Time: An Ever-Changing Concept

All last week, the constant refrain around here was,

"When Clara's a baby, he's gonna wear _____." [insert anything of Joey's, anything Joe was playing with, anything he looked at, etc]

Yes, there are a number of odd things with this sentence.

1) Clara consistently mixes up her gender pronouns. So if you meet her, don't be offended if you're a woman and she refers to you as "he". Men, vice versa.

2) I asked her the other day, "so you're going to be a baby again someday?" Yep. Apparently that's the theory she's working with. I just go with it, as it's her current favorite delusion.

As a relief tonight, she did declare, "When Clara's a mommy, he's gonna have a purple toothbrush."

Phew. At least she can go forward in time, too.

And thirty years down the road, [fingers crossed] I'll give her that purple toothbrush to celebrate her motherhood. ;P

Catch This!

The Girl can catch.




You go, girl!

Three Way Conversations

Typical mealtime conversation:

Joey: ooo, ooo, ooo

Clara: Joey's talkin'!

Me: What's he saying?

Clara: Ooo, ooo, ooo.

And here I was, hoping for an interpreter.

Quiet Christmas

Well, we've done it. We had Christmas by ourselves this year.

And it wasn't too bad!

Christmas Eve day was cold, cloudy and misty, making me almost feel that I was in Indiana for Christmas. However, why Televisa thought a Chucky marathon was fitting for Christmas Eve is beyond me.

Christmas Day was beautiful. While waiting for the pancakes to cook, I tried to get Clara to put the baby Jesus in his place in the nativity scene. She was into it until I told her to be careful holding him, and then she wanted me to do it. We wrapped him up well so he wouldn't be cold. ;)

Since we did not celebrate Thanksgiving this year, I really wanted to have a turkey. I threw that into the oven after mass, and while we waited for it to bake, we turned on the radio where they had a constant stream of Christmas music playing, and the four of us danced the afternoon away. We skyped with my family just before taking the turkey out of the oven.

The table was set, the sides dished out on serving platters, the wine was poured, the candles were lit. Mario carved into the turkey . . .

and it was raw.

Oops.

So we threw the turkey back in the oven, ate the sides, watched Bambi II on the TV, and at 8:00, just before throwing the children into bed (actually, I think the smaller one was in bed) we finally ate that turkey. It was glorious--crunchy on the outside, juicy on the inside, everything a Christmas turkey should be. Well worth the wait.

Lesson learned: when the Joy of Cooking says that the turkey only needs to cook for two hours, turn it over and then cook it for another vague 30-90 minutes more. . . they're WRONG! (The only Joy recipe to fail me so far--I'm not trying to trash Joy! Usually I'm its biggest fan.) However, sticking to the standard 1 hour per kilo of turkey rule worked out pretty well. Unfortunately, I was only informed of said rule as the hubs was cutting into the raw turkey. I'm never able to remember the minutes per pound rule. This one I think will stick.

It was another interesting Christmas on another front, as it was the first Christmas I've experienced without presents. We didn't intentionally not buy presents for each other. (Although Santa Claus did intentionally not visit Clara because she'll be getting a visit from the Three Kings in a few days.) Truth be told, I had been planning on buying Mario a juicer (the one thing I know he wants and hasn't bothered to get yet himself) for quite some time. And I know he needs some pretty heavy hints if I expect him to get anything for me--which I had not been throwing out. December just flew by and I just never got him anything and never threw out any hints. No problem. Just keeping things simple, which is generally the rule we live by in this house.

It probably won't happen again next year, but I'm glad we tried it at least once. Even if it wasn't on purpose.

However, next year, I am really hoping to have a few more people around! THAT is what we really missed!

Thoughtfulness

Remember that post when I wrote that The Boy was sleeping through the night?

Yeah, that was short-lived. The last two nights he got up every 4 hours and did not go back down easily. That, combined with my stupid habit of spending too much time on the internet at night, makes for one tired momma.

So imagine my surprise when, this morning, I woke up suprisingly well-rested. An even bigger surprise when I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9am!!! At that moment, no small people were clamoring for my attention, I just woke up because I had slept enough.

Surprise #2--this was the scene that greeted me when I opened my bedroom door:



















In a hushed voice she told me, "I waitin' for you, Momma."

Awww . . . can a day be started any better?

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Clara opening her door on her own was no surprise--she's been getting better and better at it for the last two weeks. However, she's normally pretty noisy and spends a good 10 minutes rattling the door knob before she meets with success. But the fact that she did not freak out when she found that she was the first person awake in the morning, PLUS not demanding that I get up to read to her immediately were pretty impressive feats for this two-year-old.

So, when she asked for a cookie as we headed to the kitchen, I thought it a sufficient reward for being so stinkin' thoughtful.

Yours, Mine, and Ours

If you're not used to talking with her, conversations with Clara can be pretty tricky. (That's how she'd phrase it.)

Yes, sometimes she doesn't pronounce words right.

But the real trick is that, in Clara's mind, she is always You. I (or whoever she's talking to) am always Me. Because, of course, when I talk to her, she is You and I am Me. So it makes sense just to repeat things that way, right?

So when she says, "Help you!" she isn't saying that she wants to help you. She's saying that she needs help. When she says "Sit with me!" what she's saying is that she wants to sit on your lap.

This confusion has been going on for a few months now, and I've gotten used to it. But now we're beginning to coach her as to what she should really say.

So now, every once in a great while when she wants help, she will say "help me!"

And I'm left wondering if it's me she wants to help or if she needs the help.

"Sheesh", as Kermit would say.

The Boy and Harry

When I found out that I was expecting a baby in the first week of August, it didn't take me long to think, "what if he comes a little early? Say, July 30th? Then he'd share a birthday with HARRY POTTER!!!" (And JK Rowling, of course.)

And he very nearly was born on Harry's birthday! (But, I really am more excited about the fact that he was born on my grandma's birthday.)

And, while we picked out his name simply because we liked it, I have found a number of ways to justify it to him. My favorite being that we named him after JK Rowling, as he was so very nearly born on her birthday. (hehehe--poor little guy!)

And, popular opinion has it that he's the spitting image of his father. But he's clearly got his mother's eyes--just like Harry.

And he has crazy, stick-out-in-all-directions hair, just like Harry!

And, being a product of both me and Mario, the likelihood that he'll probably need glasses one day--just like Harry!

However, I'm quite certain that he is just a muggle.

Not like Harry.

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Yes, I'm still up at 1am, waiting for my flan to bake. This is what happens.