building a better bedtime

Objectively, bedtime is pretty cool. Snuggles, reading, stories, lullabye.
Except. By seven-thirty, I am done. I am ready for the routine to be as simple as possible, and from experience, I know that when we do something once, it will be part of the routine from then on.

So I have kind of a blanket resistance to anything that might complicate or add to the routine.
Even if it is so sweet, so cute, and downright tempting.

For example: "Mama, I look at the stars while I go to the bathroom! See! I see stars and all the beautiful lights."
(Patient Mommy: Ahhhh, she's connecting with the night sky! Lovely!) (Not so patient mommy: Is it just me, or is she going to do this every night? (Answer: yes.))
Another example: "Mama, I'm so tired, you're going to have to carry me to bed!"
(Patient Mommy: Ah, another chance to snuggle!) (Not-so-Patient: Just move already!)

Ah, dear child, carry you? Yes. Look at the stars with you? Of course. Admire the moon's course across the sky together? Anytime!
Just not at bedtime.

As heard from the other room:

No spoons on peoples' heads!

Rules to live by, no?

all she wants to do is

"Nurse?" I asked Julia.
She didn't say yes, or no. Instead, she raised her hands up, turned circles, and stomped out some pretty fierce dance moves.
Apparently, toddlers have a new set of priorities.

feel free

Little baby, you can use my jaw or ears as handles. Yes you can. You can grab them, and shove my face to yours (not very gently), kiss me, and then let go. You can pause, and look into my eyes, and laugh, and then do the whole thing over again.

You can do that as much as you want, okay? Even if it's waaay past bedtime.

Oh, and when you throw your tiny little arms around my neck and give me a fabulous hug, you just earned yourself another minute out of the crib. As long as it's followed by more kisses.

the creepiest fairy tale ever...and that's saying something

Street musicians? Usually, I love 'em.
Today, 60-ish bearded man played flute
while children frolicked at the playground.
Not sitting on a bench--no.
Walking around, swings to jungle gym,
watching all the children watch him.

I didn't want to feel nervous,
(music is lovely at sunset, no?)
hated feeling nervous, but did anyway.

After three songs, I noticed something:
he seemed to belong to one toddler.
Immediately, I felt better. Even so:
I wanted to ask him, what gives?
Please, wear matching clothes or something.

To sum up: when choosing instruments,
please don't mimic the Pied Piper.

raised by nerds

Okay, so for Christmas, Lucy got a globe and maps, and a big hanging wall calendar with removable numbers.
I feel bad for the poor child. She was quite happy with her take, but still. When you can do most of your Christmas shopping from Creative Teaching Supplies, you know you don't qualify as the most toy-friendly parent.

However.

Oh, it's all been so cool. Like the super-injection of learning in a really fun way in our daily routine. I'm amazed by calendars. From this one little wall-charty thing, we get:

1. Math. Number recognition, decimal places, putting numbers in order, reading a chart.
2. History. Do you know how many books on Abe Lincoln I sorted through today? Because President's day is coming up! (People, before yesterday, I didn't even remember what month President's day was in)
   
3. Zoology. What is a groundhog, anyway? What does it look like? What does it eat?
4. Relationships: Whose birthday comes when? What card should we make for them? How can we celebrate them?
   
5. Crafts: When it's on the calendar and we talk about it, I actually make the effort to do holiday specific crafts. Imagine.
6. Religion: Our religion, like for Christmas. Others' religions, for Hanakkah and Kwaanza. Why we don't celebrate those holidays, why others do, what we believe, and don't believe about God.
   
7. Geography: Where is the groundhog for Groundhog's day? Where was Washington born? Where does your Aunt Katie live whose birthday is in April?

Note: I haven't even started talking about the ostensible purpose of calendars! And we already did a full month's worth of subjects.

I might sound like I'm bragging here, but I'm not. Because besides purchasing a calendar, I'm not doing much except trying to find library books about holidays. I'm excited about what we're learning, but mostly, I'm just excited by how easily all this stuff flows. I ask a few questions, Lucy adds some more, and pretty soon we're watching videos about Punxsutawney Phil and learning that groundhogs eat almonds, fruit and rabbit pellets (not bugs). I don't purchase curriculum, or think about grade level, I just get to explore and watch my child learn about the world.

Today, Julia was walking to the drugstore with me, and she bent over, and started examining some corrugation in the sidewalk. It had a few wisps of dried grass in it, and she was fascinated.

May that kind of fascination with the world never get lost. May I figure out how to nurture it and help it grow.

puppetry

We have many puppets. Lucy prefers that we give them all names and distinct voices and remember those voices consistently, which is above my skill level.

Julia, however, just wants to hug them. Briefly.

She brings me a puppet: an angel fingerpuppet, say. Then she shoves it onto my index finger and waves at it. I wiggle the finger. She laughs, and cradles the little angel in her arms, hugging it (even though it's far to small to get much huggage).

My heart melts. Because the baby is hugging the tiny little sweet angel puppet!

Then, she lets go, smiles and waves again, then signs "All done", pulls the angel off, and throws it on the floor.

Then she goes and gets the next puppet.

Surely, a puppet is just a puppet, right? And not a symbol for her approach to love/affection/relationships? Right?