Let's all put on our bragging hats

This is where I reveal myself as one of those mothers who gets overly excited about her child's every small accomplishment. Deal with it. :-)

The kindergarten play was this week, and dang was it cute. (Really, all you have to do is put fifty or sixty kindergarteners on stage together, and you're guaranteed cuteness whether they perform well or not.) It was a farm play, and G's class played the pigs. She had six lines, which made me a little nervous -- she could say them perfectly at home, not to mention execute all the songs and dances like a pro, but you never know what's going to happen when the spotlight's on. She did wonderfully well, though, and we were very proud.

Because she was one of the Student of the Month winners for May, we were invited to watch her accept her award at an assembly the day after the play. She got to shake the principal's hand and stand up on the stage with her certificate and the "Super Student" bumper sticker that comes with it. P isn't a bumper-sticker kind of guy, so the sticker went on my car. I told her that I would take her out to dinner anywhere she wanted to celebrate, but instead of a restaurant, she chose a little hole-in-the-wall pizza place she loves. So, we went to an early showing of Madagascar, and then she had her slice of cheese pizza and was happy.

Today was the usual Saturday-morning tap class. They're having a recital on June 24, so the entire class is devoted to rehearsal for that right now. Most of the other girls in her class are much younger -- it's for 4- to 6-year-olds, and I think she's the only one at the top end of that range -- and they're all over the place, talking to each other and giggling and falling on the floor. G, on the other hand, is dead serious about it all. She stands there in the middle of the line, towering over everyone else, watching the teacher with a look of intense concentration and copying her every move. She may not be the world's best tap dancer, but it's not for lack of trying. I have the feeling I ought to switch her into a class for older kids when this session ends, because the teacher has to spend so much time getting the 4-year-olds to stay in line and do what they're supposed to do that there isn't much left for actual instruction.

G, for her part, says she wants to quit tap and take flamenco during the summer session. There is a flamenco class for 6- to 12-year-olds, but I really don't want to sign her up for it. For one thing, I don't think she actually knows what flamenco is -- she just likes the sound of it -- and for another, I don't want to buy yet another pair of special shoes for a class that only lasts 9 weeks. I think I'll check out what's available through the rec departments in a few neighboring cities and see if there's something that appeals to her more.

After tap, I took her out to breakfast at Denny's, where she's been asking to go for a while. She enjoyed her French toast sticks and had fun playing with the Madagascar mask and finger puppet they were giving out. We had to ask specially for her to have one, and I'm pretty sure it's because the hostess thought she was older and wouldn't want it. This is something that happens all the time -- she's very tall for her age and always has been, and so people assume she's older than she is, even though she talks and acts like a 6-year-old. In fact, it happened again later in the day while we were at the Lakeshore Learning store. An older girl came up to us in the musical instruments aisle and started talking to G, obviously assuming G was her age. When she got around to asking G how old she was, G said "Six," and the girl said "Oh! I'm eight ... I thought you were eight too." (I hope this looking-older thing doesn't translate into looking 16 when she's 12. Eeek.)

Lakeshore Learning was great, by the way. They have free crafts for kids every Saturday, so G made a hand puppet, and we bought some fun stuff -- a kit for making bead necklaces and bracelets, a floor puzzle, a bucket of word tiles (there are prefixes like bl- and br- and endings like -ack and -ight, and you put them together to make words), and a laminated map of the world. She played with these goodies all afternoon, first with me, and then by herself while P and I watched the season finale of "Lost." I got a Teacher's Club card on this visit, so I'll definitely be going back for more shopping. I've always gotten educational supplies at Staples, but they don't have anywhere near the selection this place does.

Talk to me

G's pretty articulate for a six-year-old -- she has a good vocabulary, and her speech is clear and easy to understand, even for adults who don't know her. However, a couple of "baby" pronunciations have lingered. Until this year, she always said "do's" for "does," as in "He do's that." Now she always gets "does" right, but she still says "taste-es" for "tastes," as in "This spaghetti sauce taste-es weird." (I heard that one at the dinner table this evening.) I probably should not find this cute, but I do. I'm going to be sad when "taste-es" goes the way of "do's."

You know your weekend was busy ...

... when you don't get around to writing about it till Wednesday.

On Friday night, we went as a family to see "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." I probably enjoyed it the most, since I've been a fan of the books since I was a teenager, but P and G liked it too.

On Saturday, G had tap class as usual. Then, after lunch, we went with some friends to see an exhibit of Egyptian mummies at a local museum. G's been interested in mummies ever since we read a Magic Treehouse book about them, so she was pretty excited to see some in person. I was too -- I did see some Egyptian things when P and I visited the Metropolitan Museum several years ago, but we were in a hurry at the time and I didn't get to look at them for as long as I would have liked. In addition to mummies, this exhibit had lots of sarcophagi, canopic jars, wooden coffins, figurines, and scarabs and other jewelry. G pronounced all the jewelry "gorgeous," LOL. I'm fascinated by personal effects like those because they make me think about the people they belonged to: a necklace may be an artifact in a glass case now, but once it was someone's prized possession, kept safe in a box and taken out on special occasions. Somehow I doubt any of my own jewelry will be in a museum 3,000 years from now, but hey, you never know.

On Sunday morning, G had a playdate with one of her best friends. The two girls hadn't seen each other in a few months, and it was hard for them to say goodbye even after three hours of nonstop playing! We finished out the day with a trip to Toys R' Us and an early dinner, and then it was time to regroup for another crazy week of work and school. That's one thing I don't like about Sunday nights: the feeling that my reprieve is over and I'm about to jump back on the hamster wheel again. Blah.

Anyway, next weekend is promising to be just as busy. G has a birthday party to attend on Saturday afternoon and is looking forward to it immensely -- she's been talking about it nonstop ever since she got the invitation two weeks ago. On Sunday, we'll make a quick stop to give P's mom her Mother's Day gifts, and then we're off to Disneyland to renew our annual passes. G doesn't know we're going to Disneyland yet. She also doesn't know we're spending the night at the Disneyland Hotel and going again the next day, so there should be major excitement when we tell her. I'm looking forward to it. :-)

Under the sea

Since pretty much everything in G's bathroom was ruined when the ceiling fell in, she got to choose all-new decor for it last night. P vetoed her first choice (multicolored stripes), so she went for Target's Glitter Fish design instead. I bought the toothbrush holder and soap dispenser (both shaped like fish), the trash can (tropical blue with fish) the rug (also tropical blue with fish) and the towels (white with embroidered fish), as well as a picture of a cartoon octopus for the wall. The rug is awfully small, and it still looks pretty bare in there, so I may try to find some additional rugs in a complementary color, and maybe a wallpaper border. I like decorating, but it's so hard to fill up a whole room, even one as tiny as a bathroom! I wish we could paint -- it's a much cheaper way to liven a place up -- but that's one of the drawbacks of renting.

It's alive!

Oops. I seem not to have updated in a while.

It's been a long two months, filled with birthdays (not mine), hospitalization (also not mine), inhuman amounts of work (mine, alas) and a collapsing bathroom ceiling (the whole family's, but I was the poor slob who happened to be in there when it collapsed). After all that, I'm hoping for a very boring and uneventful summer.

G started her tap class this past weekend and is enjoying it so far. Hey, what kid wouldn't love the opportunity to wear noisy shoes and stomp on a wooden floor? It ends just about the time she gets out of school, so I should probably start looking around for some other activities to keep her busy through vacation. She'll be going to art day camp at a local museum for a week in August, but that's all I've lined up for her so far. Now that she's used to getting out of the house every day, I think she'll be restless once the novelty of staying home wears off. I hope P is well enough to take her out occasionally. I know he wants to; it's just hard when he's feeling ill.

In other news, she and I have been reading tons of books lately. We've been through a new Magic Treehouse, several of the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books, a book called Chocolate Fever that I remember from my grade-school days, a Clue Jr. Mysteries book, and about half of James and the Giant Peach. I love Roald Dahl, but his books are hard to read aloud because every other line of dialogue is "cried" or "shouted" or "screamed" or "shrieked." He was a great fan of exclamation points, was Roald. We read picture books tonight instead, which was a nice rest for my poor, tired voice, but tomorrow it'll be back to the shrieking and hollering. I do need to work some easy books into our nightly reading so G can read to me, too. When we read chapter books, I just let her lie back and listen -- it wouldn't be any fun for her if I made her struggle through a page of James and the Giant Peach. (Plus, we'd be up till sunrise because she'd have to stop and sound out every fourth or fifth word.) She does need to practice, though.

The truth shall set you free. Or something.

It's taken ten years, but my husband has finally admitted his age. He's been claiming he's twenty-five ever since he was ... well, twenty-five. When he turned thirty, I told him, "You can keep that up for another year and a half, but when I turn thirty, you'd better turn thirty with me." But my thirtieth birthday came and went, and if you asked him his age, he'd still say "Twenty-five" with a sly grin.

Well, the other day, he was complaining about his arthritis, and he said "It's just not fair! I shouldn't have arthritis yet. I'm only turning thirty-fi -- oh, crap! I admitted it! Oh, no! There's no going back now!"

So his birthday's tomorrow, and in honor of the occasion, and his great (if accidental) admission, I got him a special card. On the outside, it has a shot of two dinosaurs from one of those cheesy fifties sci-fi movies, with a little speech balloon that says "Remember us?" On the inside, it says "We used to sit behind you in homeroom."

Heh heh.

Art for art's sake

G and I had some fun with art on Sunday afternoon. She was banging markers randomly down on a paper towel and letting the ink dots spread, and something about that reminded me of those splattery Jackson Pollock action paintings. I got my laptop and showed her what they looked like, and then, for comparison, showed her Seurat's Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte to illustrate how you could also use dots of color to make a more traditional "picture." Some of the images of Impressionist paintings in the sidebar on that page caught her eye, and she asked to look at them, so we clicked through a few. Afterward, she decided to name her own picture "The Rainbow Colors" (I had told her that artists usually give a title to each piece of work). She wrote that at the top of the paper towel, with a little spelling help from me, and then signed it at the bottom the way an artist would.

Anyway, this was an interesting way to spend half an hour. She really loves all sorts of painting and drawing, and she's been asking to go to a "picture museum" for a long time, but I've never taken her because I thought she wasn't old enough to appreciate it. We've been to plenty of natural history and science and children's museums, but never an art one. Maybe it's time.

Brought to you by Hallmark and Hershey

Yes, it's that day of the year, also known as The Day Before All The Chocolate Goes On Sale.

Last night I bought heart-shaped balloons for G and sneaked them into her room so she'd see them first thing in the morning. She was thrilled -- I woke up with her standing by my side of the bed and whispering "Mommy, I got some balloons! Did you do that?" They had a Valentine party in her class this morning, and she handed out the Valentines she and I made and got a huge bag of cards and candy in return. When I got home from work, she was sitting on the couch, still in her ballet clothes (she has ballet class on Monday afternoons), devouring a cherry sucker like there was no tomorrow. It's good to be six. :-)

On the adult side of things, P got me Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, which I've been wanting to read, and I got him a bar of Godiva dark chocolate and a Hellblazer graphic novel, which I'll have to exchange because it turned out to be one he already had. (Repeat after me: It's the thought that counts.) Overall, I'd say it was a successful holiday.

In other news, our fish tank has developed a slow leak. We've had it for almost two years, so I suppose it was inevitable, but it's still annoying, not least because it means I have to buy, haul home and set up a new tank. I'm not looking forward to catching the fish and transferring them into their new home, either. The goldfish aren't too bad, but the catfish is strong and stubborn and doesn't like to be moved. P suggested that I just flush them -- "It's like Krypton," he said, "their environment is dying, so you might as well get it over with quickly" -- but I can't bring myself to do that. Guess I know what I'll be doing tomorrow night ...

A quiz

What's the most enjoyable way to spend a Sunday?

A. Cleaning out a garage inhabited by hungry, aggressive spiders that make Shelob look like Charlotte
B. Sticking metal objects into outlets to see which one gives you the biggest shock
C. Sitting at the urgent-care clinic with a feverish, miserable child for five hours

After today, I'd choose A and B over C.

Thursday Night Fever

After days and days of cough syrup and tissues and eyedrops, we finally thought G would be well enough to go to school tomorrow. Then her fever returned and shot up to 102.7, and we were right back where we started. Drat! I don't believe in suppressing every single fever with medication, but 102 degrees is the point at which I think the discomfort starts to outweigh the benefits. So she had some Tylenol, and yet another dose of cough syrup, and I read the first four chapters of the next Magic Treehouse book to her before bed. This one's got a character called the Ice Wizard (apparently based on Odin from Norse mythology) who wants Jack and Annie to bring back his stolen eye. That idea prompted a lot of "Ewww!" noises and giggling from G, especially when I got her teddy bear and made it say "Give me my EYE!" and "Excuse me, little girl, have you seen my EYE anywhere?" I'm tempted to sneak into her room and put a little black eyepatch on the bear, just to see what she'll say when she wakes up in the morning.

Other than reading aloud, I haven't done anything to work on her reading for a couple of weeks. I did find some good ideas for phonics games and activities in the library book I brought home last weekend, so once she's feeling better, I'll try introducing some of those. Books have helped me a lot with phonics -- I had no trouble explaining the alphabet and the basic letter sounds to her when we started working on reading last year, but I ran into trouble when it came to the phonics rules because I'd never learned them myself. According to my mother, she taught me the letters, and then I somehow started reading on my own with no further instruction. (My first-grade teacher complained that I had "no phonics skills at all," to which my mother said something like "So what? She can read!") G learns differently, though, and I think phonics are the best thing for her. I want to find some sort of assessment test so I can figure out exactly what she needs to work on -- sometimes she asks me to tell her words she ought to know, and other times she easily reads words I wouldn't expect her to know in a million years. Sneaky girl. :-)

Typhoid G

Poor G's on her second full day of being sick. All she's done this weekend is lie on the couch and watch TV. She saw Balto and The Neverending Story and about 47395 episodes of Zoboomafoo and Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends that her dad had stored on the DV-R. She perked up for a little while this afternoon and drew a picture of herself exploring the jungle, but then she crawled back under her quilt and spent some more quality time with the tube. We also finished reading Magic Treehouse #31 -- only two more to go before we're all caught up with the series. These last few are longer, and IMO, better written than the previous installments, although I'm probably prejudiced because they're also more focused on magic, fantasy and folklore, which is what I like to read about. I'm eagerly waiting for her to be ready for some of my old fantasy favorites, like the Narnia books and The Dark is Rising series.

Since she's been sick, I've had more time than usual to do my own reading. I finished reading Wicked for the second time while I was sick last week, so I went to the library for some new material yesterday. I got Peyton Place, A Wizard of Earthsea (one of those old favorites), a book on helping your child with reading, and a very interesting book called Never Done, which is a history of housework in America. After reading the chapter on laundry, I developed a new appreciation for my washing machine. I'd go insane if I had to stand over a woodstove boiling my dirty clothes all day long.

Short and bittersweet

I forgot to mention in my last post that my grandmother came to stay with us for a few days this week. She got here on Tuesday afternoon and left early this morning. I haven't seen her in two and a half years, and the last time wasn't under the best circumstances, so it was wonderful having her, even for a short time. It's never easy to say goodbye, though. When I went into G's room this morning, she looked up at me with big, tear-filled eyes and said, "I'm going to miss Grams." Me too. :*(

In other news, G's come down with a nasty cold and is coughing and sneezing everywhere. Unpleasant as this is, it's actually good timing. I've been living in dread that she'd get sick and miss out on some of the activities we had planned, but now that all the partying and visiting is over, a cold is no big deal. Plus, since it's Friday, she has the whole weekend to rest and recover. I really hope I don't get what she's got, though. I was just sick last week -- I'd like to be healthy for a while at least.

Party All The Time

It seems as if all we've done for ages is go to kids' birthday parties. Last week, G's friend Jack had his fifth birthday at Chuck E. Cheese, with all the games and flashing lights and guys in giant mouse suits that involves. Two days after that, we had G's party at Build-A-Bear Workshop. Her friends Tabitha, Jack, Sofia and Adam came, along with Sofia's little brother Benjamin, and all six of them had a wonderful time choosing, stuffing and dressing their animals. G dressed her bunny in a fairy princess costume and named it Glinda -- not after Glinda in The Wizard of Oz, but after Glinda in Wicked, which is her latest obsession. After the bears, we went to Red Robin, and G opened her presents at the table. I'm sure the staff at Red Robin was horrified to see a party of twelve with six kids under six arriving, but everyone behaved very nicely (even we parents, ha ha), and enjoyed their ice cream sundaes/cookies/apple crisp/etc.

The following day, it was off to G's friend Tabitha's house for Tabitha's sixth birthday party. G divided her time between bouncing in the bounce house and hanging out in Tabitha's playhouse with some of the other girls. They had collected a bunch of pebbles from the landscaping and were pretending to cook them in the playhouse kitchen. Good times, good times.

Yesterday was G's actual birthday, and you guessed it, we had another party -- this one a short celebration at her school, with cupcakes and goodie bags for all the kids in her class. She'd asked for a Kim Possible theme, so I got Kim Possible plates and stuffed the bags with Kim Possible stickers and 3-D glasses. Later, we took her to Rainforest Café, which is not a place I'd ever choose to eat at myself, but hey, it wasn't my birthday. She really enjoyed everything and was thrilled when the waiters brought her an ice cream sundae and sang the Rainforest Café birthday song. It's hard to believe that she's the same kid who, as a toddler, would scream in sheer terror when waiters at a restaurant sang to anyone, even if they were ten tables away.

Rainforest Café is inside the mall, so after we ate, I took her to the toy store to spend some of her birthday money. She picked out a Clikits kit with two photo frames and a little box to decorate. She loves to make any sort of craft, and is very good at it -- a talent she certainly didn't inherit from me, I can tell you. In addition to the money and the Clikits, she got a bracelet, a necklace, a Borders gift card, two new Polly Pocket sets, the last three Magic Treehouse books (we've got the whole 33-book series now ), a DVD of the first Princess Diaries movie, and the Disney edition of Trivial Pursuit. I've really been trying to get her fewer big toys because there's just no space for them in her room -- and it isn't a small room, either. We had a massive toy decluttering session a few months ago, and I'm thinking it may be time for another one. All kids should have such problems.

Bucket o' sap

G is turning six in two weeks, and I'm having serious issues with it. I went through something similar when she started kindergarten back in September, but this is on a grander scale. I guess I'm just not ready for her to be this old. *sniff* When she was a toddler, I could hardly wait for her to grow up. I wanted to have real conversations with her and read classic children's literature to her and do all the things we couldn't do yet. (I'll admit that I was also pretty excited about the idea of not changing diapers or dealing with tantrums anymore.) Now that we're there, I wish I could turn back time and have a little toddler again. I get emotional about it at the oddest moments, too. For example, just before Christmas, I replaced the small bookshelf I bought when she was two with a pair of larger units that take up an entire wall. The result made her room look like a big kid's room instead of a little kid's room, and before you could say "hysterical mother," I was all watery-eyed and quivery-lipped. Oddly, I didn't have this problem when we bought her bed, which is supposed to be the Really Big Furniture-Related Rite of Passage. For one thing, she almost never slept in her crib -- it was more of a giant stuffed-animal container han anything else -- and for another, she was still so small that she could hardly climb onto the bed unassisted. It's harder to pretend your child is still a baby when she's over four feet tall and is dancing around with an iPod and singing along to Hilary Duff, you know?

The funny thing is, last year, she angsted for six months before her birthday because she didn't want to turn five. Every night at bedtime, she'd lie there in the dark and moan, "I wish I could stay four forever! I don't like the number five!" and I would console her and tell her how cool it would be to be five and how much fun she was going to have. Now she's eagerly anticipating her birthday, and I'm a soppy ball of angst.

Anyway, one way or the other, she is going to be six soon. She spent most of November and December poring over the Birthday Express catalog like a high-school senior with a bunch of college brochures, trying to make up her mind about what sort of party she wanted. At last, we decided that she wasn't going to have a Birthday Express party at all. Instead, she's taking five of her friends to Build-A-Bear Workshop to make teddies, and then going upstairs to Red Robin for dessert. (Which reminds me that I should probably call Red Robin to arrange this. And mail the invitations. Yeah. That'd be good.) On her actual birthday, she's going to bring cupcakes and juice for everyone at school. This is a compromise -- her first choice was having a party at home for all her school and non-school friends, but I didn't think it would be a good idea to try to cram 24 kids into my living room. Scratch that: I knew it would be certain disaster. So we decided to go the two-celebration route, and she took it very well. Hmmm, maybe there'll be some benefits to having an older kid after all.