the girl | matching tracksuits

Knock Knock

Thursday 3 July 2014

The Girl has recently become obsessed with knock-knock jokes. Her favorite:

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting pirate.

Interrup–

Argh! I interrupted you!

Amusing the first time.

She tried to tell the banana one — you know:

Banana.

Banana who?

Knock knock.

Ad nauseum until the end:

Orange.

Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn’t say “banana” again?.

In my naivete, I corrected her telling, and now it’s an endless cycle of those two jokes.

An aside: the Boy has grown to love — and I mean adore — peanut butter spread on banana slices.

Another aside: the Boy doesn’t say “and.” It’s rather like the name “Anna.”

The other day, on the way somewhere, the Boy tries his first joke from the back of the van:

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Banana.

Banana who?

Anna peanut butter!

The kid has a future in comedy, I tell you.

Lessons

Monday 30 June 2014

First, piano lessons — first time I’ve taught someone piano. Should be fun.

Next, swim lessons — we’re paying someone to do this, but I could probably teach her as well.

Next, ice skating lessons — no way I could teach her how to do this.

Finally, some badminton practice.

The Wheels on the Car

Sunday 29 June 2014

Go round and round.

The driver of the car says, “Sing a little more quietly, please.”

The Boy in the back says, “Hi there, Tata!”

The kids in the car listen to Frozen together.

Well, not quite metrically accurate, but you could probably make it fit.

It’s been going on for almost a week now, this bi-yearly deck project. It’s taken a bit longer each time around, and while I try to tell myself that this is because of unforeseen rain, lack of materials, or something similar, I suspect that the speed with which I do it contributes. The cleaning and staining of the the deck is something that works best during hot, clear days, and these days, I work about forty minutes to an hour, and I feel compelled to go back inside and cool off.

Getting a helper today was really an unexpected treat. First, there’s the help. Sure, there was the learning curve. And yes, yes, I did have to go back and correct some runs — it’s the poor girl’s first time, for heaven’s sake. What do you expect?

But for a beginner, she certainly showed she was a quick student with a good eye for detail.

The second reason, of course, is the simple fact of who my helper was: to have your daughter be willing to help without any cajoling or bribery is a precious thing. Okay, there was a reward, but that was after the fact, after the agreement to help, after the work was done, but she didn’t know about it when she agreed to help out.

The proof: disappointment when I told her she was done.

“Well, can I paint this?” she asked. “What about that?” I finally found some work for her, but not enough to fill the time I had left rolling stain onto the floor, so she just sat and chatted with me.

The Boy loves to help as well. His independent streak is a bit more developed than his skills are, and he often insists, in Polish, that he do something alone (“Sam!” he says), but that desire is there, and we can easily channel it.

Some days it’s as easy as channeling water; other days, not so much. But that’s what being two is all about.

Summer Mornings

Friday 27 June 2014

Of our two, the Boy is always the first to wake up; indeed he’s often the first of the four of us. But these summer days, there’s a definite order: K, E, I, and then L. And it’s E that wakes up L. He toddles down the hallway, calling, “L, get up!” He climbs up on her bed, rolls around a bit, and then proclaims, “Time to get up!”

By this time, I’ve walked into the room, and E, worried that L is still asleep, suggests a more direct method of waking the Girl.

“Jump on L?” he asks, head cocked, as if he were simply asking if I would like him to bring a dirty plate from the table for washing.

“No, no, don’t jump on sissy.”

He turns to the window.

Monopolizing

Wednesday 25 June 2014

With one child, it was easier to make sure that we spread our time evenly. L had a monopoly. We played games with her, talked to her, cuddled with her. With her and only her.

When E came along, we warned her that things would change, that she’d have to share: time, attention, resources. Not love. Somehow that spread effortlessly, but the signs of love, the signs of love for a seven-year-old, anyway.

But with the Boy deep in his afternoon nap on a Wednesday afternoon, it’s time for a bit of that old monopoly.

Conestee Summer Evening

Tuesday 24 June 2014

The Boy is fearless on his four-wheel scoot-along (what the heck is that thing?). He comes barreling down our driveway at dizzying speeds, velocities that can stop a parent’s heart, if only briefly until he beginsÂ braking by dragging his shoes.

The Girl roars down the driveway even faster on her scooter, but that’s less worrisome: she’s seven, after all. More coordination, more understanding of the risks (though that only seems theoretical at times).

This evening we decided to take them both to a local favorite park for a little workout of these skills.

The Boy, though, had other interests.

Still, we managed to get them both together for just a moment for a picture from the newest observation deck.

And then the Boy showed just how sweet he can be.

The Queen of England

Monday 23 June 2014

Sure, I’m just basing this claim off anecdotal evidence I’ve experienced in my own classroom, but I’ll make the claim nonetheless: today’s kids just don’t have the imagination of past generations. I base this on the experience of students in creative writing classes having nothing to write about, and when given help with discovering the wealth of topics that surrounds them, they usually wrote about video games or thinly veiled remakes of various films.

The scene that greets me almost every day arriving at school goes a long way in explaining this, I believe.

The Girl, at this point, doesn’t suffer from such a lack of imagination. She’ll take a blanket, old sheer for window treatments, and heavy winter gloves and declare herself the queen of England.

Pickles and Picnics

Friday 20 June 2014

The Boy has some strange tastes, some strange favorites: pickle juice is a favorite drink. Finish off a bottle of pickles — the American, vinegary type — and he’ll jump on that bottle immediately.

The Girl has always had some strange tastes, too. It’s only been in the last year that she’s even ventured to try that favorite of American kids from coast to coast, the humble (and not-so-good-for-you) hot dog.

What to make to make of this? Nothing more than the obvious: kids too are individuals, and their tastes grow and change with time. For now, we’re happy the Girl loves so many Polish soups and the Boy just loves everything. Likely to change, but for now, it’s good.

Helping

Wednesday 18 June 2014

What To Do on a Hot Afternoon

Monday 16 June 2014

Cycles

Sunday 15 June 2014

When the Girl was little, Big Wolf was a popular guy who helped us pass a lot of hours.

“Shhh!” L would exclaim. “Big Wolf coming!” We would dive under whatever cover we could find and count down so that together we might sit up and command, “Big Wolf! Walk away!”

One day in the zoo, we found a plush wolf and knew what we had to do. It remains a highlight for us, a story K and I can retell with a smile, making L smile now too.

Time passed, though, and L grew, and the things that once thrilled her no longer did so. Big Wolf soon became one of many plush toys packed into a net hanging in the corner of her room. Forgotten? Not quite. But almost.

In recent days, the Boy and I have begun playing “Big Wolf” again. He holds his index finger to his lips, shushes us, and proclaims, “Oh! Big Wolf!”

We most often do it in the hammock, a recent discovery for us both. Three days in a row now we’ve gone down the the blue hammock in our wooded backyard and lay there as the evening sun sets all the leaves above us aglow. Just as with L, we play that we must pretend to be asleep in order to keep from provoking Big Wolf. The Girl has brought E her wolf plush toy, and now the Boy must have Big Wolf in the crib at all times, nap and evening rest.

The Girl in the meantime continues to create new cycles for the Boy and me to repeat later. Trips to the pool become lessons in sitting on the bottom of the pool, managing to touch the bottom at the deep end, and holding one’s breath for extended periods. Just as E is now, L was once terrified to put her face in the water, horrified at the thought of getting a droplet of water in her eye, and completely frightened of the deep end. Sooner than we realize, the Boy too will put away Big Wolf, take up his goggles, and tell me, “Tata, teach me a new pool trick.”

Another Day, Another Park

Friday 13 June 2014

“I don’t want to go to the park! We went to the park yesterday. We went to the park the day before yesterday. I’m tired of the park. I’m sick, sick, sick of the park.”

Thus we began our morning. Breakfast, a bit of My Little Pony on Netflix, some freshly picked raspberries and blackberries — none of these things, which some might be tempted, incorrectly I might add, to call bribes, worked. On the way to the car, it was the same.

“I’m taking my Pokemon handbook,” she huffed. “I don’t want to play.”

Of course by the time we got to the park, she’d reconsidered and thought she’d just give the playground a try.

“If not, I’ll go get my book.”

Naturally, she never went to get her book. How could she when the Boy was on such a roll: afraid of nothing, he even went down the big slide — and I mean big slide — all by himself. He panicked a bit on the way down, which is why he burned his forearm on the smooth plastic and probably explained that wide-eyed look he had, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from trying again.

Morning at the Park

Thursday 12 June 2014

Around the Table

Wednesday 11 June 2014

Everything these days seems to revolve around the table. The Boy seems to be eating constantly, so we’re either at the table, the bar, or his high chair.

L’s friends are always hungry, so we have snacks around the table.

Three Adventures

Tuesday 10 June 2014

Three adventures today, as varied as imaginable.

With the Boy, breakfast is always an adventure. He wakes up with the same declaration: “Dość!” which is “enough” in English. Enough sleep, enough fasting, enough of the crib. Just enough. And the second exclamation is always the same as well: “Cheerios!” And then it’s an endless train of food. Today, eggs, a small sausage, more cereal, and a bit of fruit. He can easily out-eat L these days.

The second adventure was after dinner, when L and I went out with camera in hand and discovered that we had not one but four cucumbers ready, the firstfruits from our garden. It’s our first year growing cucumbers, and we’re both shocked at how well they grow, and how much the bear. We’ll be making pickles, salads, and eating them straight from the garden until we’re utterly sick of them.

The final adventure: Bobiwa. That’s Bob the Builder in E-ese.

“Can we build it?” we ask.

“Es we caaa!” he chirps in return.

A construction crew is putting up a new fast food restaurant near the grocery store we frequent, and so E and I headed over to look at the equipment while K and L picked up a few items.