I got the idea from a Montessori schooling book. Ada and I enjoy it.
“I spy something that begins with [insert sound ssss].”
“Snake!”
“Very good! What do you spy?”
“I spy something that begins with ‘tray’.”
“Is it train?”
“It is!”
We have lots of fun and we’re learning!
We visited Serena today, and played nicely for a while. Then, as naptime approached, Ada’s proximity began to wear on Serena who started to shout every time Ada touched her. Taking her cue from that, Ada proceeded to touch, tackle, and hug Serena at every chance.
This prompted screams and kicking from Serena, (wicked?) laughter from Ada, and various instructions such as, “Serena, do not kick her–just tell her you don’t want her to do that,” and “Ada, Serena doesn’t want to be touched so you need to stop touching her,” from we mothers.
As these exchanges became more frequent, and Rachel mentioned that it was about time for Serena’s nap, I told Ada we were going to go.
“Stay, stay!” erupted from Serena and
“Can we stay and play?” from Ada.
What?! They wanted to keep this up? Okay, but no touching Serena if she doesn’t want you to, and no kicking anybody!
Next thing you know, they’re kicking and touching and things have gotten very noisy.
“Serena, if you kick people they won’t want to stay and play with you.”
“Want them to stay!”
“Okay, so don’t kick!”
And soon enough, battle erupts anew. “Okay, Ada, we’re going to go because you’re not playing with Serena the way she wants to play.”
Ada: “No, no!”
Serena: “Stay some more!”
What?! You’re enjoying each other’s company? Once more, and once again, and then we’d had enough and I hauled mine into the car, and Rachel (hopefully) coaxed Serena to sleep.
But really!
You know how you try to set your three year old up to say or do the hilarious or ingenious thing you have seen or heard in private, hoping to reproduce the astounding event in front of witnesses?
Like, Tommy, tell Grandma what you call the . . .
And then Tommy either does or does not perform as hoped?
Well, I didn’t even have to do that! Grammy and Grandaddy were visiting and Ada was a delightful chatterbox, rattling off interesting facts and stories about her various stuffed animals and it just happened to be at a lull in the adult conversation, when everyone’s attention was right on her, that Ada said:
“Bugs doesn’t want the peanuts because peanuts are soporific and they make him sleepy.”
I watched Grammy’s mouth open at soporific, and I quietly hoped Ada was going to end the sentence with sleepy to demonstrate that she knew what the word meant. When she did, Grammy was REALLY impressed.
I don’t think Ada was trying to impress (which I don’t for a moment put past her). I had never heard her use the word soporific before, so I don’t think we’d had a chance to give her the impression that it was a spectacular word. She was just chattering about her stuffed animals, you know?
I do know where it came from, though. Beatrix Potter’s The Flopsy Bunnies in which lettuce, of all things, is described as soporific.
Our friends Tim and Rachel had a baby yesterday! Their two year old spent the night with us and by virtue of returning her yesterday, I got to meet the unnamed newborn.
She was so tiny and beautiful. In fact the whole family was beautiful and glowing. I have never seen Rachel looking so happy!
Now I wish I had asked them for a camera and taken their picture because the four of them were like a renaissance painting and they all had halos. I wish I could post my mental image onto the blog, but as yet, no.
I tried to talk up the new baby with the two year old while she was with us but couldn’t tell if she was really paying attention. This one is more of a doer than a talker.
Me: Your parents love you so much and are so happy with their little girl that they wanted another one!
Little girl: (shovels more mozzarella into mouth)
So I wasn’t sure what would happen when they met. Would the little girl want her parents’ attention after staying somewhere else all night? Would she quickly get bored by the squirming addition to the family?
No, she climbed into bed with her mother and baby sister, and admired the little one fully, expressing love and that “we match” (holding her little foot up against her baby sister’s much littler foot). It was so beautiful.
I have fallen pregnant (been waiting to use that South African expression, I hope I pulled it off) and am very eager for Ada to become a big sister. This experience (to which I did not, uninvited, bring my noisy, rowdy daughter) heightened my anticipation and warmed my heart.
