Croissants and Strawberries

GREAT weekend at the Roy-Lewis homestead and beyond. We (or I, to be more precise) started out kind of groggy Saturday morning due to lack of sleep (big surprise), but Will suggested an early morning walk, which I agreed to after much internal grousing and grumbling. At 6am it wasn't too hot yet, so we walked for about 45 minutes until the Farmer's Market across the street opened at 7 - whereupon we procured two quarts of ripe, juicy organic strawberries, three plain croissants and a chocolate croissant.

Then we headed home for much-needed coffee and breakfast - and as much as I love a good croissant (and Madison Sourdough bakery makes the best flaky, buttery croissants in town), I stuck with my egg-white omelet and slice of wheat toast because I am doing so fabulously on my Weight Watchers plan (20 pounds gone, 7 more to do) that even croissants can't tempt me from my health and nutrition zone these days. Not even a chocolate croissant. So you know I must be feeling stellar.

So then we headed out to the mall because I wanted to look for some new summer capris to fit my svelte new figure (not being a clothes hound, I have lived in jeans for the past two years until this sweltering heat wave made me realize I need something cooler. Not being a shorts-wearing person at all, I thought I'd try capris and cargo-pants. First half-dozen I tried on -- all too big. Frankly, a great feeling. Found some at JCPenneys that fit. Think I might have a new love affair with capris. Am liking them. A lot).

Anyway, Will and Logan went off to the sporting goods store to get fishing stuff for their new excursions to various ponds, while Shay and I went to look for capris. I looked and tried on different styles and sizes, she stuffed herself with puffs, goldfish crackers and raisins and looked supremely bored whenever I asked her opinion.

So we left behind a trail of crumbs, but ended up with some new capris for me, one pair of which I wore to a cookout Saturday evening given by a couple of Will's colleagues who are moving out of Madison. Nice people, good food, beanbag tosses and a ball-game in the backyard, a park right across the street for the kids. Logan and Will had made brownies to bring (Shay, "Brown! BROWN!"), and a good time was had by all.

Then on Sunday morning, we headed off to JenEhr farms in Sun Prairie for some local, organic strawberry picking. Longer drive than we expected, but definitely worth it. Each family or group is assigned a row, designated by flags, so you're not getting a row that's been overpicked or anything. We stayed about 45 minutes only, but got a large flat of strawberries to bring home.

Will qualfies as the main picker - Shay was too busy eating the berries, Logan was too busy yelping and squaking about them, and I was too busy taking pictures. So we ran a few more errands after that, then after lunch and the designated post-lunch 'quiet time' Shay and I went to the store, and then Logan and I made a loaf of strawberry bread.

Logan really seems to love helping in the kitchen - lately he has been wanting to help make and pack his lunch for preschool, or make his own sandwich or help put out the breakfast things. And he LOVED making the strawberry bread (he could eat strawberries with every meal if I'd let him) - he thoroughly enjoys getting stuff organized, measuring flour and nuts, stirring things, etc. He was anxious the whole hour the bread was baking and kept wanting to check on it.

So I told him he could have a piece after dinner for dessert, which he eagerly awaited, and he proceeded to eat his piece with rather fatigued enthusiasm (it has been a busy and long weekend) -- but then he requested another piece "without strawberries."

Huh?

I think I'm going to try and do a baking project once a week (okay, realisitically, every other week) because I'm not entirely sure he gets the whole concept of what making bread and muffins is all about - i.e., that you mix the ingrediants and bake them and actually get a whole new thing. He likes the process now, but I think the result is still a little weird to him (strawberries IN the bread? what's that about?). So maybe if we make blueberry muffins or zucchini bread every so often, it'll start to click a little better and he'll enjoy the product as much as the process.

Anyway, both kids hit the sack right at seven, which is the singular benefit of their 5:00am routine of "I am AWAKE. I am AWAKE and ready for the day! Would you read me this book? Can you? Huh? Did I tell you I am AWAKE? That means you too must be AWAKE. Not lollygagging about in blissful slumber. AWAKE. Like ME."

Ah, yes. I shall one day look upon this routine and chuckle. Maybe.

Anyway, it was a wonderful weekend hanging out together and with other people, getting some sun and wind and brownies and exercise and fresh strawberries...not to mention those fabulous new capris for me.

We're tired, happy and ready for the new week. Life is so good.

Negotiation

This morning while I was standing on a chair cleaning the ceiling fan:

LOGAN: I want to do that!

ME: No, this is something only mommies can do.

LOGAN: No, it isn't.

ME: Yes, it is.

LOGAN: (snotty tone) No, it ISN'T!

WILL: Logan, you need to stop that. That's called back-talk.

LOGAN: No, it isn't.

WILL: Yes, it is. We don't like back-talk. And when you do things Mommy and Daddy don't like, they're less inclined to give you what you want.

LOGAN: ......

ME: Did you hear that, Logan? When you do things we don't like, then you don't get what you want. Do you understand?

LOGAN: Can I have a piece of chocolate?

Long and Sass

May 3, 2009

May 11, 2009

Definition

On the car trip home from East Towne Mall this afternoon:

Logan: Hey, Mom. Do you know what a lung is?

Me: What's a lung, Logan?

Logan: A lung is a kind of crab.

News to me.

The Roy-Lewis Fire Brigade

Photos from May 31, 2009
A new firetruck and fire-fighter raincoat = fun!

Disco Fever

Shay is a disco ball. She is bright and shiny with thousands of little mirrors that reflect everything around her. She swirls and twirls around, sparkling her myriad lights onto everyone she encounters, mesmerizing and glowing. Her blue eyes rival the ocean with their multiple shades and hues, her lashes are long, thick and spiky, her skin is pink cream, and her grin displays two large, perfectly white and square front teeth.

Her hair is a bit of a debacle. It is straggly, sparse and flyaway, with a tendency to frizz in the back. I cut it myself a few months ago in the back because some of the strands had actually gotten matted together. But it curls in random directions, flips up here and there, fuzzy and wavy, doing its own thing without much care for conformity. Rather like its owner.

Shay chortles. She doesn't giggle. Never has. When she is amused or happy, she emits a series of low, long chortles - heh, heh, heh - that inevitably prompt others to do whatever necessary (tickling, nuzzling, teasing) to keep the chortles coming. Her chortles are frequent and loud, evidence of both a sunny disposition and an extroverted, curious and affectionate personality that makes her approach babies with a loud "Hi!" while waving her pudgy little hand in their faces.

While cautious around strangers, once you have passed her inner acceptance test, she bestows upon you an unlimited amount of warmth and enthusiasm, which sometimes translates to squeezing your face between her hands and issuing a squeaking, "Ohhhh," much as one would do with a newborn. She craves being held by people she trusts the way a fish craves water. She is relentless with her dispersal of hugs and kisses to her friends and family. She loves to hold your hand - or grip your finger tightly, as the case may be, as she holds up her hand and demands, "Walk!"

She's a talker. At her age, Logan was quieter with a less extensive vocabulary, but he had a far longer attention span than she does. (I know, they say not to compare your children, but frankly I can't compare them to anyone else). Any comparison I make is always followed by an implied, "Interesting, huh?" - with no intention of purporting that one trait is somehow better than the other. It's just...interesting. Like comparing clouds.

Shay has a lot of very intelligible words. Book, bed, nap, nurse, hi, bye, park, car, shoes, diaper, walk, man, dog, truck, bus, etc. She also has several Shay-words that are starting to disappear slowly into "proper" pronunciation, which, as with Logan, is a very bittersweet thing.

It took Shay awhile to make an effort at saying Logan's name, and when she finally did it came out as "Long" (as in, "Hi, Long!")

Sass = Shay. When she falls down, she emits a yelp and a "Sass!", though whether she's saying her name to comfort herself or chastise herself for being clumsy, I have no idea.

pink oak = pink yogurt. Usually strawberry. This morning she asked for "Gurt." I was a little sad. I will miss pink oak.

fuff = flower. Yesterday when I was putting on her clothes, she pointed to a flower on her pants and said, "Fower."

onch = lunch. I love this one. "Onch, onch!"

sim = swing. When going to the park, she points at the swing and yells, "Sim! Sim!"

yak = jacket. Or "pink yak" when she wants to be specific.

stoom = spoon

wish = fish ("Hi, wish! Bye, wish!")

When in agreement with something she used to nod and give a long, drawn-out, "Yyyyyyyeah!" which within the last week has become a still drawn-out, "Yeeessssss."

She appears to be somewhat girly. She likes the color pink. She loves to look at herself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom, putting her hands on it and pressing her button nose up to her reflection as she squeals, "Hi. Hi! Sass!"

She's kind of prissy. If she gets yogurt on her hands, she whines and extends her hand while saying, "Yuck, yuck!" and expects you to wipe it off before she continues with her meal. If there's a leaf or piece of dirt on the slide before she goes down, she announces, "Yuck!" and points at it accusingly with her little forefinger until you sweep it away. Only then does she proceed to go down the slide.

Once she saw a thin piece of bark that had somehow made its way on to our kitchen floor. She pointed at it and started saying, "Bug! Bug!" while stamping her feet and shrieking until I threw it away.

Will's nickname for her is "baby." Mine has been "Shay May," and "Shay Shay," and currently is "Shaylie," which Logan used to call her. Sometimes I mix it up with "Shaylie Ukulele." To Logan, she is "little baby" or "little cutie." She doesn't seem to mind what we call her.

Like her big brother, she is developing a love for books. She occasionally sits through a whole story, especially if it's short, like Where the Wild Things Are, but more often she wants to just look at the pictures and point out various things - and point she does, tapping her forefinger repeatedly on a picture while either asking, "Whazzat?" or stating what it is -- dog, cow, cat, baby.

She is attempting to start singing. One of her favorite songs is "Rum Sum Sum," and she loves doing the accompanying hand-motions. The first line of our standard lullaby "Hush, little Shay..." comes out sweet and melodic in her little voice. She sometimes dances with her whole body and sometimes prefers to stand and sway, cocking her head in time to the music and pumping her arms up and down.

She's our disco ball. And we love living amidst her swirling, multi-colored lights.

Logan Update

So I haven't forgotten about blogging. Life is good. Life is great, in fact. I am writing my millionth historical romance without a contract, except for the one in my head that contains the clause "publisher agrees to kow-tow endlessly to author, to inundate her with massive advances and royalties and marketing campaigns" -- but all is very, very good.

Logan has just completed his first year in the Preschool of the Arts Copper Room, which started out a little rocky considering the transition from the utterly fabulous and aptly named Rainbow Room. The Copper Room is a mixed-age room of 3 and 4 year olds who stay for two years. Logan ended up being the only 3 year old boy and therefore the youngest amidst older boys who had also been together the previous year. So it took him time to assimilate, not being naturally gregarious and extroverted, which I actually think will serve him well -- but he made especially good friends with an older boy named Micah whom he still plays with every day, according to his after-school recap.

The Copper Room teachers, Paula and Joyce, are natural teachers, and Logan has responded well to them, and gets along well with the other kids. They've done a ton of horse-related projects this year stemming from their classroom "museum" constructed in a corner of the room -- which formerly was the Copper Room Art Museum and this year has become the Copper Room Greatest Horse Museum. They've visited Madison's Museum of Modern Art to look at temporary exhibitions and a horse sculpture, they've seen shows at the Overture Center and gone to a farm for pumpkin-picking. They've celebrated birthdays, started personal journals, had sing-alongs with other classrooms, worked on art projects, learned new games and studied letters and numbers. Despite the shaky start, it's been good for all of us -- for all of us to learn to deal with a new situation and forge new relationships.

So he'll be there again next year -- his FINAL year of preschool before kindergarten. The question of exactly where he will attend kindergarten (ie, if we stay in the same apartment or move) is still up in the air, but I'm trying not to worry too much about it. So far he's done well in every new situation he's encountered, and kindergarten should be no exception.

Logan is growing up. He's learning about peer pressure and making friends (for the past nine months he has been obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine and everything related to the Island of Sodor, but suddenly within the last week he has stopped playing with his trains, no longer wants to watch Thomas videos on YouTube - which we allowed every so often - and won't wear his new Thomas t-shirt to the Copper Room. He also doesn't want to bring his Thomas swimming trunks to the Copper Room for the summer slip-and-slides and sprinkler play. Although I suspect an older boy said something about Thomas being for babies, Logan hasn't yet divulged exactly what was said or by whom.

Funny how by age four all the 'kiddy' things have already become passe - like Thomas and Sesame Street. Now the boys all seem to be into Spiderman, Batman, Star Wars and the Transformers, while the girls can't get enough of every single princess in the entire kingdom.

Because I am oddly neurotic about letting my children watch television (I have no idea why, really, I was allowed to watch reasonable amounts of TV and to this day have a rather embarrassing fondess for reality shows -- uh, that might be the source of my neurosis right there).

Anyway, so Logan has never watched much Sesame Street and certainly no Spiderman (even though I can still sing the ENTIRE Spiderman theme song by heart -- Spiderman, Spiderman does whatever a spider can. Spins a web any size, catches thieves just like flies. LOOK OUT! Here comes the Spiderman....)

As I was saying, Logan is rather clueless about all that, through no fault of his own. So I started him in a kid's Spanish class to get him started with another language, and now I let him watch learning Spanish videos or things like Clifford dubbed in Spanish. At first, he was all into it, but now he's realizing that these videos actually have English versions that he can fully UNDERSTAND, so now he's resisting the Spanish -- "But Mommy, English is the best language EVER. I don't need to learn anymore Spanish."

Uh huh. I'm standing firm. We're continuing Spanish classes and his video choices will be heavily leaning towards Spanish. Logan, you will thank me for this one day. I promise. Maybe not today, maybe not tommorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life. (Okay, by the time you're old enough to watch Casablanca, you can pick the language of your choice).

Speaking of languages, Logan has lost virtually all of his toddler-isms -- he no longer says "cuzzin" for "because", which he was doing up until last fall. I don't even remember when he stopped saying that, it just sort of faded into "because." Kind of bittersweet, I always thought that was so endearing.

And overall (with an occasional misstep) he is a great big brother to Shay. He still calls her "my baby" or says beyond adorable things like "Mommy, Shay is the cutest baby ever." He squeaks at her a lot (his version of "cootchie cootchie coo"), sometimes to her yelp of protest and is starting to understand that he can teach her things. He says words to her in Spanish and tells her to repeat them ("Shay, say agua. Say queso. Say leche" -- and when she repeats them in her sweet little voice, he gives her an encouraging, "Good, Shay!")

He reads her books when he's in the mood, though still gets irritated when she plays with his toys, and often whatever SHE'S playing with becomes the most fascinating thing in the world to him. And while he still has the (increasingly rare) unpleasant habit of knocking her over when he wants to establish his authority, he also sometimes tells her outright what he thinks of her. When she was trying to push him off his stepstool one afternoon (because she wanted "a turn") and was screeching and grabbing his legs, he responded with a calm, "You're not a very good baby anymore, Shay." Of course, they both forget the conflict within seconds.

He's good. He whines and fusses and wants his way like any four-year-old the world over, but he also listens and generally does what we ask, especially if the warning "Uh Oh" is employed with a stern look. That little phrase has been known to work when nothing else has.

Logan continues to love books -- Richard Scarry, Dr. Seuss, Thomas books, a very wide-range of classics and new books I've gotten at the CCBC sale. He's never really been much into drawing or coloring, although he does enjoy it when I bring out the art box and he does a lot of art in the Copper Room, but his biggest joy is still the athletic stuff -- running, climbing, doing the monkey bars (which he worked incredibly hard at for WEEKS before he could finally get all the way across, and now he wants to do nothing else at the park). He loves swimming, though even after five sessions of lessons he still can't get very far unless he's got his floatie-thing on. But he's fearless when it comes to learning different strokes, jumping into the water, and doing sit-dives. He's fearless when it comes to anything athletic.

Rather sadly, his interest in music has waned considerably, though I'm not sure what to attribute this to except that his interests are changing and evolving all the time, just like he is. I do hope his love of music will return and am considering ways we can better encourage it.

Likewise, he's become a bit of a picky eater, but I can't complain -- he eats virtually any fruit I put in front of him, chicken salad, ham or turkey sandwiches, broccoli, avocados, carrot sticks, hummus, cottage cheese, applesauce, nuts, green beans (that last one is with encouragement). He'd eat strawberries every day if he could and while he usually exhibits an extreme lack of interest in whatever we're having for dinner ("Mommy, this isn't the kind of supper I want") , his complaints are short-lived and he eats what he wants and then is done.

And every day, he amazes me. Every day I remind myself how fortunate we are to have been entrusted with his care and hope that we are proving ourselves worthy of him.