Crafty Naomi

Naomi whipped up
a pumpkin headband.
Pretty sure everyone
7 and under is going
to want one of these!

It's another typical day. An open glue bottle, a tape dispenser and a child-sized pair of purple scissors stand like islands in a lake of papers and drawings. Colored scraps scatter across the floor like leaves in early fall, and the occasional misplaced popsicle stick or pipe cleaner decorates a chair. Naomi is hard at work, creating Pinterest-worthy craft projects and not picking up after herself at all. 

It all takes me back to the moment Naomi discovered her hands. Most babies take weeks to learn that they own a pair of hands, but Naomi found hers on Day 3. She seemed to smile at the same time, which I would attribute to gas, but she sure seemed happy and there's photo evidence to prove it. (See this post: https://odegaardbaby.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-first-week-home.html)

Little Naomi doing her
thing.

I do think there are some things that hold true about a child from the very beginning, and this was one of Naomi's.

Because it didn't take long, relatively, for the baby to begin putting her hands to good use. Sometime in her second year of life, I believe, she perfected her pencil grip (I've seen 8-year-olds with much worse--none of mine, of course). Shortly after, she discovered tape, and we kept Amazon busy mailing us 8-packs to refill our dispenser for about the next 2-3 years. Everything needed tape, and lots of it--why use a little, when a lot is more fun? Besides, when Mommy is busy schooling the big sisters, tape seems like an awesome idea. Around this time she also decided scissors were a good idea, and paint, and soon she was off to the races creating.

But it hasn't been all rainbows and unicorns. Naomi's perfectionistic tendencies often get in the way of perfectly good art. In her dramatic 3s and 4s, upon creating a work she didn't entirely approve of, she'd:
1. Scream, cry, tantrum
2. Rip/crumple offending artwork
3. Shove it under the couch/into the trash as far as she could.

4. Ramp up and/or repeat if I tried to smooth things over.
Now that I look back, it was adorable. In the moment, especially if I had already been mentally planning a display for the artwork, which of course was always good enough for Mommy, not so much.

She still occasionally struggles with perfectionism, but fortunately her skills seem to align fairly well with her expectations most of the time. Unfortunately, the mini-meltdowns that ensue aren't much less explosive than they were a couple years ago, just less frequent. On the plus side, less-than-perfect artwork sometimes ends up in the recycle bin, albeit torn and crumpled. Or she allows me to "set it aside for a bit," and once, notably, hours later even took my suggestion for how to fix a drawing that was too close to the top of the paper for a unicorn horn to fit on the puppy. ("Why don't you just cut out a horn from some other paper and glue it on?") I'll say it again to emphasize the sheer novelty of the moment: she took my suggestion.

This girl couldn't
wait to dive in to
the bag of cotton
balls I brought home
for her!

Whenever I have free time, Naomi asks for a craft project to do. But not just any craft project: "A 3-D craft, Mommy." At which point, I'm expected to just whip out an idea for a charming little critter or object she can make out of the supplies we have on hand. 

Fortunately, she's super resourceful in coming up with ideas of her own accord, making sweet little creations that look like they came from a book. A while back Naomi made paper kites every day. Before that, she made animals out of paper cups and toilet paper tubes.  Nowadays it's pom-pom critters, rubber stamp stories, and stringed musical instruments (that Elise tuned to actually play a song!).

She's often inspired by the materials in front of her. Beyond Scotch tape, her first love, she's been excited by: paper plates, paper cups, popsicle sticks, pom-poms, pipe cleaners, googly eyes, toilet paper tubes, shoeboxes, popsicle sticks, cotton balls, string/cord/yarn, and any drawing materials. 

Naomi crafts on all occasions, but virtually always on the onset of a holiday or new season. She's tuned into the months of the year so she can break out new art inspirations. "Is it fall yet? How many more days?" For fall this year, so far, she's made a leaf pile, complete with a pipe cleaner/popsicle stick rake, a mini garland of leaves for her Calico Critters house, a squirrel in a tree, a couple pumpkins, pom-pom apples and pumpkins, decorations for the house, and many pictures, among other crafts. Most of these have been entirely her own design, but she's also happy to recycle old crafts, such as the cotton-ball igloo she remembered from 2 years ago and remade a few weeks ago. Along with a pom-pom seal to live in it and a cotton-ball iceberg. 

This creates the natural problem of what to do with:

1. The messes, on top of messes, on top of messes. 

2. The actual crafts.

Fortunately, Naomi is pretty decent at cleaning up after herself, when compelled. Naomi: "But Mom, didn't I already clean up this room today?" Me: "But you got everything out again." Naomi: *sigh* "I guess you're right." Nevertheless, even adults become stymied when looking at the table after she's finished a project (or 5). Matt has long since stopped trying to figure it out (I'm pretty sure it'd all end up in the trashcan if I pushed it), and I often have to step in just so the poor girl isn't overcome by her prolific crafting. Like, actually buried by it. 

As far as the actual crafts, Naomi used to count them all by name. "Mommy, remember that little puppy puffy I made a long time ago, and it was blue and pink?" Me: "Um.... kinda?" Naomi: "Where is it?" 😳

The best of Naomi's spring
crafts. Can you count the
bunnies?

So I'd keep them in a box out of the way for a loooong time, just to make sure we were really done playing with them. Because if you spend the time to make a family of puffball animals with coordinating googly eyes, you actually do want to get them out from time to time. The downside is that a reasonably sized box fills up in about a week. During particularly busy times, when I can't sort through the precious projects, a certain closet in the basement has come in reallly handy.

And after that, there's always the camera (see photo). By this time, Naomi really has forgotten, but that doesn't mean I have.... A photo makes parting with the sweetness easier, plus, of course, there's always room to save a few small/flat things.

Naomi has said she wants to consider being an art teacher when she grows up, and I could see that. For now, I'm just delighted to let her decorate the house, Naomi-style.

Happy Trails

Let's just say, for instance, that over breakfast you discovered a long, windy snail slime trail stretching for several feet down the middle of your large kitchen table that mysteriously ended at the (covered) butter dish. The snail is nowhere to be found, and the 8-year-old is insisting that she's down not one, but two precious pet snails. That were apparently left uncovered on the kitchen table all night. Would you:

1. Leave out food as bait (the 8-year-old's suggestion)

2. Dispose of the butter, clean everything, find a lid and a better place for the remaining snails, let the 8-year-old know that everyone is entitled to one occurrence of escaped pets but not really more, and then try to forget that there's a snail or two roaming the house. And not go barefoot. (What I'm doing)

3. Burn down the house. (What I kind of want to do)

4. Ruminate on all the unanswered questions. About parenting, life, and why there weren't two snail trails if two snails are indeed missing, why the lid was left off, why the snails were on the kitchen table in the first place, whether or not snails are actually attracted to butter, and what kind of predator must roam our house at night to have snatched away a snail or two out of thin air. And of course, where are the snail(s) and what will it feel like to step/sit on one/them?!?

Elise loves her snails. We've learned a lot already. Their names are: Biggle (the biggest one), Tiger (one that has a striped shell, except they all do, Billy and Bob (twins) and another few I've lost track of. Some are shyer than others, but their antenna are really cool when they sink into their heads. They like dark places and always climb upwards--to the point that I'm actually pretty amazed there aren't more snails roaming around our house. Yesterday the snails spent large portions of their lives riding around on her finger, being loved.

Meanwhile, Easter is totally Naomi's season. As soon Naomi and pink, furry, sparkly bunny ears crossed paths in Target, they were on her head--to stay (thanks to the allowance she'd saved up). She wears them everywhere. If the conditions become unfavorable to bunny ears--windy, for instance--she simply holds them in her hand until she no longer has to worry about them blowing away. And although she never notices the sidelong looks people give her in public, she readily accepts their comments and compliments with a matter-of-fact "thank you." Yes, I know they're adorable, thanks for noticing.

I hesitated to let her wear her bunny ears to various classes, and piano lessons, and even occasionally ran the idea past her teachers in case they felt like bunny ears might be distracting. Due partly to the fact that Naomi sees them as an extension of herself, rather than an accessory, the bunny ears cause no more ruckus than her regular ears do. And possibly because we homeschool, no one we come across seems to bat an eye at the fact that for several weeks now Naomi makes virtually every public appearance as a bunny. Or maybe they don't care because she's so stinkin' cute in them.

I enjoyed hanging out one-on-one with my little bunny a little bit extra this week as her sisters took standardized tests. It was a good, learning experience for everyone: Kalina learned that next time, she should make sure her ruler has centimeters on it (not really her fault--she just grabbed one!); Elise learned how to jump rope during testing, where a threatened bird species is nesting near the testing site, and good places to find snails; and Naomi learned place value. In one sitting. Well. And she thinks it's fun.

Which boggles my mind: how can a little girl who thinks she's a bunny and that her stuffed bunnies are her sisters breeze past 100 in counting (her goal was 1000, until Elise interrupted her) and laughingly tell me that I would need 10 tens to make 100? In addition to math, we scootered to the park and pretended to run away from dogs, worked on an Easter sticker book, braved glitter, and so much more.

For some reason, I'm not able to write captions today, but all of these photos came from our backyard photo shoot. Elise is posing in some of her favorite places (including the fort!), Naomi alternated normal poses for Mommy with bunny poses, and Kalina's pictures turned out beautiful despite the fact that she's hiding a very skinned knee.

Will you play with me?

Very neat color mixing. Elise
would have had it all the way
up her arms by now.

When the question is asked by a cheery, hopeful three-year-old, looking up at you with big brown eyes, there's only one answer: of course I do! Even if dinner is burning on the stove. Even if she was melting down about the color of her cup earlier in the day. Even if planning one more birthday party for Biscuit might put you over the top. Yes, Naomi, let's play!

And then, off you go. You might do circle time (the bread and butter of preschools) with a group of stuffed animals, asking them each their favorite color. Or create a birthday tea party picnic on the floor. Or draw endless people and animals (usually family members and stuffie family members) until either she's satisfied, or the drawing doesn't live up to her standards and playtime crumbles into a pile of accusations (you didn't draw it right!).

Yes, this is all very elementary, but it's not without its actual amusements (other than spending time with sweet Naomi, of course). For one, it's fun to watch her draw. Not only is her pencil grip beyond reach of many kindergarteners (and has been for years), but she concentrates so heavily, bending nearly double over the paper and taking every stroke seriously. Sometimes too seriously, driving herself to perfection far beyond her 3-year-old capabilities (or Mommy's 30-something capabilities). As frustrating as that is for both of us, it's not without its sweetness, as she then cuts, shreds, scribbles or crumples her paper into oblivion, and then shoves the remains into the trash can or as far back under the couch as she can reach (so, not too far).

Naomi wore the fawn mask
all evening, even at dinner,
pretending to be sisters with
her deer, Annie.

Most of the time, she confidently turns swirls and amorphous shapes into actual figures (something her big sisters didn't do until they were Elise's current age, Kalina preferring me to do all her drawing for her and Elise preferring to see what scribbles looked like on the paper), adding eyes, noses and frowns, as well as bodies and limbs. I'm trying not to read too much into the frown thing. Fortunately, many of those frowns have been turned upside down since I taught her to do smiles--but not all of them. Why???

Of course, there's quite a bit to learn when you play with Naomi. Her posse of stuffed animals usually includes a dog family, a fawn, and a few other random ones. She likes to dress up as Princess Sofia, but it's important to know that Sofia's sister, Amber, is mean. Sometimes she's nice, but she definitely started out mean. For some reason this is of paramount importance and we make reference to it all the time.

Naomi enjoys pretending, so sometimes I get to be an owner while she's a baby puppy or a baby bunny or a baby fawn. Occasionally I'm her mommy and I'm taking her to a pet shop to pick out any pets she wants (this is fun because it's something I actually want to do in real life). Sometimes she's the big sister for her baby doll, and I'm the mommy. Occasionally she's a crying baby who needs to be picked up. And fairly often, she's a princess. Sometimes a little too much of one:

Me: "Oops, Naomi, you knocked that off the table. Once you pick it up, we can keep drawing."
Naomi, very rationally: "But Mommy, I'm a princess, and princesses have servants."

Naturally, I explained to her that princesses still have to do things for themselves, but she wasn't at all convinced until I cited an example or two from her princess books. She complied, but I get the impression that she only did it because Princess Grace did. Even then, she wrestled with the question, in a very logical, and not explosive, state of mind, for the next couple of days.

"Mommy, why do servants cook princesses their dinner?" She's just about got me on that one--the inconsistencies are evident, and it's certainly a slippery slope from cooking dinner for princesses to cleaning up their messes. If Naomi keeps the princess phase going until her teen years, we may be in trouble.

Naomi made a Valentine
decoration!

Of course, Naomi knows that in many princess stories and fairy tales we find mean stepmothers and stepsisters, wolves, foxes and other creatures that mean harm. She always hopes they're only pretend:

"Mommy, are wolves in this world?" she asks, worriedly. "Mommy, are monsters in this world?" "Mommy, are stepmothers in this world?" Um, I hope not for you...

We have a lot of little games we play as well: for instance, I always forget how to turn off the lamp in her room. We try all types of buttons, but only Naomi can find the one that actually works. Or, occasionally I "run out" of Naomi and have to find more of her in the pantry (where she almost fits quite nicely!).

I think our favorite playtime, though, has to be when the big sisters are out at their Friday classes. We gleefully escape home to bake together (with tastes), paint, do special craft projects, ask and answer lots of questions, do lots of circle time and read stories, all on Naomi's terms and uninterrupted. It's during this time when Naomi's personality shines the most: sweet, and yet serious (and a little silly, of course).

Which is why when Naomi asks, "Will you play with me?" the answer just has to be yes!

Two new posts in one day?!? Yes. Don't miss the one about what Elise has been up to, below.

The baby animal stage

Naomi, following directly
after her big sister's footsteps,
holds a "poetry" reading. She
can actually recite significant
chunks of The Poky Little
Puppy and several other not-
easy stories. Yes, the book is
upside-down.

Naomi is getting older, but is she getting bigger? The fact that my tiny girl is still sporting last-year's styles aside, the jury is out, namely because it's hard to set an age for the child. The fact of the matter is, Naomi is solidly in the baby-animal phase of development, which means that, a chronic newborn, any given day she's assuming the identity of a baby polar bear, a baby fish, a baby penguin, a baby meow-meow and much more, and expecting me to know how to parent each of these. Fortunately, having done the baby-animal phase before, I'm totally onto this game. But then again, so is Naomi.

It started with woof-woofs. Naomi's major puppy "phase" (it's only a phase if they ever come out of it, right?) induced her to want to become a puppy, and thanks to her imagination and my apparent adeptness at playing the part of a mommy puppy, she was able to. Her puppy licks at times might be a little too real, but they're no less sweet.

Then she branched into kittens, penguins and sea turtles and shortly after could assume the toddlerish identity of any animal she had ever heard of, although she occasionally mixed up giraffes and zebras (understandable). It's interesting to note that Elise followed a similar pattern: puppies and kittens, penguins and then clownfish, which lasted for about a year.

Naomi can be fairly convincing, if only out of persistence. And I can tell that not only is she learning about important familial relationships (mommy-baby, baby-mommy, sisters-baby, Grandpa-baby, and occasionally even Daddy-baby), but also about the animals themselves.

See, she's almost as proud as
her mommy! She could've
continued all night, fueled
by the enthusiastic cheers
of her family.

The sounds: From miniature to emphatic, Naomi roars, squeaks, woofs, quacks, honks and ribbits to express her emotion as a baby animal. Sometimes she feels teeny-tiny, a mere newborn who can make only a tiny squeak. Sometimes she's a starving polar bear cub that can roar with a fierceness that makes the mommy polar bear forget about the real dinner she was making and jump into action finding some pretend morsel for her cub. Often she's a playful puppy or kitten, or a baby bird calling for its mommy bird. Other times she feels ignored as I'm talking to her sisters, and feels as though increasing her volume will ensure her survival, or at least that of her ego. Roar. Roar. ROAR!!! Silent animals stymie her for a while, but she always finds a way around their muteness. Baby bunnies vocalize their hops, for instance. Baby spiders spin their webs (literally, spin around the room in circles while saying "spin"). Etc. And she's not above making up a sound for the truly soundless, activity-less animals. The baby sloth, for instance, says something like "glurp." Did you not know that?

The sights: Not only does Naomi sound like an animal baby, she also mimics their movements and activities. She hops just like a frog--back legs in between front ones, even though this position looks fairly uncomfortable. She'll walk on all fours, or crawl; she'll flap her wings or curl up into a little ball like a newborn fawn. As a bird, she appreciates a nest as a prop, for added realism. Today she climbed onto a mounded-up brown blanket and declared herself a baby muskrat. Does she know that muskrats live in brown mounds? She really might.

Naomi likes to help me fold
washcloths. She does a
fantastic job, too, and has
branched out to other chores
as well. I think she's the only
person in the family who
likes housework.

The tastes: Naomi seems to instinctively know that all baby animals are after food, and she'll happily-yet-agitatedly baa, chirp, chatter or roar until I grab a handful of air, tell her it's grass or a bug, and put it in front of her mouth. Then she'll sweetly gulp it up, or slurp it if we're being especially silly ("Naomi, you don't slurp grass!" "Yes I do!"). If she's a puppy, she knows to ask for a bone. For unfamiliar animals, she'll cheerfully clarify before asking to be fed (What does a porcupine eat?). Sometimes the answer is, unhelpfully, "porcupine food," which she readily accepts even if she doesn't learn anything by it.

The life cycle: Never mind the fact that Naomi may or may not quite understand that baby frogs are actually tadpoles (and she takes on the identity of a baby frog fairly frequently). She's clearly internalized the fact that birds hatch from eggs and in fact, often takes on the identity of a baby bird that hasn't hatched yet. In this case she walks around in a slightly constricted manner until she proudly announces, "I hatched!" and we all congratulate her as though it actually is her birthday. Then I proactively grab her a handful of air-worms to ward off newborn hunger. I know how it works. Shortly thereafter, she learns to fly, a real-world feat Elise is still earnestly working on (but she found two goose feathers last night, and so feels one step closer--but that's another story).

Blowing her mind: We own a book on animal families, with lots of great photos, that we hadn't looked at in a long time. I pulled it out the other evening, and I'm surprised Naomi got any sleep at all that night. Any given page presented her with multiple pictures of mommy-baby pairs of dolphins, zebras, lions, rhinoceroses, penguins, raccoons and much, much more, with some sisters and daddies around as well. "I'm a baby giraffe, no I'm a baby lamb, no I'm a baby deer, no I'm a baby duckling! I'm this one, no I'm this one." Every turn of the page, Naomi was in baby-animal paradise. If only they were real--except for the big or creepy ones, of course.

Now, Naomi enjoys occasionally becoming specific animals from favorite stories. She's been Biscuit the puppy; Pete the puppy (from a library book); Pal and Penny the puppies (Pete's siblings); and the Poky Little Puppy. She insists, however, that she does not dig holes under fences, and we did, in fact, indulge in some strawberry shortcake not too long ago, just like her namesake almost did. (After all, she really doesn't dig holes under fences--and doesn't that deserve a reward?) Tonight during storytime, she took it another step and acted out the part of the Poky Little Puppy, including sniffing the ground and pretending to sleep.

This cuteness can't last forever, but I'm certain Naomi be up to something just as adorable next. And with any luck, it'll involve some more strawberry shortcake. Or at least a handful of bugs.

Springtime of the Sisterly Soul

Don't tell Elise I'm borrowing
her hat! But how could I not
when it looks so cute on me?
Besides, the baby had one...

The first time you see your young children engaging each other in activities other than grabbing and fighting, it is like the first day that springtime's warm hope peeks in through your windows. The whole house looks cleaner, the air smells clearer and you no longer want to crawl into bed and stay there for months at a time. It's also quieter, without as much crying and for a moment you can hear a bird chirp.

This phenomenon is called play. It is often a social activity. And it is taking its first few breaths between my two youngest as they emerge from their cocoons of "I want what she has!" Deep breath.

Kalina, who calls the shots without knowing she calls the shots, has not minded ceding a healthy amount of her domain to the littlest one (besides, isn't she cute?), but Elise, who often has to resort to whining to get any attention (or so she'd like you to believe) has understandably dug in her heels at any request to share either Mommy or the family room rug ever since Naomi was big enough to scoot herself around and claim some of the territory.

One snowy weekend, we all made a
fairy mermaid placemat, thus anchoring
my spot as "The Best Mommy in
the World" (their words, not mine!)

But despite the shortcoming of being shorter and 1, Naomi, in her sisters' eyes, and especially the eyes of her littler big sister, is magically transitioning from being a near-constant threat to precious toys and a usurper of Mommy's arms and attention to an actual person who can play sea creatures and actually swim the fish around the same way she does.

This is huge, because of how far we've come and what it means. This little development has not come easy: it has taken minor bribery, constant vigilance, and a lot of outright flattery. "Wow, Naomi thinks you're just amazing, and she looks like she loves sea animals as much as you do! Look how she wants to copy everything you do because she thinks you're so great!"

At four, flattery is huge. It also helps when your little sister eases off her biting phase, and can say "purple" pretty well.

Kalina's Great Wall of China,
complete with Emperor
palace and throne. No
forced labor required. (In the
background, check out the
much-adored kids-around-the
world paper dolls she made.)

All of the efforts seem to be working, because Elise only protested a little last time the three of us (minus Kalina, who was off building the Great Wall of China for a raging emperor) played sea creatures a little, and the two littles even manged to continue playing a few minutes in a row after I crept away. Added bonus: it ended in neither happy nor sad screams.

In fact, Elise recently learned not only to skip, but that Naomi might possibly be a viable option as a playmate when Kalina is busy. In theory. It may be a while before she regularly turns to her little sister, although Elise's social nature might require it when she exhausts her other options. I'm working on grouping them together in subtle ways to speed this process along ("Kalina is going to do her math and can't play, but Elise, you have another sister you can play with! Wow, lucky you! Here she is now!"). I'm also contenting myself with peaceful ignoring.

Until a week or so ago, this idea was completely off the table, as Naomi was only good for tickling and being used as a plaything herself ("We can stack things on the baby!"). And I can't entirely blame Elise: Naomi is not innocent of mischief, including putting cherished toys into her mouth, objecting entirely to anyone reading a book that's not of her direct and immediate choosing and occasionally even snatching at toys. (Elise has been known to pull most of these stunts as well, as recently as today.) Bad behavior doesn't earn you friends, so all sisters have had to learn and re-learn the ancient art of Getting Along.

Elise is making a book of art.
If you think that's cool, you
should see her wall of art.

It's also a feat of branding: while Naomi still looks like a baby and often acts like a baby, I am attempting to remember, at least 20% of the time, not to refer to her as "the baby," so that the girls might realize she's a person, too (easier for Kalina, at the top of the pecking order, than Elise). I spend many minutes of every day trying to convince Elise, especially, that:
-She's not trying to get her sea creatures.
-Usually when she picks up her sisters' stuff, it's to bring it to them (true!).
-Even if she didn't, she wouldn't break the stuff because she's big now ("No she's not, she's little! I'm big!" retorts Elise in her biggest voice).
-Even if she did, we would fix it.

Elise is still mostly frantically unconvinced, despite my assurance that she used to be on the other end of the equation at a similar age and stage and came out of it just fine, to develop into the highly mature girl she is today.

Fortunately, Naomi plays her role, as the sweet little silly sister willing to go along with anything, very well. Eager to join in her sister's play, she'll happily mimic whatever goings on look fun and interesting, so long as she isn't super-absorbed in feeding her puppies, that is.

Sledding down the street.
Mush, Daddy!

Like her big sisters, Naomi runs circles on the rug to music (this is a triple favorite, and the bigs are even well-practiced in dodging the giddy gyrations of their toddler sister), flies animals around the house, practices gymnastics and parrots all the weird noises her sisters make, which is a lot. Naomi is quite adept at mimicry, and equally adept at getting smiles and laughter for her best efforts, despite a prejudiced reluctance on one or both sisters' parts. It really is cute, even though I know I'm in store for lots of mischief as they all get older.

Naomi also, by the way, happily mimics me as I sweep, clean, empty trash cans, cook and all the rest of my mommy work. As such, she is much more likely to pitch in and help out than her big sisters, although Kalina can often be convinced to do interesting kitchen work, and Elise will clean windows at a rate of 10 cents a piece (only the bottom half, but that takes us past the drool/handprint line so it works out) as she saves up for--you guessed it--more sea creatures.

And at this moment in time, Naomi is really good at all kinds of play, even toddleresque pretend play, or maybe it's just because she hasn't (yet) been tainted by all their sibling weirdness, the same that haunted my own siblings and I as we developed our own strange sense of humor, and that has forged sibling bonds since the beginning of time.

Sharing Grandpa's lap!

Either way, Naomi is a clean slate that I know will get drawn all over (literally if not figuratively), but that doesn't make too many dumb jokes yet, that doesn't think play = making loud noises and that doesn't invent all kinds of unfathomable and strange rules: "No, you can't move Elise's sea creatures because they have all just been born and are scared of you because you're big--look at how scared of you they are!" or "Mommy, be careful! You can't walk there or you'll fall into the hot lava and get eaten by a shark!" and even more stuff I get wrong all the time that's too weird to remember and changes anyway. The big girls will wreck all that soon enough, but for now, she's sweetly innocent of anything weirder than pretending to feed herself a dog bone.

Not that I don't have a special place in my heart for every single work of my kids' imagination, because I really do. Except for the non-sensical knock-knock jokes; those are awful but I can't find any grounds to put a stop to them, so my best resort is to sic them on each other. "Kalina, aren't you going to answer the door, Elise is knocking!" Then they can both laugh hysterically at terrible jokes and I can pretend I don't hear. (If you think I'm being too hard on the jokes, I'll have one of the girls give you a call...)

Kalina practicing one last
time before her amazing
piano performance at the
annual recital.

At any rate, I can safely say that at least 3 out of 4 of us would vote to keep Naomi, and while the last would prefer to keep her in a closet and pull her out on a whim, I am encouraged by the rays of hope I see that the relationship will thaw over the next season or year or decade or so.

And with real spring around the corner--and its flowers to maim together and puddles to get covered in, the sisterly relationships are sure to only blossom.

Check out that grip! Naomi could craft
all day, and asks for supplies like tape
and glue by name.

Homeschool PE. Lisa (the
cherished stuffed lamb) is
wearing her "snowsuit," and
in the background by the tree
you can see the little snow
slide Kalina made for her.

Elise likes to invent recipes,
such as spaghetti dipped in
honey, and then share them!
This one, called Coral Reefs,
consists of crackers, peanut
butter, marshmallows and, of
course, Goldfish. She is
writing a recipe book.

Elise dressed herself. Also,
she's starting to draw people!
(See the fridge)

Look out family room, here comes Naomi!

Baby seal or baby baby? Would she
be even cuter if covered in a fine layer
of silky fur?

I've known this day would come. I've known, in fact, for more than a year. It's been impossible to deny, as hard as I've tried, that one day we'd have a grabby baby on the loose in our home, wreaking adorable, drooly havoc on anything she manages to approach. That's right, the baby can roll.

Naomi has been able to kind of, or occasionally, roll for at least a month or two, and especially from back to front. At first, the motion surprised her, and not always in a good way as she lands her stomach or back on a hard, plastic toy (think of stepping on Legos--ouch!), or her head flops onto the floor. Once rolling started to happen more often, she learned to kind of duck her head in and smooth the transition so that it wouldn't be quite so uncomfortable to roll from front to back--at least if there are no toys in the way. And then she decided that rolling was okay, and could be a new mode of transportation. Now, Naomi is working on purposeful, goal-oriented rolling. The baby still has not learned to plan her rolls to avoid planting on toys, but I assume that comes next. I don't think she's ever gotten more than about five rolls away from her starting point (although that has gotten her under both her and Elise's beds), but it's enough to cause some big changes around our house.

Goofy girls. Naomi has the best big
sisters ever.

It is a much different situation from last time. For one, Kalina no longer freaks out (in a big way) when another child so much as glances at her stuffed lamb (Lisa, who is now a mother herself---sniff!). The girls love when I tell stories about how Baby Elise briefly look at Lamby, as she was called then, from across the room and Kalina would melt into tears, convinced of her little sister's involvement in a massive conspiracy to kidnap the stuffed animal and keep her for herself. I think only time changed her mind--I sure couldn't. But it's a relief that we don't do that anymore.

In fact, good-natured, generous Elise is so used to having a sister around that she really only seems concerned about her toys entering the baby's mouth, or drool leaking onto them. I know I will never be able to convince her, "it's just cute baby spit," so Naomi will have to learn the rule, "No putting your sister's stuffed animals into your mouth" before she even gains much of a concept about what constitutes a stuffed animal ("Is that the plastic block that fits into the hole? No? Shoot, I've got this all wrong."). But the baby doesn't suffer much at all at the hands of her doting big sisters, so this is a worthy compromise. Besides, she'll have to learn it sometime.

I love baby profiles. I may
have mentioned that before.

The bigger problem is that both of the big girls have firmly moved into the "millions of tiny toys" stage of girlhood, which they happily scatter over the house like raindrops. Aside from driving me slightly crazy, it means that every time Naomi rolls over, there's a new choking hazard.

On my side is the fact that while Naomi can certainly gnaw on a plastic ring for a while, she at least starts with her fingertips. Primed and ready at almost every calm and alert moment she has, her fingers love to touch and study. Our little scientist first tentatively touches an object, then scrapes it with her little fingernails, then pats it if it's big and drum-like, or grabs and manipulates it if it's small and hand-held. Her mouth is always at the ready, but not always in use.

And fortunately, the big girls are hyper-aware of what constitutes a choking hazard (especially if the choking hazard happens to be a prized possession). They're also hyper-aware of whenever the baby is playing with something that's not specifically a baby toy (again, especially if it's a prized possession), but we've had the "We share our toys unless they're put away in your room" discussion and I think they're okay with the arrangement as long as I occasionally let them borrow some of Naomi's shape sorters and rubbery animals and whatnot. Because apparently shape sorters are still fun if you're 3 1/2 or 5 1/2? Maybe it's fun to be an absolute pro at them.

The elusive finger-in-mouth
picture! Naomi loves chewing
on her finger. It's cute. It
comes out every time I pull
out the camera because it
wants to touch the camera.

We do have one new rule: for now, anything on the family room rug has to be fair game for Naomi. In return, I promise to keep her out of the actual playroom when the big sisters are playing in there. For now. Even if I have to fence it off. I think this will keep us all from going crazy except, potentially, Naomi when she realizes there's a treasure trove of really good toys within crawling distance.

Did somebody say "crawling?" That'll never happen...

Pbthbthpbhthbth. Something else
Naomi has learned lately.

This thing spins. And it spins
again. And again. And again.
I wonder if it'll do it again.
Naomi the scientist, and the
one who has most loved the
exersaucer. And most
studied it.

Whee! Spinning!

What do we do with winter?

Although Elise doesn't like
cold weather, she sure does
look cute prepared for it!
And she knows it.

Before I had kids, I loved winter. The fresh, deep snow, mugs of hot chocolate, cozy indoor activities and an excuse to more or less hibernate. Plus, the memories of giant snow tunnels, sledding and snowmen of childhood--what a season!

Loving winter, as Matt often reminds me, is not to be confused with loving going out into it as an adult. Sometimes I do--don't get me wrong--but the refrigerated sections of the grocery store can give me enough of a chill to send me as quickly into the canned goods aisle as possible, so you can imagine what actual sub-freezing temperatures do to me.

Now that I have kids, and young, easily chilled, whiny ones at that (hmm, do you think they take after their mother?), winter is no longer the wonderland it used to be. Instead, we need strategies to manage winter. Otherwise, we all end up stir-crazy and not very nice to each other.

Winter always starts off well enough: we have Christmas to kick it off. Besides, we've spent Fall playing outside in the beautiful weather, and are ready to hole up and bake something. But then there's January, and February, and occasionally even March.

What to do? Don't let boredom get the best of you! There's plenty of fun to be had indoors! Or so the magazines tell me.

Kalina cut out paper heart valentines
for all of the princesses in the house!
And their horses, ponies, prince, etc.

Crafts will keep away the winter blues! Pinterest practically shouts at me: You should be making snowflakes out of melted crayons! And snowmen out of old socks! Haven't you made play snow yet?!? The possibilities are endless, but the energy and supplies are not. 

But sometimes we get brave and we do attempt something more than coloring, or painting or stamps. It goes like this:

Finding a project that doesn't require a trip to the store, let alone expensive, hard-to-find materials, and that doesn't require 8-year-old skills: 30 minutes.

Gathering materials: 15 minutes.

Prepping project: 5-20 minutes.

Helping both kids do the project at the same time: 15 minutes working at a frantic pace as glue gets waved in my face, scissors get misused by the 2-year-old and components nearly get smashed, even while they're begging me to "Help me put this on!" or "Oops, I messed it up, waaaahhhh, Mommy fix it!" and the like.

Cleanup: 20 minutes.

Now the kids have the rest of the afternoon to fight/play/fight while I try to catch my breath for a minute before starting dinner.

And believe me, the final product is nowhere near Pinterest-worthy. But, in my defense, those kids are probably all spoiled.

I'm not, actually, a craft hater--I rather enjoy them--but I think an "I'll grab this, and this, and this" 2-year-old and an "I want mine to be as perfect as yours, Mommy, so can you just do it for me?" 4-year-old can make any craft more chore than charming.

And yet, the amazing thing is, sometimes we do crafts. 

Elise had been dreaming of this
cupcake all day, and nearly
exploded from anticipation. The
girls helped me bake, but not
frost. I am only human.

Baking. When Kalina was 2 or 3 and Elise didn't yet know how to say, "Let me help!," Kalina and I did a lot of baking. That winter, we each probably put on five pounds, because even homemade granola bars add up. Then, Elise started helping and the pressure of having a kid on each side of me, somewhat precariously balanced on a stool or chair, fighting over raw eggs and full bottles of oil seemed to ruin my appetite for oat muffins. Now, baking is a pretty special treat--as it should be.

Other moms make sure every snack his balanced and in the shape of an animal or smiley face. Those kids, too, are spoiled.

And yet, the amazing thing is, sometimes we bake. 

Our Valentine's party! 

Celebrate the mediocre, because at least then you're smiling. Groundhog Day has never been bigger than in the houses of preschoolers. In all fairness, sometimes it's hard to get them to care, despite the fact that kids will generally celebrate anything. "Why does the groundhog come out?" "How does it know what the weather will be?" "So if it sees its shadow, that means more winter? Or spring?" These are all legitimate questions. And while Mommy is about ready for either a really good snow or spring, the kids don't seem to care as much. But that's all we've got until mid-February, when it's finally Valentine's Day, an entirely Hallmark-created holiday (and so far, Hallmark has barely touched Groundhog Day, with good reason. Because what do you put on the card? "Hope it's spring for you soon?"). We go all out for Valentine's Day, because it's bright and cheery--everything we need. Kalina has cut out about four dozen hearts (which means I've drawn about six dozen as Kalina improves her scissor skills--which I'm very proud of her for, by the way), and stuck jewels and stickers on a dozen more. Elise has glue-sticked her way through quite a few herself (it's her favorite writing utensil). Look, we're doing crafts! Heart crafts are about the easiest, so we do a lot of them. Then, for lack of anything better to do, we plan a Valentine's Day party. And look, we're all smiling! Love is in the freezing cold air.

With cousins Hailey and Teagan!
Since Teagan kept escaping unless
she was held, Kalina and Elise
decided that Elise needed to be
held, too.

Getting energy out. Elise already knows the meaning of this phrase. In fact, sometimes she'll run circles on the rug, telling onlookers that she's "getting her energy out." If my poor toddler has to run circles on the rug, however, it's a sign we need to go to a park! Except, usually, it's too cold for any of us to tolerate that for more than 10 minutes, and that's not worth the fight to get everyone's shoes and coats and hats on. So we go other places, but there's nothing like the park--either running is barely tolerated (although I think even the harshest employees know that it is, in fact, winter) or a hundred other moms had the same idea, which means there are two hundred other children competing with yours for floor space.

And yet, the amazing thing is, sometimes we go out anyway and temporarily remove a portion of the pent-up energy. 

Why not just go outside? And why not, really? It might be cold, but it also might be fun. Especially in St. Louis, where the temperature sometimes gets above 40! In all fairness, it also has gotten up to 60 once or twice, at which point we borrow any necessary groceries from the neighbors so we can play outside instead of spend a sunny afternoon at the store. These are the good days, because the neighbor kids are out too and all of a sudden Mommy is not the most popular playmate. On the 40-degree days, if it's sunny, we still might try to play outside in the afternoon, but it's a forced play. Elise is usually ready to head inside within 10 seconds (yet refuses all offers of mittens). Kalina does seem to have fun, and sometimes they even have a little fun on their own so I can sit on a short, cold cement step and watch them and shiver and dream of the day, kind of, when I'll be inside folding laundry while they're outside. Not that I don't like the outdoors, and all the whimsical good-mommy things we can do out there, but we've done all of them already and my motivation to be outside is too weak to do anything but grin and bear it. Creativity will wait for warmer temperatures.

And I agree that we're rather weak when it comes to temperatures, by the way. I blame it entirely on North Carolina. And yet, sometimes we play outside anyway.

Of course, snow is a special case. I've noticed that for the most part, it snows on weekends and holidays when Daddy's around. I'm not sure to what I owe this phenomenon, but I appreciate it, because Daddy likes the outdoors even more than the girls do, so I don't feel too bad sending the three musketeers out together and sitting inside with a mug of hot chocolate, or even a pile of laundry, I don't really care, because I'm warm and the kids are getting lots of good-quality outdoor play. Plus, Daddy is MUCH more fun than Mommy outside, trust me. 

Who wants to watch TV? The real question is, who wants to watch it more than Mommy does? No one! Nevertheless, while other good parents allow as much as 1-2 hours a day, I feel guilty if mine see that in a week. Even in the winter. Because they should be outside, or doing crafts, or getting their energy out! But sometimes I relax my standards and we turn on the tube. I'm just grateful they both enjoy it, because when we're all cranky with each other after the little one hasn't napped the past six days, and yet no one would ever consider willingly playing alone in their room because that would mean being out of sight, hearing and grabbing distance of Mommy, we just need to tune each other out for a bit. 

Hot chocolate, anyone? And of course, there's hot chocolate. Hot chocolate that's always a little too hot if it's a degree over lukewarm, so I end up blowing on theirs while mine cools down to a not-so-cozy room temperature. Not that I serve it to them as anything more than medium-warm, I just harbor a strange notion that hot chocolate should, actually, be a bit warmer than slightly chilled (or, in my case, nearly boiling). It must just be me. They've also discovered that marshmallows often go with hot chocolate, so it's no longer a nearly innocent treat (the way I make it involves only a spoonful of sugar for several servings). It always gets dripped on clothes, tablecloth, floors, you name it, finding its way even out of a sippy cup.

And yet, sometimes we have hot chocolate anyway.

No, not everything about winter is miserable. Nevertheless, I think we'll all welcome Spring with open arms. 

Doggie Tourism

Sometimes you take a trip. And sometimes the trip comes to you. In our case, the latter was definitely true when Aunt Nancy visited a couple weeks ago with her two dogs: good ol' Poky, and shiny new Casey. A city is a whole new place when you explore it with canine companions! Here's what we did (in pictures). 

First, we all played. The dogs had to stay on their leashes (especially Casey), but the kids were allowed to roam free. Kalina was in her element, giving the curious dogs a tour of the house and fully anthropomorphizing them, and Elise was mostly in my arms, or other places out of reach of wet noses and eager tongues. Eventually, both parties warmed up to the other, and agreed to let me take this picture. (Although Elise never did fully trust Casey!)

Then it was time for Aunt Nancy to actually bring her stuff in! Three of the girls watched from the window, while the other "helped."

After doing a little baking, we decided to head out on a little shopping trip. Which wouldn't have been any fun without the "puppies," so we went to Petco, where they could join us. We looked at all the animals, and then Elise played with all the doggy toys. 

Then we played in the backyard, Elise trying to herd Poky out of the "spiders" portion of our yard (it's kind of a wild area) and Casey soaking up attention from Kalina. 

Later, we ventured downtown, for a little frozen yogurt (enjoyed outside with the dogs), another dog store, and a park. It was a lot of walking, but also a lot of fun. Half of them settled in for naps immediately upon returning home, while the other half tried to keep playing. (Mine were not the ones sleeping, as you could have guessed.)

We watched Elise follow Poky from room to room in an endless loop of Poky finding a cozy place to sleep, Elise trying to cuddle her, and Poky mildly deciding to switch locations, in hopes that the problem would correct itself.

Meanwhile, Casey stayed put in the coziest place she could think of--Aunt Nancy's lap--and happily let Kalina pet her while she slept. Because nothing could've kept her awake, anyway, at that point. 

Casey joined Aunt Nancy and I for dinner outside at a downtown restaurant, while Kalina and Elise ensured Poky could get a good nap at home, most likely by tucking her in with a warm blankie and talking in whispers whenever they remembered (and shrieks the rest of the time). 

The dogs slept in the next morning (nothing wears out my girls!), and then we all headed to the sculpture park to enjoy some over-sized art out of doors. The kids climbed on anything they were allowed to, and the dogs happily trotted along and met another dog. It was, I admit, strange to have more people commenting on the cute dogs rather than the cute kids. I would be a bit offended if the dogs weren't so adorable!

That afternoon, we visited Grandpa's house, where the dogs got to run off-leash in the yard. As did the kids. Elise faced her fears and let Casey chase her around, and vice versa. Which always ended with me getting nearly flattened by a gleeful girl as a doggie zoomed past. Cute!

Although Elise is still a tiny bit scared of Casey, we loved our doggie visit. After 2+ days, the new "toys" never quite got old. Will we be getting a dog? It depends: only if we get one of Aunt Nancy's. Or, maybe they'll visit again sometime!

Elise's 2-year pediatrician visit!
I forgot to report on this on October 10, when the exam happened. But there's not much to report. Elise sailed through the appointment with barely a tear--so surprised was she by her single shot. She navigated the Flumist vaccine with few troubles, and was proud of her performance afterward. She weighed 26 pounds and was 34.5 inches tall. This puts her in the 40th percentile for weight, and the 65th for height.

We did have one point of discussion: Elise seems to have developed a topical cinnamon allergy. So, please don't put cinnamon on her. We think there's a good chance she'll grow out of it, but meanwhile we're simply avoiding it (internally, too).

We continue to like the doctor, who shoes undue (but much appreciated) interest in finding the girls the exact stickers they want after their appointment.