Spring!

After a freezing winter of Polar Vortexes, we were finally rewarded with the first day of Spring.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.  Frances and I did our annual seed planting, this year joined by Kealakai.

The girls started out by painting their pots.  Paint is supposed to be very good for seedlings, I hear. 

 (Yes, Frances is wearing her scarf inside on this first day of Spring.  We live in Boston, after all.)

Thick as thieves, these two.

Once the pots were nicely decorated, it was time to spread around some dirt.

After sprinkling in copious amounts of basil seeds, the girls watered their dirt.

Mom then did some hasty vacuuming while the big girls galumphed around and the littlest girl ate dirt off the ground.  More dirt than usual.

Then we waited for the annual miracle of seedlings.  Such joy to my heart.  I have never cared about the first day of Spring like I have since moving to Boston and having kids.  Frances even seemed to remember that this is our annual ritual.  Such joy!

Dancin' Machine

This winter, we entered the world of Kids' Saturday Morning Classes with a ballet class for Frances.  We liked having one day a week completely unscheduled (church and Sunday school clutter up Sunday), but we thought Frances might really enjoy ballet and I'd heard good things about this dance program.  I use the words "dance program" loosely.  The first class in particular more closely resembled herding cats.  One little girl spent most of the "class" standing in front of the mirrors yelling, "I have legs!"  I laughed 'til I cried, but wasn't favorably impressed.

Gradually, the kinks were ironed out; a vague sense of order was established.  I think for Frances, it is mostly an excuse to dress in pink.  But I like to think it's a good way for her to enjoy using her long, skinny self.  There's lots of prancing around.

There's a little barre work.  Picture a barre class at the New York City Ballet.  This is not that.  Every time the barre is brought out, the girls are reminded not to put their faces on the barre.  Frances's little friend Kealakai is to her right.  Keala is a big plus for the class.

Frances is demonstrating a classic ballet move called la nouille humide, or the wet noodle.

I think the props are the most fun.  Lots of scarves and streamers and hula hoops.

Maybe the best part for Frances?  At the end of every class they get a really high class stamp on their hands.   Big excitement.

Ah, well.  Frances enjoys it.  And Keala's mother, who knows more about dancing than I do, says Frances has really developed some poise over the course of the class.  So we'll keep it up, though Frances did tell me this morning that she wants a Freisian and I'm not sure if the ballerina and equestrian musculature are compatible.   She said good ol' dad could build a "wooden" (I think she meant "barn").  Mark, get out your hammer!

Fifty-Two Months of Preschooler Frances

Fifty-Two Months Fun Facts

• Reading:  Frances is just starting to pay attention to the first letter of a word and using that letter to figure out what a word could be.  Her brain is really working on puzzling this stuff out.  I'm so proud of her.  And she has become interested in the Magic Treehouse Series and can read "Jack," one of the main characters.
• Writing:  Frances can write "Frances"!  She needs some visual cues and her "n"s are rotated 90 degrees, but she's getting it.  I think there's still a bit of a disconnect between what she sees and what she can make her hand do, just as there's a disconnect for me between hearing a word in a foreign language and speaking that word, but she's getting it.
• Arithmetic: Not so much.  But I'm sure it will come, too.  I suppose I could start playing "fun" math games with her.  I'd rather go searching for unicorns, as long as we're making stuff up.

Thirteen Months of Toddler Chandler

There were four in the bed and the little one said...

Thirteen Months Fun Facts

• Language:  Not really.  But I'm not concerned about her hearing.  She gets all excited when a siren wails or a dog barks.  Chandler will get it eventually.  In the meantime, Frances is relearning all sorts of signs.
• Teeth:  Not really.  She still has the two bottoms, of course, and the two tops are further in than they were last month.  This kid's teeth have glacial timing.
• Obsessions: Pacis, naturally, and Merlin, the stuffed black Lab.  He's the black fluff in the first and second pictures.
• Firsts:  We bought her a pair of outdoor shoes (not just baby slippers) so we'll be ready for playgrounds when the weather improves.  Come on, weather!

Second Children

I had a grandmother who really preferred first-born kids.  She would freely admit it to me, a first-born.   Now that I have kids, I have to say, "What a nut!"  Second-born kids put themselves to bed!

                                    

Or at least they try.

Neglected?  Self-reliant?  Who am I to judge?

Life at my house

Why I should never bother trying to make my bed:

One looong week

Poor Frances.  During Frances's February school vacation week, Chandler had a high fever (over 104 degrees at one point) and was a Class A Fussopotamus.  No one was sleeping very much and mom was more than a little strung out.  Frances really was a trooper, sitting quietly through several phone calls to the doctors and an office visit.

The only place both kids were happy was in the bath tub.  Even Rody got in on the act.  It was the first bath Rody's had in three years, so he probably liked it too.

A blessed smile.

I suppose bathing a healthy kid and sick kid together is of questionable merit, but I figured Frances really couldn't be any more exposed to Chandler than she already was.  The doctor wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but between Auntie Jocelyn and Dr. Internet and a rash that eventually emerged, I decided it was roseola.  Not the worst, but I still don't recommend it.