Showing posts with label toddlers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toddlers. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Serious Painting

Here's Miles "creating a board game like chess but about monsters," using his favorite colors: red (the color of lava and rage...he's into the word "enraged" these days which he feels is more accurate than "anger" to describe his feelings of frustration at times) and pink (a color close to red). Both Eliza and Miles are wearing oil cloth aprons I got for them at Christmas via Etsy. I can't find the woman who made these, but there're a lot of cool handmade things at the site. Miles picked out the fabric himself (see, red...and it's got a pink pocket with red strawberries, his favorite fruit next to red apples).


Eliza, the driving force behind getting out the paints, is seriously at work.


What happens when you leave a toddler alone with paint. (She did a very thorough job.)



BTW, Elizabeth, if you're reading this, Eliza loves the black Amsterdam shirt you gave Miles when he was a baby. She pushes aside all the pink and goes for the black any time she's in the mood to dress herself (and it's actually clean and in her drawer).

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Dry Pants Day

Eliza made it through the day at school with no pull-ups and no accidents! Somebody find me a sticker for this girl! Hell, stickers all around! Have a sticker on me!

However, on her walk to the car...bless her.

That said, I will try not to obsess about my children's various milestones.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Night-time Performance

Transcription:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Once I caught a fish alive 
(segue into made-up song)
Two tige-e-ers
This my-y ba-a-rette 
(in fact, it's mine, note slight challenging expression)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Then I let it go again
(with a little prompting from mommy)
Why did you let it go?
Because it bit my finger so.
Why... Sing with me!
Which finger did he bite?
This little finger on my right. Ow!
(segue into pretending she's a cat cleaning herself)


I want it baa.... (she's referring to the aforementioned tiny hair clip on which she'd been chewing)
...insert practical, callous mommy's unnecessary explanation for the obvious...as well as delegitimizing, modern-parenting apology...followed by successful distraction
That one. I want you to read the ant one. "Hey, Little Ant."
(...mother not hearing her daughter give the actual title of the book can only speak from her less specific memory...the one about the ants?)
yeah...the one about the ants