Saturday, October 28, A Baby Shower

*Today’s a busy day. Our morning began with the town’s Ragamuffin Parade, where all the kids get together in their Halloween costumes and walk from the main drag up the hill to the elementary school, where they trick or treat in the gym, then there’s an old-fashioned bake sale. It’s 100% adorable. We’ve never been able to do it before, as it was much too far to walk with my original shitty hips, but with these brand new shiny titanium ones, I was first in line to sign Isobel up this year. Next, we were invited to our next door neighbor’s baby shower, and later tonight, we’re heading to a birthday party in another state. That’s a lot for one day- we usually don’t do this much in a week. We’re getting ready to head over to the baby shower when Isobel’s question makes me realize that not only has she never been to a baby shower; she has absolutely no idea what a baby shower is.*

“Mom. So, does she have the baby in the shower?”
“What?”
“You know, the baby shower.”
“Dude. I’m sorry, I should have explained this better. No, babe, a baby shower is where a woman who’s pregnant has a party, and people give her presents for her and her baby. We sort of shower her with gifts, but not in a shower. See?”
“So, no shower.”
“No, not a real shower, like in a bathroom, no. It’s a party for the mom and baby.”
“Okay. But she’s not having the baby?”
“No, not today at the party. She’ll have the baby when the baby is ready to come out.”
“Huh. Can I still wear my Halloween costume?”
“Of course.”

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February 1, 2017

*Is gets two or three pages of homework every day (except Fridays), and once a month the teachers send home a new Sight Words sheet. We put that sheet up on the fridge after we work on reading the words together. But after we do the words, Isobel and I take turns making up little stories that use all the words in order, the sillier the better. I like to start my stories with, ‘It was a dark and stormy night…’

Today, the first sight word was ‘she’. We didn’t get much further than that, because…*

“She was a dark and stormy night…”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! Isobel, that’s hilarious.”

“I’m not done, Mommy.”

“Dude, sorry. Please continue.”

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January 9, 2017 (after school)

*Walking in the house, Isobel has had a sort of rough day; hurt her leg on the car, and then I told her it was too cold to play in the snow. She’s crying on her way into the house, throwing her gloves and boots, angry and sad…*

“Look, babe, let’s hug, have a tissue, I’ll make you a snack, then we can talk about your day, okay?”

“NO!”

“Okay.”

*She takes the tissue, wipes her face and says…*

“I’m gonna make you dinner. In my restaurant. I want to feel better so I’m going to cook for you, and thenĀ  you can cook for real, for me.”

“Okay, that sounds good! Where do you want me?”

“On the stairs, stay there. I have a Stair Restaurant.”

*She grabs a few bits of toy food from the living room and carefully and artfully sets them up on the volute- it reminds me of the show ‘Chef’s Table.’ I settle myself on the steps while she flies up to the playroom; immediately I hear banging and things being collected, then little footsteps at the top of the stairs. From behind and above me, she says…*

“It’s a Calm Restaurant. For you to not be starving in. Okay. Okay?”

“I got it. I’m calm.”

*Next thing, she loses control of the huge pile of toy food in her arms and it all comes bouncing down the stairs, so I quickly turn my surgical hip away, and get hit with about twenty pieces of plastic food. I hold up a few things that I managed to catch; an eggplant, half a cake, a spoon, and say…*

“THIS IS NOT CALM EATING! ALSO, I AM STARVING!”

“Hahahaha!”

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January 2, 2017

*Isobel nearly always comes in to draw on the big mirror in the bathroom while I’m taking a shower. Today was no exception- she drew a monster with a huge V on top of its head. It had three faces, and each face showed a big, happy smile. She held up three fingers and said…*

“This is how much faces the monster has!”
“He’s adorable! They’re all smiley. And it’s how many, not how much.””Oh, right, how many. Okay.”

“Right. Remember, much is if you can’t count something, and many if is you CAN count… like, how many fingers, or how much air…” I swing my hand around in the air, making figure eights.

“But, Mommy, you can count everything. Because it’s molecules.”

“Huh. Well, you got me there, kid. You’re right. But let’s say you don’t have the technology handy, such an electron microscope, right then to count something like air, so you’d say how much. Okay?”

“Okay. You still like my monster?”
“Very much.”

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August 24, 2016

*Is is sick- she was up half the night blowing her nose, even after Benadryl and Advil. Around midnight, she got up, crying and miserable, so we made her some waffles and got her Advil and watched a few episodes of Spongebob together…*

“That’s silly, Mom. Sharks are powerful, and sponges are just for washing.”

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January 14, 2016

*It’s time to take down the Christmas tree and put away the ornaments. Is comes running into the kitchen, holding handfuls of vintage elves, soft ornaments, and wrapped neck to ankles in red tinsel.*

“Wow! Are you helping Daddy put away the Christmas stuff?”
“Yes, Mom, and I feel very unChristmassy!”

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January 10, 2016

*Isobel invented a game years ago, called ‘Night’. Everyone goes in her room, they turn off all the lights, and make shadow puppets on the walls with flashlights. They play this before bed, nearly every night.*

“Let’s go play Night!”
“Is, can I come?”
“No, Mommy, you know the rules. No grown up girls, only grown up boys… and kid girls can play Night.”
“Okay.”
“It’s the rules, Mom.”

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January 7, 2016

*As I was brushing Is’s hair today, I noticed a little gold hair between her eyebrows. I went to pull it off her face, thinking it was just a loose hair- but it’s not- it’s growing there, very happily between her eyebrows. Is was not amused at my antics.*

“Okay, hold still, I’ll get that hair…”
“NO! It’s attached to my head!”
“But…”
“Don’t pull my head hair! It’ll pull my brain out!”
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January 6, 2016

*On the way home from school today, we see a beautifully restored little red pickup truck parked on the street. I point it out to Is and tell her that I like old cars- they’re so cool, with details like fins and split windshields and pointy taillights…*

“Pointy lights?”
“Yeah, they look kind of like rockets…”
“Wow. A. in school has shoes that light up!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You should buy me those.”
“Wait a second. Isn’t that the kid who pushed you and made you cry? I thought you didn’t like him very much. So, why would you want shoes like his?”
“Well, I don’t really like him. But he could keep his shoes and you could buy me new ones.”

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