastic eggs, trekking all over the yard. This, apparently, is Easter.

If you ask Kalina, she'll probably explain how one kitten is helping another put on an Easter dress, while a third is sitting quietly in church and a fourth is dying Easter eggs for a fifth to play with. Or something. But she does know the rest of the story. Breaking it to her was hard, and she almost cried when she learned that Jesus died, and didn't quite see how being raised back to life solved the world's problems, but she'll process it over time in her own way. In fact, her gray stuffed kitten died recently, but I'm happy to report it came back to life shortly thereafter.

But no matter which girl you ask, you'll be assured that Easter was wonderful--whether in Elise's wide-eyed, emphatic enthusiasm that needs no words to communicate its depth, or in Kalina's stream of play-by-play detailing how her animals celebrated the season.

The three techniques in action.

Chocolate bunnies aside, the holiday was made much more exciting by the arrival of Grandpa, Uncle Tom and Angela, whose birthday we also celebrated (not to mention the fact that Grandpa closed on a house here this week--celebrations all around!).

On Saturday morning, we dyed Easter eggs. Elise, Kalina and Uncle Tom were the eager workers, and each had their own particular style.

Elise, who had never seen such a thing but thought it sounded just great. She eagerly adopted the idea, grabbed one egg after the other, dropping and cracking them on the table (accidentally) before placing them into a cup of dye. She worked quickly and intently, and probably would've kept going all morning if only we'd had enough eggs. But none of this without eating one first. The final product wasn't nearly as interesting to Elise as the process, although I have a feeling that will change in future dying episodes.

Kalina, an old pro at this, dyed many beautiful eggs, and cracked hardly any at all, before deciding to create some "fancy" eggs like Uncle Tom. These special eggs of Kalina's are carefully dyed and redyed, from only the most select colors, until they each become their own special shade of brownish-something. Brownish-green, brownish-purple, brownish-orange, you name it. Other fancy eggs would get a scribble from a wax crayon before the dying treatment. The most elaborate/garish were her favorite, and she enjoyed letting her inner artist shine as she confidently decorated each egg to the utmost of its potential.

It's just not as fun if you can't
eat the eggs.

Uncle Tom patiently and artistically dyed three lovely fancy eggs, and cringed visibly every time another of Kalina's beautiful creations was plopped into the mud-green dye cup that used to be sunshine yellow. He later admitted, though, that her techniques had produced some unusually striking eggs. Some of which weren't, actually, as brownish as you'd think, considering they'd made the circuit from teal to orange to purple to pink to red to mud-green and back again. Mommy thought they were quite beautiful, in fact.

The next morning was Easter! Kalina made sure to greet everyone in the house, which was a lot of people, with a delighted, "Happy Easter!" We had not, however, talked much about the Easter Bunny and Easter baskets, so all she knew was that she'd get to wear her special Easter dress to church, and that there would be treats sometime during the day.

In fact, treats started early: Grandpa had a special present for each girl. For Elise, it was a bunny not unlike those in the children's museum that she loves to carry around. It's been tucked under Elise's arm pretty much ever since. For Kalina, it was her own copy of an Easter library book that she'd loved and I accidentally returned too soon. Oops!

We'd chosen the early service (9:00) so that we could get back in time for Easter baskets and dinner before Uncle Tom and Angela had to take off. I forgot: to put the ham in the oven, to change Elise's diaper, and to put the girls in their cute Easter hats (which Elise still likes to wear as often as possible). Two of those were easily remedied by turning the car around in the plenty of time I'd allowed before church, but the hats remained forgotten. Oh well.

Pleased with her conquest:
a peepy chick Elise has
been coveting for months.

Both kids behaved wonderfully at church, thanks to snacks and probably being a bit tired from all the activity. A few family photos later, and we were ready to go in and see if the Easter bunny had, indeed, visited.

Yup! Elise found her basket all too quickly in the shopping cart, and was soon hugging the peepy chick in it. Kalina found hers with a little help (and lots of practice from Hide the Thimble with Grandpa), and dug out a stuffed rabbit ("Can the Easter bunny sew, Mommy?" Um....).

Kalina most likely expected to keep the Easter bunny in a cage, and feed it carrots, and all that (she asked if it was still in our house), but couldn't be disappointed for long after uncovering her basket.

Always focused on animals, of which there were several in the basket, and never having been exposed to much candy, it took a while (and some prodding) for Kalina to discover that the plastic eggs that shake contained candy. She carefully sampled one jelly bean, or chocolate egg, or whatnot, from each one before asking me nicely if she could have another. I let her, of course. You would've, too.

Elise immediately caught on to the fact that the shaky eggs held treats. Distracting her tender eyes from the view of Kalina's delicacies, we helped her open up animal crackers, dried cranberries, and the like, which she devoured without thinking of asking permission. I let her. It was only later that she discovered Kalina's stash, and fortunately the bigger girl wasn't around to see me sneak Elise a tiny robin's egg.

Then, the girls played with their bunnies and a few other treasures, but mostly with the fake grass from their baskets.

Easter dinner! Ham, veggie sides, rolls, a special lemon jello salad! And the girls ate: rolls. But at least they enjoyed them.

Kalina passed this by the first
time around. A chocolate
rabbit!

After naptime/downtime, which lasted a blessedly long time, we welcomed some friends for a big Easter egg hunt in our yard. "Eesh, Eesh!" Elise exclaimed, and then dashed off to get her shoes. Kalina, still suffering the effects of having only eaten a roll for lunch, but refusing any food but candy (which wasn't an option at this point) dragged behind. She perked up, nonetheless, as she expertly dashed around the yard, schooling the two one-year-olds and one two-year-old at finding hidden eggs.

Notice the bunny ears: plastic
bunny loves to ride in the
Easter basket.

Kind-hearted soul that Kalina is, though, she was readily convinced to slow down and help the other girls find eggs. She turned her attention to pointing Elise and Lucy (age 2) within one inch of several hidden eggs, before abandoning the hunt altogether and dashing off toward her coveted swingset swing, to the frustrated dismay of Elise who is always, always the last one to get there and therefore never the first to swing.

Elise and Lucy stuck it out a bit longer, however (the other 1-year-old was still too little), and then we took a few impromptu pictures of the girls. Lucy was the first to figure out that the shaky eggs contained candy, and Elise eventually caught on. Then Kalina did, but by then most of the jelly beans had disappeared. Each girl methodically shook the rest of the eggs, just in case, and we headed inside to play when no more treats were to be found.

Sometimes I feel like a
charging station.

And then once our guests left, the girls fixed themselves dinner, tidied up the family room and headed off to bed with a cheerful wave in our direction. Not really, but somehow we weary adults made it through until we could consider Easter celebrated and traditions passed down for one more year.

Here's hoping every Easter finds us this blessed, by good company and good fun in addition to the good news of Jesus, our living hope.

Sweet spring (and pediatrician visit!)

We had an informal photo shoot!

We recently endured Elise's 18-month pediatrician appointment, but I forgot to bring home her information sheet and it was mostly a normal visit, so after a brief run-down, we'll talk about how much fun it is to have a toddler (and a 3 1/2-year-old) in the springtime.

It's funny how despite the fact that there were no shots at Elise's appointment, because the doctor recognizes that kids start to develop a memory at this age, the child managed to hate it anyway. I don't think there's any getting around the fact that doctors are scary, and nurses are sometimes worse. Kalina will learn this anew at her 4-year-old checkup, where she'll be tested unnecessarily for tuberculosis ("But it's not a shot!" the doctor will insist, to no avail.). *sigh*

Elise's first fishing trip! She got
distracted by the playground and
caught nothing.

Anyway, Elise hated being weighed and measured, hated having her tummy prodded, but didn't mind too much having her heartbeat checked. Everything was fine: she's in the 75th percentile for height, and up to the 25th for weight, which the doctor congratulated me on. Her head circumference is in the 50th.

Despite two blood draws and comments about Elise's glowing health, the doctor wants to extract some more to keep testing her iron. Her levels were low, and hadn't improved into the middle of the normal category, only the lower end of it. Matt's theory: the doctor is seeing her as a pincushion that can pad her wallet. My theory: leukemia. Why are we always at such extremes? Elise is fine.

The doctor was duly astonished that Elise seems to be recognizing some colors, and that she'd invented her own sign language and was pairing words and ideas with it. For instance, every morning at breakfast:

The neighbor girl helped Kalina
strip the bush almost clean of blooms.
Then, Kalina brought them inside
to be my pets. I was required to water
them every day.

Elise points to a finger-painted picture behind her. "Uh!"
Me: Who made that picture?
Elise: "Deh!" (Proudly pointing at herself.) Then she holds up one finger.
Me: With your finger?
Elise: Smiles and nods. Then pats her tray.
Me: Sitting at your high chair?
Elise: More proud smiles and nods.

She's used the same techniques to regale me with stories about riding the trike (with a helmet!) and how much she misses Daddy while he's at work.

In short, Elise is healthy and bright. She's also enjoying spring, as is Kalina, as is Matt, as am I. Here's how:

When you're 18 months old, life is magical. You wave "bye-bye" to merry-go-rounds, garbage cans and delivery trucks. You can make some amazing sounds with your mouth, and jump quite well and are learning to gallop. Your cheeks are delightfully chubby, and you can fit into any shoes on the rug. Add to this the magic of spring, and life has never been better.


The weather has been so glorious lately that the house is a mess and dinner is always late: we never stay in long enough to take care of our mundane tasks. How can we, when there are flowering bushes to strip free of their blooms (thank goodness we left town for a couple days or else the poor thing wouldn't have a chance at pollination), and yards to run across just for the sake of running, and swings to actually swing in.

That's right: both girls swing now, for just about the first time ever. However, there are rules: don't push Kalina more than a fraction of an inch, and don't imagine that Elise would prefer a baby swing to a big-girl version. As Matt figured out without me around one day to disallow him from doing so, Elise sits nicely all by herself in a real swing, even with some mild pushes, even from her big sister as she patiently waits for her own turn. In fact, she loves it. So much that it's a problem we only have one swing. Who would've guessed?


Kalina has joined the ranks of kids who could swing all day, albeit her feet hardly leave the ground. She's learned a fairly effective type of kick-pump, and sings made-up songs about swinging and shadows and rainbows, and usually clutches a kitten or two, and often wears dresses, and once pigtails, and is humanity's zenith of cuteness with the exception, of course, of a certain 18-month-old learning to gallop.

Look! Pigtails! And real
bubbles!

Every time we venture outside, whether to throw out the garbage or head to Target or play, Elise heads for the bubble bucket, hauls it out, and begins blowing. Lots of practice has rendered her only one or two mouthfuls of bubble fluid (every child has to ingest a certain amount before they figure it out), but lots of successful bubbles. We've discovered that they stick around longer on the grass than the pavement, and that they're marvelously fun to pop with the touch of a finger. Kalina has known this a while, but as I couldn't find bubble fluid last fall, this is Elise's first real bubble season.

Elise insists on a hat even for
indoor gardening. And wearing
her sister's shorts over her own.

We've also been gardening, both for real and pretend. As Matt helped the girls plant seeds, water them, and all that (Kalina knows better than I do), I initiated an indoor craft garden effort that was almost as well received. Now, the girls can dig, water and extract flowers and vegetables indoors and out, all of which we do on a regular basis. Both are working on blowing the seeds off dandelions, with Elise using a vigorous wave as her best strategy, and Kalina honing her force and her aim, and the force of her aim.

Easter egg hunting!

Beyond that, we've been enjoying the neighbors and their kids and their yards. We're so fortunate as to have half a dozen girls roughly Kalina's age living within a few stones' throws of our front door--and a couple even next door. She's now old enough to be thrilled with all of her playmates--even if she's not quite caught on to the idea of actually playing together. Springtime has brought everyone out of doors, which means lots of running back and forth between yards (for Kalina, that must means to our next-door neighbor's) and impromptu games of tag. And then I brought out a wagonful of Easter eggs (a week and a half early), and half the neighborhood, it seemed, joined in to hide and hunt. While Elise loves watching the kids (and finding an Easter egg or two of her own) and covets the neighbor's swingset, she hasn't yet joined in the fray. 

The little line on Kalina's hand
is her caterpillar.

And finally, yesterday afternoon we welcomed into the family two new pets: Hungry and Pet the caterpillars. (Actually, these are our second set of caterpillars: the first Hungry and Pet were squished nearly beyond recognition as Kalina toured them around the yard.) She caught them herself, expertly, as her daddy had taught her. But as he was not yet home from work, it fell to met to agree she could keep them, find a jar and help her outfit it with items from their natural environment to help them feel more at home, despite the fact that they will never again escape the lingering smell of spaghetti sauce. It was also my job to locate and sneak two new, live caterpillars into the jar, while attempting to discard the carcasses of the first two, while sending Kalina off to look for "more leaves, we need more leaves."

For the rest of the evening, Kalina paraded her caterpillars around: they joined us at dinner and slept on her nightstand. She held one while Daddy carefully poked holes in the lid, and carried it all around the yard while they enjoyed some pre-bedtime playtime. 

I have no idea what will become of the caterpillars in the next few days and weeks, I can only hope there's a rather endless supply of them near the swingset where we found the first four, as I have a feeling we may need them.

I will admit that I could use a rainy day or two to catch up on housework, errands, and all the rest. But until then, I'll simply enjoy our beautiful spring days with my two beautiful springy girls.