No, I am not talking about the movie where Kate Winslet plays an illiterate Nazi prison guard who seduces a teenage boy. I am talking about our dear Sophie Bear, who decided that Papa’s book would make good out-loud entertainment.
See for yourself. Next thing you know, she’ll be buried in the Harry Potter series too.
Sophie spent a little more time than usual with her Papa today because our Friday babysitter came down with a stomach bug. Sophie loves her father very much. And loves to give him presents. Kind of like a cat that loves to give its owner dead mice.
Sophie is not interested in dead mice, but she did the cat species one better today.
“Papa I have a present for you,” she said with a mischievous smile. She then let out a big fart. And laughed. A lot. “I made a ‘proute’ [that’s French for fart] present for you, Papa!” she exclaimed with evident pride. I really love my girls.
As most of you know, Chloe likes words. She reads like a fiend, enjoys helping me with Scrabble and has found a new favorite word game in Bananagrams.
Apparently, during the course of a Bananagrams game with her Grammy the other day, Chloe decided to show off her anatomical knowledge.
She confided in me yesterday, with a hearty giggle, that one of the words she put down was penis. She was very proud of herself. My mom clarified that she spelled it ‘pennis,’ but no matter. My 8-year old made her point. Perhaps she’ll try for vagina next time.
My mom tells me that Chloe and Sophie had a terrific time with her this weekend. No surprise there. The girls always have a great time with their Grammy.
What was surprising was that my mother claims the two got along just swimmingly. No arguments, no raised voices. In fact, hugs and kisses all around, even in public. A sisterly lovefest for more than 24 hours.
Those can’t be my girls. My girls are the ones who taunt and scream at each other. The ones who, earlier this evening, were running around the house yelling at each other over something so important I don’t remember what it was. The ones who accuse each other of being mean, of saying “poopy” and of stealing the other’s toys.
I told my mother that next time I want proof of their angelic behavior. So that I can witness the love for myself. So that I can post it to this blog for all to behold.
The girls are with my mom tonight and are going to enjoy a day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art tomorrow while my husband and I work (bummer). They were very excited to have a sleepover at Grammy’s because when they have a sleepover at Grammy’s, they go swimming and do all sorts of fun things.
We were excited for Chloe and Sophie to have a sleepover because we were able to go see a non-animated movie for the first time in months (“The Reader” – acting was great; story was a bit manipulative) and have a nice adult dinner. And we have a quiet house. Priceless.
…that will provide her up to $6 a week for doing chores. Chloe and Papa devised a scheme earlier today so that she can rack up points by helping out around the house. From homework (she lucked out on that one – I never would have allowed her to receive points for something she needs to do and would do regardless, but hey, this wasn’t my project) to cleaning to practicing piano to making her bed, the possibilities for income generation are endless. I’m surprised she didn’t convince her Papa to give her points for wiping her butt after going to the bathroom, but who knows? She might try that next.
In Chloe’s eyes, $6/week – which will actually be fairly difficult for her to achieve – is a very exciting thing. Six dollars will buy a Nancy Drew book, 1/4 of a Nintendo DS game, a bunch of silly dollar toys, a cool notebook, fun pens. Over the course of one year, she could earn $300 – at least in theory – and help prevent the economy from going the way of the Titanic.
But we all know how it will likely go. When she realizes all the time she’s going to have to spend earning points, she’ll soon tire of it. After a few weeks spent toiling away, the points and the cash will start dwindling. The only sure thing is the $1-$2 she’ll earn every week for doing her homework (at least until the end of June) and cleaning the hamsters’ cage (so long as Alubus and Gloup shall live). The rest is a crapshoot.
We’re only five weeks from the official start of spring. The countdown starts now. I have to look forward to something during these long ugly days of winter.
Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Silly holiday. Chloe came home from school with all sorts of candy. Sophie came home from her dear babysitter’s house with lollypops. And lots of smiles.
I told my dear husband not to buy me anything for Valentine’s Day, which came as a relief to him because he hadn’t planned to buy anything. I told him that if he was thinking of buying me flowers he could wait an extra week, save some money and give them to me on February 21.
I visited the grade 3-5 elementary school Chloe will be attending in September. It’s a huge building. A little overwhelming. But…
They have a classroom devoted to the student drum core. A classroom devoted to science classes. A dance studio and a gymnastics studio. A music room (different from the drum room), with keyboards. An art studio. A library, of course. A huge auditorium. A computer lab. And they offer so many electives, Chloe will go nuts!
Hell, as I was roaming the colorful hallways, I was wishing that I was 8 years old again. Sheltered from the shitty economy, from work, from everything but fun. Oh well. Since we don’t live in Neverland, I’m stuck being 40. Which isn’t without its benefits, mind you…but still, drum room, art studio, science lab… in 3rd grade? Jeez Louise.
OK, not really. She was just being silly and isn’t even familiar with that painting. Actually, she says she’s heard of the painting because it was featured in an episode of “Wizards of Waverly Place.” I guess you can learn things from stupid kids’ TV shows.
In another funny moment tonight, Sophie came bounding down the stairs to let Papa know that the radio in the attic wasn’t working properly. She was having trouble explaining the problem, but she was doing her best to convince her daddy that whatever was wrong required immediate attention. Perhaps realizing that she wasn’t succeeding in conveying the enormity of the situation, she decided to appeal to his ego. “Papa, you need to come now. You’re Mr. Fixer!” Needless to say, Papa couldn’t resist after that bit of flattery. He followed Sophie upstairs and fulfilled his Mr. Fixer duties.
A Mom's Ramblings About the Marvels & Mishaps of Parenting, the Joys of Family Travel & the Writing Life
Sophie spent a little more time than usual with her Papa today because our Friday babysitter came down with a stomach bug. Sophie loves her father very much. And loves to give him presents. Kind of like a cat that loves to give its owner dead mice.
As most of you know, Chloe likes words. She reads like a fiend, enjoys helping me with Scrabble and has found a new favorite word game in Bananagrams.
Chloe is mulling over the idea of providing a monthly poetry column. The following poem counts as her second contribution; the first one is here. 
…that will provide her up to $6 a week for doing chores. Chloe and Papa devised a scheme earlier today so that she can rack up points by helping out around the house. From homework (she lucked out on that one – I never would have allowed her to receive points for something she needs to do and would do regardless, but hey, this wasn’t my project) to cleaning to practicing piano to making her bed, the possibilities for income generation are endless. I’m surprised she didn’t convince her Papa to give her points for wiping her butt after going to the bathroom, but who knows? She might try that next.
We’re only five weeks from the official start of spring. The countdown starts now. I have to look forward to something during these long ugly days of winter. 
OK, not really. She was just being silly and isn’t even familiar with that painting. Actually, she says she’s heard of the painting because it was featured in an episode of “Wizards of Waverly Place.” I guess you can learn things from stupid kids’ TV shows.
