Monkey1 said that Monkey2 caught the escaped grasshopper.
A minute later, she reported that the grasshopper had bit Monkey2, who showed her finger in evidence: "The orange. He put his poison on me!"
"I don't think the grasshopper wanted to go back in the cage," I observed.
"That's his spit," corrected Dad.
"Go wash it off," I suggested, "You can have a bandaid if you want." Though clearly there was no blood, which is usually the criteria for a bandaid. (Otherwise we go through far too many bandaids in a day.)
However, my little bug scientist was only temporarily discouraged. The next day at the playground she had a whole pack of children catching crickets and carrying them around in sand buckets. The following day, three grasshoppers ended up in our cricket cage which was already getting crowded with five crickets.
Yes, my four-and-a-half-year-old calls herself a bug scientist. At a family BBQ she found a cicada nymph's discarded exoskeleton and was then directed to one of my husband's cousins, an entomologist at the University of North Carolina. They had a lengthy conversation, and she came home with a string of big words and a plastic cup full of the exoskeletons.
The next evening my husband found a live cicada nymph on our sidewalk, put it in Monkey2's bug box, and by the next morning, it had climbed out of its skin and now looked like a giant fly. She was enthralled.
Ever since, a terrorized scream of "A bug!" from Monkey1 has Monkey2 charging to the scene proclaiming, "Out of the way! I'm a bug scientist - I'll pick it up!"
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
The Missing Months
While I was MIA, on this blog I've missed writing about
my tenth anniversary of leaving Vermont,
Vacation Bible School, with both Monkeys participating and me leading the preschooler craft activity,
being so sick that I'd take a rest on the sofa and wake up to find the Monkeys had given each other and me a pedicure, or painted the front doorstep purple, or made a snack of pretzels, yogurt, and jam and then abandoned it in favor of marshmallows and chocolate chips,
a family beach vacation, with 30 members of my husband's family,
an earthquake,
my addiction to the 39 Clues series,
Monkey1's obsession with Harry Potter,
Monkey2's cicadas, grasshoppers, and crickets,
the ins and outs of getting a city building permit,
Monkey1 starting first grade,
Monkey2 starting a second year of preschool and having a teacher her sister had two years ago,
major car trouble the second week of school,
the ten year anniversary of September 11th,
grappling with the concept of buying Halloween costumes because I'm still not well to sit at my sewing machine,
...
It all lands me here. 17 weeks pregnant, tired, pretty much over the puking several times a day, craving Popeye's chicken, biscuits, and coleslaw OR iHop's crepes stuffed with omelets. Knowing our lives will change all over again when we welcome a Monkey3, probably the week of Saint Patrick's Day, when we already have three out of four birthdays, mere weeks before my husband and I mark 10 years of marriage.
my tenth anniversary of leaving Vermont,
Vacation Bible School, with both Monkeys participating and me leading the preschooler craft activity,
being so sick that I'd take a rest on the sofa and wake up to find the Monkeys had given each other and me a pedicure, or painted the front doorstep purple, or made a snack of pretzels, yogurt, and jam and then abandoned it in favor of marshmallows and chocolate chips,
a family beach vacation, with 30 members of my husband's family,
an earthquake,
my addiction to the 39 Clues series,
Monkey1's obsession with Harry Potter,
Monkey2's cicadas, grasshoppers, and crickets,
the ins and outs of getting a city building permit,
Monkey1 starting first grade,
Monkey2 starting a second year of preschool and having a teacher her sister had two years ago,
major car trouble the second week of school,
the ten year anniversary of September 11th,
grappling with the concept of buying Halloween costumes because I'm still not well to sit at my sewing machine,
...
It all lands me here. 17 weeks pregnant, tired, pretty much over the puking several times a day, craving Popeye's chicken, biscuits, and coleslaw OR iHop's crepes stuffed with omelets. Knowing our lives will change all over again when we welcome a Monkey3, probably the week of Saint Patrick's Day, when we already have three out of four birthdays, mere weeks before my husband and I mark 10 years of marriage.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
All Creatures Great and Small
The safety barricades blocked off half the school parking lot. There were dogs on leashes everywhere. And a hedgehog in cage, a hamster hiding under his bedding, two frogs in small aquariums, two gerbils, a bird in a cage, ... it was the Feast of St. Francis and the annual blessing of the pets.
Monkey2 had her two crickets and grasshopper in their box, and she had brought Monkey1's Zuzu pet. I think Monkey1 was pleased to have her battery-operated hamster. She was not shy about showing it to classmates and teachers, one of whom nicely said it was the best behaved of all the pets there.
The cricket and grasshopper cage suffered such earthquakes in the car ride and being carried about in the school yard that Monkey2 decided to clean it out upon our return home. During the grasshopper's transfer to another bug box, he made successful a bid for freedom. Monkey2 was upset. I consoled her that St. Francis would watch over him. The crickets were much more docile, and I think they are happier without the grasshopper in their cage. Certainly they spend less time hiding under their egg carton houses.
By evening, the Monkeys had captured a half-dozen slugs in a bowl.
Apparently our postage-stamp-sized backyard contains plenty of pets.
Monkey2 had her two crickets and grasshopper in their box, and she had brought Monkey1's Zuzu pet. I think Monkey1 was pleased to have her battery-operated hamster. She was not shy about showing it to classmates and teachers, one of whom nicely said it was the best behaved of all the pets there.
The cricket and grasshopper cage suffered such earthquakes in the car ride and being carried about in the school yard that Monkey2 decided to clean it out upon our return home. During the grasshopper's transfer to another bug box, he made successful a bid for freedom. Monkey2 was upset. I consoled her that St. Francis would watch over him. The crickets were much more docile, and I think they are happier without the grasshopper in their cage. Certainly they spend less time hiding under their egg carton houses.
By evening, the Monkeys had captured a half-dozen slugs in a bowl.
Apparently our postage-stamp-sized backyard contains plenty of pets.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Carrots
My husband sent the Monkeys outside before breakfast to check on the carrots. They came back with one the size of my little finger and several smaller ones. Evidently we should have been watering them more. However, they tasted DELICIOUS!
This prompted Monkey2 to propose a Carrot Festival when they are big enough. There will be carrot cupcakes, carrot cake, carrot pancakes...
"Carrot soup," added Monkey1.
"...and carrot ice cream," finished Monkey2.
This prompted Monkey2 to propose a Carrot Festival when they are big enough. There will be carrot cupcakes, carrot cake, carrot pancakes...
"Carrot soup," added Monkey1.
"...and carrot ice cream," finished Monkey2.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Reading Aloud
The day after the Fourth of July I started reading the pile of kids' books we bought at the library sale before the parade. $4.50 plus a 50 cent donation, so no one had to worry about exact change, yielded nine Magic Tree House books, two Junie B. Jones books, a talking Barbie dictionary that turned out to have a loose connection, and one Abby Cadabby book.
Monkey2 really seemed to enjoy listening to Junie B. Jones, a series about a kindergartener. In one book her baby brother was born, and when grandma came home from the hospital reporting that he was a cute little monkey, Junie took this literally and proudly reported to her class that her baby brother was a baby monkey. Okay, cute. BUT heavens is it ungrammatical!
The book is written approximately as a kindergartener would talk, and while this creates a very convincing character, it is impossible for me to read aloud. I keep correcting the grammar as I go. Not in my head, mind you, but aloud, on the fly, as I read this book aloud for the first time.
Junie B., you are not coming home with us. Dr. Seuss' fragments are one thing, but I simply can't stand this. Correct language usage comes from hearing and reading it used properly.
Monkey2 really seemed to enjoy listening to Junie B. Jones, a series about a kindergartener. In one book her baby brother was born, and when grandma came home from the hospital reporting that he was a cute little monkey, Junie took this literally and proudly reported to her class that her baby brother was a baby monkey. Okay, cute. BUT heavens is it ungrammatical!
The book is written approximately as a kindergartener would talk, and while this creates a very convincing character, it is impossible for me to read aloud. I keep correcting the grammar as I go. Not in my head, mind you, but aloud, on the fly, as I read this book aloud for the first time.
Junie B., you are not coming home with us. Dr. Seuss' fragments are one thing, but I simply can't stand this. Correct language usage comes from hearing and reading it used properly.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Summer Fling
Day 1
This year on vacation we got a deal on an eight person SUV - hey we could take our family and my sister's family on field trips! It turned out to be a black, tinted-windows, Suburban. Seriously? It looked like the Secret Service lost one of their presidential vehicles.
When we opened the trunk space to stow our bags, the Monkeys decided to test this entrance, flinging themselves over the backseat and, like any kid on a school bus, claiming the last row. I opted to climb through from the passenger doors to put in the carseats, and I simply could not believe how easy it was, and how much room I had to maneuver. Remember, I'm used to installing carseats in a Golf!
Way up front, it took five minutes to figure out all the seat adjustment buttons on the lovely black leather seats. And I had so much leg room! No kneecap bruising against the glove box in this vehicle.
Day 3
The Monkeys have fevers of 100 to 102, Monkey2 since about 3 a.m. the day we left home. So the third day of this and our vacation we took them to a walk-in clinic. Monkey2 perked up and was singing little songs the whole time, while Monkey1 fell asleep on my lap waiting for the strep test results to come back. No strep, no ear infection, just fevers, minor sore throats, and in Monkey1's case, throwing up on Mom in the middle of the night. The doctor told me "Popsicles and Tylenol," while according to Monkey2, her prescription was "Popsicles and Jello."
Since grandma does not, strangely enough, keep Popsicles or Jello in her house, I got to drive the Suburban to the grocery store.
It needs a back up camera.
Being so high up is amazing.
It handles great, the turns, the acceleration, the braking, and it is really kind of fun to drive.
To park the beast, I chose a spot far away from the store and other vehicles and did the easy pull through one spot into the next one maneuver. I did get between the parking lines on either side of the vehicle, but not sure where the front end ended, I landed with an empty four feet of space in front of the vehicle, with the back end hanging a corresponding four feet into the parking space behind. The tires were all in one parking space at least!
Day 8
Sign of True Love: my husband backed the Suburban into an airport parking spot, so I could pull out going forward. He left us today, and we'll stay another week.
Day 9
I got to try the Suburban on dirt roads. A family gathering way up in the hills gave me a road test of hairpin turns, speed limits that would suddenly fluctuate from 50 mph down to 25 mph through the center of tiny towns, up and down steep inclines, on wet soft gravel, and no I did not have to use four-wheel drive.
Dude! It's a truck! It was awesome!
I couldn't help noticing that almost all the other vehicles at my uncle's house were Subaru cars. Sigh - now I'm the city girl that uses a truck on a glorified driveways.
Day 13
I took the Monkeys to outdoor church today, Saint Ann's Shrine up in the islands. There's a roof for shade but no walls.
The drive up to nearly the Canadian border was fine, but I felt like a complete klutz trying to park the Suburban in the grassy make-your-own-parking-spot area. Was it better or worse that the vehicle had local license plates?
Day 15
"Good-bye truck," I said fondly.
"It's not a truck," said Monkey1.
Until this vacation I would have agreed with her. A truck has utility, "an eight foot bed that never needs to made," says a country singer.
But eight-person people hauler that it is, the Suburban drives like a truck. And I enjoyed it. On vacation, where I was mostly driving it on wide roads in rural areas, I could enjoy its power. I know this is the wrong vehicle for my normal life, congested highways, narrow lanes due to road construction, and parallel parking this in Old Town? Forget it! Our Golf is the best utility vehicle for us where we live.
This year on vacation we got a deal on an eight person SUV - hey we could take our family and my sister's family on field trips! It turned out to be a black, tinted-windows, Suburban. Seriously? It looked like the Secret Service lost one of their presidential vehicles.
When we opened the trunk space to stow our bags, the Monkeys decided to test this entrance, flinging themselves over the backseat and, like any kid on a school bus, claiming the last row. I opted to climb through from the passenger doors to put in the carseats, and I simply could not believe how easy it was, and how much room I had to maneuver. Remember, I'm used to installing carseats in a Golf!
Way up front, it took five minutes to figure out all the seat adjustment buttons on the lovely black leather seats. And I had so much leg room! No kneecap bruising against the glove box in this vehicle.
Day 3
The Monkeys have fevers of 100 to 102, Monkey2 since about 3 a.m. the day we left home. So the third day of this and our vacation we took them to a walk-in clinic. Monkey2 perked up and was singing little songs the whole time, while Monkey1 fell asleep on my lap waiting for the strep test results to come back. No strep, no ear infection, just fevers, minor sore throats, and in Monkey1's case, throwing up on Mom in the middle of the night. The doctor told me "Popsicles and Tylenol," while according to Monkey2, her prescription was "Popsicles and Jello."
Since grandma does not, strangely enough, keep Popsicles or Jello in her house, I got to drive the Suburban to the grocery store.
It needs a back up camera.
Being so high up is amazing.
It handles great, the turns, the acceleration, the braking, and it is really kind of fun to drive.
To park the beast, I chose a spot far away from the store and other vehicles and did the easy pull through one spot into the next one maneuver. I did get between the parking lines on either side of the vehicle, but not sure where the front end ended, I landed with an empty four feet of space in front of the vehicle, with the back end hanging a corresponding four feet into the parking space behind. The tires were all in one parking space at least!
Day 8
Sign of True Love: my husband backed the Suburban into an airport parking spot, so I could pull out going forward. He left us today, and we'll stay another week.
Day 9
I got to try the Suburban on dirt roads. A family gathering way up in the hills gave me a road test of hairpin turns, speed limits that would suddenly fluctuate from 50 mph down to 25 mph through the center of tiny towns, up and down steep inclines, on wet soft gravel, and no I did not have to use four-wheel drive.
Dude! It's a truck! It was awesome!
I couldn't help noticing that almost all the other vehicles at my uncle's house were Subaru cars. Sigh - now I'm the city girl that uses a truck on a glorified driveways.
Day 13
I took the Monkeys to outdoor church today, Saint Ann's Shrine up in the islands. There's a roof for shade but no walls.
The drive up to nearly the Canadian border was fine, but I felt like a complete klutz trying to park the Suburban in the grassy make-your-own-parking-spot area. Was it better or worse that the vehicle had local license plates?
Day 15
"Good-bye truck," I said fondly.
"It's not a truck," said Monkey1.
Until this vacation I would have agreed with her. A truck has utility, "an eight foot bed that never needs to made," says a country singer.
But eight-person people hauler that it is, the Suburban drives like a truck. And I enjoyed it. On vacation, where I was mostly driving it on wide roads in rural areas, I could enjoy its power. I know this is the wrong vehicle for my normal life, congested highways, narrow lanes due to road construction, and parallel parking this in Old Town? Forget it! Our Golf is the best utility vehicle for us where we live.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Summer Reading
We signed up for the library's summer reading program. As the children's librarian gave Monkey1 the form for recording books, the librarian said, "And if you read, or have read to you, ten books by the end of the summer, you will get a little prize."
I nearly choked. Ten books - we read that in a week! I managed to nod solemnly without uttering a word.
Later, reading the "more about" sheet for the summer reading program, I noticed that the program ends on August 3. Since when is that the end of the summer? No wonder the goal is so modest.
By the end of the day, Monkey2 had two books on her list, and Monkey1 was part-way through a Dr. Seuss and a DK Star Wars book. I wonder if books on tape from the library count; we're on our third time listening to "The Indian in the Cupboard."
I nearly choked. Ten books - we read that in a week! I managed to nod solemnly without uttering a word.
Later, reading the "more about" sheet for the summer reading program, I noticed that the program ends on August 3. Since when is that the end of the summer? No wonder the goal is so modest.
By the end of the day, Monkey2 had two books on her list, and Monkey1 was part-way through a Dr. Seuss and a DK Star Wars book. I wonder if books on tape from the library count; we're on our third time listening to "The Indian in the Cupboard."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)