so maternal it warms the heart

Lucy has a little stuffed Elmo doll (no, he does not giggle, or tickle, or burp. He's just stuffed, with hard plastic eyes.) that is often at the center of a lot of her adventures. Today she walked into the kitchen, cradling him in her arms.
"Elmo crying. He fell on tile. So hard. Lucy make him feel better."
"Oh, Lucy," I said. "I bet he feels a lot better with you caring for him."
"Uh-huh," she said, and carried him over to the sliding-glass door. "You feel better, Elmo?"
I turned around, my heart warmed by my daughter's sweetness.
Then I heard a thunk.

When I looked back, Elmo was on the floor, his eyes having hit the hard tile.
"Oh, Elmo," Lucy said. "You fell. Lucy make you feel better." She picked him back up and shushed him.
I chuckled, then stopped. Because a minute later, she held him at arms length and deliberately dropped him on the floor. Then she hit his head against the floor a couple times to make sure he really needed someone to take care of him.

Sheesh, Lucy. Munchausen's by proxy already? And you can't even tie shoes yet.

welcome to the family

Lucy has a baby bird. It is a baby crow. She likes holding it in her hands while we're in the car. And also when we're walking in the parking lot. If I need her to hold my hand, I tell her to put the baby bird in her pocket.
Is it clear yet this is a pretend bird?
On the way home, she was talking to her baby bird. Then, she yelled, "Mama!!"
I was about to respond when she added, "Bird!!!"
Then again. "Mama...bird!!"
More indecipherable words. Then, to me, "Baby bird crying for her mama. Found her mama. Mama with her!"
"Oh, Lucy, how nice," I said. "I bet the baby bird feels much better now."
"Huh, yeah," she said.
Then a minute later. "Dada! Dada! Bird!"
"Did the baby bird find her dada, too?" I said.
"Yeah. Now have Mama and Dada."
Nice and nuclear, I thought.

But then, a minute later...
"Grandma! Grandma bird!"

John Jacob Jingleheimer...

This is a song I never heard growing up. Dyami learned it, but not "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly" or "Frere Jaque". I guess we're even.
It's got a catchy little melody* (love the "dah dah dah's" at the end) and funny words. Plus, it's kind of women's lib-ish, what with the hyphenated name.
In other words, perfect for a children's song.

Except.
Except the way "Schmidt" gets pronounced by a two-year-old. Very loudly.
I guess we won't be doing public performances any time soon.

*Is it just me, or is this a very, very odd rendition of this song? 1. It's really slow. 2. The guy is singing in a contra-bass range. All of which makes this snappy march sound kind of like a dirge. I'm very sorry to hear that Mr. Jingleheimer-Schmidt died just when I was getting to know him.
However, I like that for once a song demo isn't done with midi-horns. So that's something.

gardening, revisited

Okay, so last year, I planted a garden with much fanfare and anticipation. I got sproutlings!

And then not much more.

The onions were little mini onions. I also grew four tiny fennel plants, big enough for Lucy's Elmo doll! If he were to eat fennel!
Also the tomato plants, which I planted from seedlings. From those I got about ten tomatoes. Of which, more than half were eaten by possums.
And one strawberry (or two!) every couple weeks.
Let's not talk about how much I spent on compost/plant material/etc. It wasn't a ton, but for twelve strawberries and two tomatoes, it was Too Much.
Lessons learned: there is no "really sunny spot" in my yard, okay? There just isn't. The plants, they'll sprout, but they're just not going to go crazy.

But! I think my garden may be redeeming itself.
Exhibit A. The thyme plant that looked emaciated and mite-ridden all last summer? It has decided to stay, even after my terrible watering habits over the winter!
Exhibit B. Those strawberry plants? They, too, look fat and bushy after a whole year's growing. Yay for perennials!
Exhibit C. The kicker! I invested in heirloom tomatoes last year, which caused me to kick myself when they proved to be less-than-hardy and half-eaten by rodents. (Marsupials? What the heck are possums, anyway?) But! Today I looked around the base of my garden, and there were no fewer than six sprouted tomato plants from seeds that fell from my lost fruit last year! Thanks, non-hybrid plants! And I didn't even have to do anything to get them to come up from seed. Plus, they're heirlooms! And this time I'm going to invest in some netting/electric fencing to keep away the critters! As soon as I get around to it.

In honor of my garden, today I bought a few basil plants, a few more strawberry plants, and a mint plant*. Now I'm going to plant them all and lean back and enjoy my kitchen garden. Which has resurrected itself just in time for Easter.

* Of course, one shouldn't be too cocky. Proof of a less-than-green thumb: I have managed to kill about three mint plants. These are plants that are supposed to be indestructible. Hmmm.