If you put a crazy straw in the keyhole of Gaz's bedroom door, you can use it as a lever to release the alien octopuses that eat people.
In more sane news, Gaz sends her thanks for all the nice Valentines she received. She's also been making a ton of her own, and we are now practically drowning in hearts. She's having a good time, though, so can't complain too much.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Today
Gaz colored the bottom of her right foot with a black marker and went for a stroll all over our beige carpet. I was more than a little angry, sent her to her room without the markers, and thankfully the Atlantis cleaner thing removed the marks that I found. (I think I just found another one, but the light is strange this time of day.)
I checked on her in her room, and she was busily and cheerfully coloring me a picture (with nice, washable crayons, I might add) to help me feel better.
Then we made a pot of Montana Gold tea (which is, incidentally, the best tea in the world) and drank tea with milk from her groovy 70's plastic teacups. The cucumber sandwiches didn't go over quite as well with the Gaz, who prefers her cukes and her sammich to be prepared and served individually. I sure ate well, though.
Now she's sitting next to me, buried under all the couch pillows, sighing heavily. "I'm having a rest because it's been a hard day!"
"What was the hardest part of the day?" I ask, expecting the morning's drama to figure in somewhere, or maybe all the coloring. Or maybe even all that patience that had to be exercised while waiting for tea to brew, waiting for me to finish some phone calls I had to make. Something like that.
"Drinking all that tea today was REALLY HARD WORK, Mom." Of course.
I checked on her in her room, and she was busily and cheerfully coloring me a picture (with nice, washable crayons, I might add) to help me feel better.
Then we made a pot of Montana Gold tea (which is, incidentally, the best tea in the world) and drank tea with milk from her groovy 70's plastic teacups. The cucumber sandwiches didn't go over quite as well with the Gaz, who prefers her cukes and her sammich to be prepared and served individually. I sure ate well, though.
Now she's sitting next to me, buried under all the couch pillows, sighing heavily. "I'm having a rest because it's been a hard day!"
"What was the hardest part of the day?" I ask, expecting the morning's drama to figure in somewhere, or maybe all the coloring. Or maybe even all that patience that had to be exercised while waiting for tea to brew, waiting for me to finish some phone calls I had to make. Something like that.
"Drinking all that tea today was REALLY HARD WORK, Mom." Of course.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Dentist
Oops! I forgot to post after the check-up! I ended up with some surprise editing work that ended up taking more time than I expected, which wiped me out and so forgot about blogging for a while.
The dentist is completely wonderful. I heard many tales of her awesomeness on a local mailing list, so the choice wasn't hard. Even better, it's just a short bus or train ride from our new place. There was much praise for how well we brush her teeth, and Dr. T. told Gaz that she needs to let us help her with her toothbrushing until she's eight. I'm sure she'll really love that as the years progress. Her molars are a little close together, so we can go ahead and start flossing, or at least getting used to floss, but her front teeth are nice and spacious--lots of room for the permanents. And because Gaz started cutting teeth so early, she'll probably lose her first tooth early too. Like, maybe around five. We've got time yet for that milestone.
The spot I was worried about is, thankfully, not a cavity! It is a little pit, but it's "hard as a rock" says Dr. T, so we'll watch it and make sure that area gets brushed extra well. ::insert massive sigh of relief here::
Agatha got all kinds of goodies (Dora toothbrush, SpongeBob toothpaste, a purple dental mirror of her very own, crayons with pictures of toothbrushes on them, and a little sand timer to make sure we're brushing for long enough) and I got the lecture about the Horrors of Fruit Snacks. Which are only Gaz's favorite thing in the world. Dr. T says she'd rather see us give her ice cream for a treat than any kind of gummy anything, so I guess the fruit snack issue is pretty serious. Did we even have vast quantities of fruit snacks on the market when I was a kid? We're going to have to rethink our treat plans.
I've taken the opportunity of the dentist visit to push the "spitty toothpaste." Gaz is a very stubborn creature, and it makes life easier for everyone if I find a creative way to make things seem like they're really her idea. Getting her in the bathtub? We say that we're going to take her bath for her, which plays into her competitive spirit and gets her into the tub quite cheerfully most nights. Switching toothpaste wasn't too hard given it's novelty (and it's sparkliness), but it takes some doing to get all the way through the brushing without Gaz freaking out a bit about the volume of foam generated by spitty toothpaste versus the training toothpaste she's so fond of.
Apart from teeth, not much else is going on. There's been a lot of grumpiness the past couple of weeks, so we've not been as social as I'd like. We've been painting many pictures, working on writing letters and numbers, doing all sorts of drawing and putting stickers on paper and things. Oh, and cards. Making lots of cards. I finally found my giant stapler, so I made some little books that she can decorate, and that's been lots of fun.
Yesterday we opened up the "Mummies and More" kit my mom got me a while back, and Gaz painted the pyramid bank from that. Today we're still decorating it, but we ran out of My Little Pony stickers.
Gaz stuck a big crescent-shaped sticker on her forehead yesterday and is refusing to take it off, I think because it's stuck to her eyebrows. I figure if I can get her to run around enough, the sweat will loosen it up and make it easier to yank off when she's distracted. And it's not like I have to fight with her to get her to run around.
The Scooby-Doo obsession rages on. We just discovered the Netflix movies you can watch on the computer, so our SD library has expanded greatly. At least we don't have to watch those horrible old movies with Don Knotts anymore. She's probably the only three-year-old who even knows who Don Kotts is.
Such is life around these parts. One of these days it won't be so horribly cold and we'll be able to go out and run around. Come on, spring!
The dentist is completely wonderful. I heard many tales of her awesomeness on a local mailing list, so the choice wasn't hard. Even better, it's just a short bus or train ride from our new place. There was much praise for how well we brush her teeth, and Dr. T. told Gaz that she needs to let us help her with her toothbrushing until she's eight. I'm sure she'll really love that as the years progress. Her molars are a little close together, so we can go ahead and start flossing, or at least getting used to floss, but her front teeth are nice and spacious--lots of room for the permanents. And because Gaz started cutting teeth so early, she'll probably lose her first tooth early too. Like, maybe around five. We've got time yet for that milestone.
The spot I was worried about is, thankfully, not a cavity! It is a little pit, but it's "hard as a rock" says Dr. T, so we'll watch it and make sure that area gets brushed extra well. ::insert massive sigh of relief here::
Agatha got all kinds of goodies (Dora toothbrush, SpongeBob toothpaste, a purple dental mirror of her very own, crayons with pictures of toothbrushes on them, and a little sand timer to make sure we're brushing for long enough) and I got the lecture about the Horrors of Fruit Snacks. Which are only Gaz's favorite thing in the world. Dr. T says she'd rather see us give her ice cream for a treat than any kind of gummy anything, so I guess the fruit snack issue is pretty serious. Did we even have vast quantities of fruit snacks on the market when I was a kid? We're going to have to rethink our treat plans.
I've taken the opportunity of the dentist visit to push the "spitty toothpaste." Gaz is a very stubborn creature, and it makes life easier for everyone if I find a creative way to make things seem like they're really her idea. Getting her in the bathtub? We say that we're going to take her bath for her, which plays into her competitive spirit and gets her into the tub quite cheerfully most nights. Switching toothpaste wasn't too hard given it's novelty (and it's sparkliness), but it takes some doing to get all the way through the brushing without Gaz freaking out a bit about the volume of foam generated by spitty toothpaste versus the training toothpaste she's so fond of.
Apart from teeth, not much else is going on. There's been a lot of grumpiness the past couple of weeks, so we've not been as social as I'd like. We've been painting many pictures, working on writing letters and numbers, doing all sorts of drawing and putting stickers on paper and things. Oh, and cards. Making lots of cards. I finally found my giant stapler, so I made some little books that she can decorate, and that's been lots of fun.
Yesterday we opened up the "Mummies and More" kit my mom got me a while back, and Gaz painted the pyramid bank from that. Today we're still decorating it, but we ran out of My Little Pony stickers.
Gaz stuck a big crescent-shaped sticker on her forehead yesterday and is refusing to take it off, I think because it's stuck to her eyebrows. I figure if I can get her to run around enough, the sweat will loosen it up and make it easier to yank off when she's distracted. And it's not like I have to fight with her to get her to run around.
The Scooby-Doo obsession rages on. We just discovered the Netflix movies you can watch on the computer, so our SD library has expanded greatly. At least we don't have to watch those horrible old movies with Don Knotts anymore. She's probably the only three-year-old who even knows who Don Kotts is.
Such is life around these parts. One of these days it won't be so horribly cold and we'll be able to go out and run around. Come on, spring!
Monday, February 2, 2009
And she hasn't even seen Raising Arizona yet
Today's conversation, while looking at a book about dragons:
Me: [pointing at the one dragon on the page that I've not yet been lectured on] What does this dragon eat?
Gaz: She eats sand.
Me: She eats sand?
Gaz: She eats sand from her dragon beach.
Me: Okay then.
In a few hours, we've got her first trip to the dentist. It's nearby (yay!) and kid-only (double yay!), with lots of cool and undoubtedly expensive gadgets that make check-ups faster and easier on kids. Best of all, I get to stay with her the whole time, and if she gets skittish she can have at least part of the check-up while sitting on my lap. Unfortunately, I think there's a cavity involved, but I'm still hoping it was a weird shadow or something completely innocuous. She's not in pain or anything, so at least she's in a pretty good mood, apart from not being excited to have to go do something boring like see a dentist.
Me: [pointing at the one dragon on the page that I've not yet been lectured on] What does this dragon eat?
Gaz: She eats sand.
Me: She eats sand?
Gaz: She eats sand from her dragon beach.
Me: Okay then.
In a few hours, we've got her first trip to the dentist. It's nearby (yay!) and kid-only (double yay!), with lots of cool and undoubtedly expensive gadgets that make check-ups faster and easier on kids. Best of all, I get to stay with her the whole time, and if she gets skittish she can have at least part of the check-up while sitting on my lap. Unfortunately, I think there's a cavity involved, but I'm still hoping it was a weird shadow or something completely innocuous. She's not in pain or anything, so at least she's in a pretty good mood, apart from not being excited to have to go do something boring like see a dentist.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
By and large, there hasn't been anything entertaining to say. She's just about three-and-a-half. She gets frustrated easily, gets overstimulated easily, throws tantrums at the drop of a hat, and generally needs plenty of work, but not of the sort that is really that much fun to read about or hear tell of over the phone. Actually, if you try to call here and have a conversation, it's likely to involve many asides to tell Gaz to "stop doing that, I said STOP DOING THAT. RIGHT NOW. I have to go." Fun! But there's an almost equal number of times when she'll insist that we make a card or paint a picture for someone, or give me a big hug and kisses all over my face and tell me she loves me.
Which is actually fun, but gets repetitive when it's written down. So here's a few little strange things that aren't about tantrums, diapers, her inability to cover her nose when she sneezes (so, so, SO sorry about your lunch, Tamara!), or even any of the glurge. I hope that in the future it won't take me a month to gather this much shareable stuff.
In amongst the usual bundles of "why" questions, Gaz has had a few weird ones that she's been asking. While out having some quality time with Mark, the subject of our wedding photo came up, and from there sprang, "Where was I before I was born?" And then she pretended to eat Mark's brains (he was carrying her on his shoulders at the time). She gets the uterus thing, and she gets the being born thing as much as she can, but she's always wondering what she was doing when Mom and Dad kissed that one day in the picture, and what was she doing when we went to Italy? Thankfully, she is not insisting on immediate, concise answers.
Gaz likes to "shave" (with a play razor and foamy soap) her face lately, so this is now a component of every bath time. I'm guessing that she'll outgrow this well before puberty, but if not I don't know how I'll break it to her that she won't be growing a beard any time soon. In true Gaz fashion, she has named her razor Captain Wookiee--formerly Mr. Wookiee, but it turns out that the razor is a girl, and she didn't want her to feel bad about being called "mister." No, she hasn't seen any Star Wars movies yet, but she has seen a documentary about the movies, which is where I think the Wookiee bit came from.
So last night she's putting foam on her face and she starts to sing: "It's your mom and your dad and they're SHAVING!" And I couldn't stop laughing. I still laugh when I think of it. It's a surreal show tune sort of song, and it's coming out of my daughter. I don't know where she gets this stuff. Shaving I get, but parents shaving and this being a song-worthy event is something I would never have considered. The songs pop up all the time and tend to involve riffing on the "you can do anyting you want to do" theme. You can jump on the bed if you want to, or you can not jump on the bed if you want to, or you can jump on the bed and then get a snack if you want to . . .
But now mama's going to go to sleep because she wants to.
Which is actually fun, but gets repetitive when it's written down. So here's a few little strange things that aren't about tantrums, diapers, her inability to cover her nose when she sneezes (so, so, SO sorry about your lunch, Tamara!), or even any of the glurge. I hope that in the future it won't take me a month to gather this much shareable stuff.
In amongst the usual bundles of "why" questions, Gaz has had a few weird ones that she's been asking. While out having some quality time with Mark, the subject of our wedding photo came up, and from there sprang, "Where was I before I was born?" And then she pretended to eat Mark's brains (he was carrying her on his shoulders at the time). She gets the uterus thing, and she gets the being born thing as much as she can, but she's always wondering what she was doing when Mom and Dad kissed that one day in the picture, and what was she doing when we went to Italy? Thankfully, she is not insisting on immediate, concise answers.
Gaz likes to "shave" (with a play razor and foamy soap) her face lately, so this is now a component of every bath time. I'm guessing that she'll outgrow this well before puberty, but if not I don't know how I'll break it to her that she won't be growing a beard any time soon. In true Gaz fashion, she has named her razor Captain Wookiee--formerly Mr. Wookiee, but it turns out that the razor is a girl, and she didn't want her to feel bad about being called "mister." No, she hasn't seen any Star Wars movies yet, but she has seen a documentary about the movies, which is where I think the Wookiee bit came from.
So last night she's putting foam on her face and she starts to sing: "It's your mom and your dad and they're SHAVING!" And I couldn't stop laughing. I still laugh when I think of it. It's a surreal show tune sort of song, and it's coming out of my daughter. I don't know where she gets this stuff. Shaving I get, but parents shaving and this being a song-worthy event is something I would never have considered. The songs pop up all the time and tend to involve riffing on the "you can do anyting you want to do" theme. You can jump on the bed if you want to, or you can not jump on the bed if you want to, or you can jump on the bed and then get a snack if you want to . . .
But now mama's going to go to sleep because she wants to.
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