Silky

It is silkworm season. Every preschool around here seems to be raising them, and Clara's Science teacher had about a zillion of them, which she offered out to any student who could supply the little grub with a steady diet of mulberry leaves. Well, we happen to have two giant mulberry trees in the backyard. I love the trees, but I don't happen to love the fact that I told people about them, because now we are feeding the entire silkworm population of the city. Anyway, Clara brought home a silkworm, aptly named, "Silky", and we have been watching it eat, poop, and grow for a few days now. I can't say that I really like the thing, since it looks like something you would eat on a survival show. I am also a bit wary of anything that doesn't try to escape its enclosure. In any case, we were excited today to see a bit of tangled thread in Silky's tub. Let's hope he/she/it cocoons sometime soon, while we still have a few leaves left on our trees.

Friendship Bracelets

Aunt Jan and Uncle Bill sent Clara a bead set for Christmas, and she has been getting it out several times a week and starting the process of making a bracelet. Her big plan is to hold a bracelet sale one day, and raise money to buy toys for herself. Until today, though, she has never actually finished an entire bracelet. You see, the beads are tiny, and it takes a good deal of time and patience to get the job done.
Today, Clara came home from a birthday party, very excited about having met a new friend. She immediately set to work on a bracelet for Brooklyn, carefully picking out each bead.
As she proudly showed me her completed project, I congratulated her for having worked at it from start to finish. Clara said, "I finally figured out why I couldn't finish any of the other bracelets. I was making them for the wrong reason. I mean, they're called friendship bracelets, not money bracelets." Nice insight into motivation, sweetie.

Sprinkler Tag

Today it was sprinkler tag and ice cream cone weather. We even heard our first ice cream truck of the year (fortunately we were already eating the aforementioned cones). I've always wondered who chooses the tinkly songs that those trucks play. This one was sending out a not-so-stirring rendition of "I've Been Working on the Railroad", which had Trevi speculating that it might, in fact, be an ice cream train.

The kids spent a good two hours running and leaping. I hope that all of these summer activities will act to balance out the sun's early arrival in the mornings. A healthy dose of sprinkler tag just might exhaust them enough that they'll sleep in past six....

Backyard Coffee and Smoothies

I suppose I spend far too much time saying, "I'll play with you as soon as I make my coffee," because Trevor has taken to luring me outside in the morning with the promise of his freshly brewed cup o' joe. "You don't need any coffee, Mummy," he'll say, "Because I can make you some in the backyard."
Like most of his nature drinks, backyard coffee is fibrelicious. It is chock full o'nuts, bolts, gravel, tan bark, and dead leaves from our poor, shriveled bamboo plant. Speaking of dead plants, check out Chad's little sticky note that he left for me on the flower pot (click to enlarge). We have been married for almost ten years now, and he knows me well enough to assume (correctly) that when he goes out of town, plants will be neglected.

A slightly more potable backyard drink is the smoothie. We actually prepare our smoothies in the kitchen, with real ingredients. Smoothie making has become a ritual part of most warm weekends, and we always retire to the backyard to enjoy the fruits (and yogurts) of our labor.
Today, it was a peach, mango, and orange blend, which we all thought was right up there with our best batch ever. And for the first time in recorded history, we all managed to finish without a single brain freeze!
And when the blender's not in use creating smoothies, we make a mean piña colada around here.

I love our backyard

Backyard season is in full swing now, so the kids' imaginations have lots of room to run around. Trevi is kind of a junk artist - he finds a use for just about everything he comes across.
Despite appearances, each item in this pile was placed there deliberately.
The jump rope handle is actually a nozzle of some kind, which dispenses soup into the orange container (which was originally designed to hold sidewalk chalk). You can tell by Trevor's mouth that the soup nozzle makes a, "chh chh chh" sound.
Although the tan bark soup was a bit too chunky for all of our tastes, we decided to eat our real dinner al fresco. And it tasted like summer.

Trevi was on a roll today

Living in our house is a bit like being trapped inside an opera, as both Chad and I tend to sing things that, in the real world, are usually just spoken. Chad, for instance, loves to make up little ditties about being stuck in traffic, Clara rewrites pop hits to fit any situation, and Trevor makes up rhyming songs about his food. As for me, I just sing whatever thought is circling in my head. Today, when Trevor informed me that he was heading for the bathroom, I sang a line or two about that - something to the effect of, "It's time to go to the bathroom, and don't forget to close the door..." Trevi said, "Mummy, you can't sing about the bathroom! That's a privacy song, and I want you to delete it!" These 21st century kids....

Later on, I noticed that Trevor's nose needed to be blown, so I called him over. He said, "That's okay, I can just suck everything back into my nose." I told him that wasn't a good idea, because it would go into his throat. We chatted about this for awhile, and he talked through his understanding of the anatomy of the whole thing. Then he said,
"Isn't imagination so cool?"
"Yes, it is. What makes you say that?"
"Well, I can't see my throat and inside my nose with my eyes, but I can see it with my imagination. It's cool that your imagination can see things that your eyes can't even see!"

$79.00

Clara desperately wanted an "American Girl" doll for Christmas. For some reason, we got one of their catalogues in the mail back in December (if I ever find out who sold our name to their mailing list, there will be retribution!) and Clara spent weeks planning her assault on Santa's wallet. Fortunately, I managed to convince her that Santa would never drop that kind of cash on one child (good thing she has no idea of the value of her friends' loot). Waiting under the tree on Christmas morning was an "Our Generation" doll (the Target version of American Girl) and Clara was thrilled. Clara and "Gracie" have heaps of fun together. The only problem is that Gracie is the same size as an AG doll, so Clara still fantasizes about the myriad of expensive accessories that she saw in the catalogue.

With beach season rapidly approaching, Clara now has her heart set on some sunbathing essentials for Gracie, to the tune of $79.00. When Clara asked me for these coveted items, I explained to her that she was welcome to buy them if she could come up with the cash. So, she wrote out a plan. On the front, the items and their costs:
On the back, her ideas for earning the money:
Too bad she's only got 13 baby teeth left....

They've been working on the railroad

Clara is not always in the mood to join Trevor in his train adventures, but when she is, life is good. Today, as they built this giant incline, they were so peaceful that I thought I might have stumbled into a parallel universe.
The ultra-steep train hill is supported by Trevi's awesome foam blocks, and held together by suretrack clips (a must-have for wooden train enthusiasts).
Oops! It seems that the railroad workers halted construction on the line somewhat abruptly. Note Thomas's shocked expression as he realizes his fate.....

Unless

I read 'The Lorax' to my class today, as I always do on Earth Day, and, despite my best efforts at keeping it together, I started to get all choked up. I tried taking long pauses and holding the book up in front of my face, but my students are not easily fooled. One called out, "Hey, Mrs. C. is crying!", which began a big discussion about why. The last time they saw me cry was during a reading of 'Martin's Big Words' - I can never get through that one dry-eyed. But I don't usually have any trouble with Dr. Seuss. I guess Al Gore and my environmental footprint are really getting to me lately. So, one of my students suggested that I was sad because truffula trees are extinct now. That comment was greeted with a chorus of,
"This is fiction! Truffula trees aren't real!", to which the extinction theorist replied,
"Maybe truffula trees are fiction, but Mrs. C. might be thinking about how she would feel if maple trees were extinct."
"Or pandas!"
"Or dragonflies!"
This kind of species speculation went on for awhile, and then the discussion turned:
"Maybe Mrs. C. is sad because the Onceler was only thinking about himself, and not about taking care of the environment."

"Mrs. C, did you ever notice how the Onceler is just like a real person? The story seems like it's fiction, but it's just like the real world."

When we got to the last page, the whole class was silent and staring. One lone hand went up.
"Mrs. C. I think we can all be the child in the story. We can make everything better."

Summer vacation may be fantastic, but the most amazing thing about being a teacher is having moments like this.

Orange Trap

A couple of days ago, Trevor started weaving a tale about a new and fabulous (imaginary) restaurant called "Orange Trap". Orange Trap, he told us, was great because they had lots of different foods and drinks made from oranges. The main thing that set Orange Trap apart from other places, though, was its dessert policy. You see, at Orange Trap, you were allowed to eat dessert even if you hadn't finished all of your dinner.

Both Clara and Trevor got very involved in developing the concept of Orange Trap, and they dreamed up all kinds of interesting facts about the place. For one, it is located in the trees next to a waterfall in Hawaii. Sounds nice, I must say. It also turns out that the "Traps" are a franchise, and Orange Trap is the best one. Apple Trap is a distant second, followed way down the line by Banana Trap, Onion Trap, and Skunk Trap.

While in the process of making decisions about dinner tonight, Trevi asked if we could eat at Orange Trap. So, we did.
Clara made each customer a menu, a word search, and a coloring page.
Trevor had fun with food coloring, making orange vanilla pudding, and orange milk.
Clara was the manager, interior decorator, hostess, and server.
We managed to scrounge up a lot more orangish food than I would have thought possible.
Orange Trap was a big hit. If they decide to open a Skunk Trap next week, though, I'm going out for burritos.

Eggcellent!

This morning, Clara's box was launched off the roof of the school, and its ovicular (I googled that word) passenger survived the ordeal. Too bad for Eggbert we are having french toast for breakfast tomorrow....

The Cat Fort

Our sideyard is a bit like one of those "adventure" playgrounds. It's full of branches, pieces of lumber, sand toys, old boxes, and a bunch of random items that are not quite worthy of taking up space in the garage, but not quite garbage either. Trevi always comes up with new ways to put this flotsam to use. Today he built a fort for the cats.
He placed a few stones on the deck, then carefully balanced pieces of wood in teepee formation, until he felt that it looked cozy and inviting. The problem of a leaky roof was remedied by the addition of an old umbrella. It gave the place a bit of color, too. The finishing touch was a sign, which, according to Trevor, reads, "This is a fort for cats and all cats should sleep here in the fort and it doesn't cost any money because it is free for cats to stay in my fort."
Apparently our cats can read, and they both appreciate a bargain.

The next time I need to mail an egg....

This week, one of Clara's homework assignments was to make something for Friday's "Egg Drop". The challenge is to package up a raw egg so that it won't break when dropped off the top of a building. Personally, I think this kind of thing should either be done at school, or left to kids who are old enough to figure it out on their own. But then, that's just my own little hang-up....I'm completely against projects that are done at home (by well-intentioned parents who just want little Joey's project to be the best one in the class). Ya, I know that it can create some nice family time as everyone "works together" toward a common goal blah blah blah, but, really, why not just plant flowers or make a cake? Why must the fruits of family togetherness be handed in to the teacher? Of course, I had to give this exact same blankety blank assignment to my own students, because, like the Leprechaun Trap, it is a tradition at our school, and I am the new kid on the block (so far be it from me to rebel in any visible way).

Today, Clara set to work on her trap. Not wanting to be a hypocrite, I asked non-leading questions, and supplied only straight information about where to find the stuff she requested. First, she asked for a box. When I sent her to the garage to find one, the one that she found was (conveniently) full of bubble wrap, and sitting next to a box labeled, 'packing supplies', which contained a pile of foam rubber slabs. Clara figured that she could fill the box with foam and bubble wrap to keep the contents safe. Wish our overseas movers had thought of that....
For a final touch of softness, Clara asked if she could take the stuffing out of a teddy bear. I gave her a piece of cotton batting instead (still kicking around from my short-lived foray into the world of quilting).
Okay, you can go ahead and call me a hypocrite, because I did suggest that she seal the box with something, so that it wouldn't pop open on impact. She automatically went for the duct tape. Atta girl!

Clara was very excited to go outside for a test run. I managed to convince her that a few high tosses onto the concrete would be almost as damaging as a fall from the roof, so she started launching the box from the deck (which is only a foot off the ground, but oh well).


Did it break?????? Oh, the suspense.......No! It did not!
We'll see how little Eggbert holds up when he takes a long walk off a short pier on Friday.
I may grumble about the project in general, but I just love taking pictures of things in mid-air. And I love the way Clara tackles challenges like this. As she put the egg back in the fridge, she said, "I'm really proud of myself, even if it breaks on Friday."

And a little Trevor moment that made me laugh:
Trevi was not enthusiastic about going to bed tonight...not sure if he napped in the car earlier with Grampy or what, but he claimed to be wide awake. I've heard a lot of different bedtime negotiations over the years, but never these ones:
"I can't go to bed because I have the hiccups. What if I pop up in the air and fall down and hurt myself?"
When I didn't go for that, he continued,
"What if I dream I'm a waterfall, and flow over the edge of the bed?"

:)

Mastermind

Clara and I love playing Mastermind together, but I've discovered that I have a completely unfair advantage over her. It's not so much age and experience that give me the edge, but rather the fact that I know excatly how her mind works. I can practically guess her four colors right out of the gate. I hope she doesn't learn to read me until her teenage years are over....

Dictionaries can be fun!

After school today, Clara went back to her post at the circulation desk, and I came to borrow some more books. One of my choices was a dictionary. I actually got the dictionary from Scholastic some time ago, and it has been sitting on the bookshelf ever since, hiding amongst the coloring books. My conversation with Clara the librarian about the dictionary suddenly morphed into a game. I named a word, and Clara looked it up. She looked up word after word. Then, she picked another word on the same page and read the sentence that demonstrated the word's use, omitting the word in question. I had to guess what the word was. Sometimes I guessed ridiculous things, and she read the sentence again, inserting the ridiculous guess. You know, as I write this, it sounds like a bogus teacher thing to do with your poor kid. But it was fun. Seriously. And Clara, bless her heart, loves the fact that she learned how to use a dictionary today.

More proof that organization is just what makes Clara tick

The blue outfit is labeled, 'Monday'. The pink and maroon is labeled, 'Tuesday'. The accessories in the center are to be worn both days.After getting dressed on Monday, Tuesday's outfit gets shifted to the left, to make room for Wednesday's outfit.
I guess it's better than leaving dirty clothes all over the floor.....

The Library

This morning, Clara was nagging me to let her invite friends over, and I was trying to stall having to pull myself together and tame my bedhead. I suggested that she read. She nagged a bit more, which didn't work, and then she resorted to begging, which NEVER works (and why, WHY, after seven years, has she not yet figured out that begging NEVER works????). I once again suggested that she curl up with a good book. She shlumped and pouted over to the bookshelf and started casually flipping through the books. And thus began the construction of a new library.
Within minutes she was completely absorbed in the task of sorting all of the books into every type of category imaginable. She hummed as she worked, and even smiled at me and said, "Sorting books feels so nice, doesn't it? It's just so good to know that they will all be in the right place." Such a totally Clara thing to say.
Of course our girl's MO is that she forms a business out of whatever it is she is currently working on. I was pleasantly surprised that this one would be a library, as opposed to a bookstore. Her late fees are a bit steep, though....$19.95 per book per day. Little does she know that she will never see a penny from this library-goer... I gave her a fake name when I applied for my library card. :)

Miss Clara

Tonight Clara put on her teacher hat (goes with her teacher genes) and quizzed Trevi on his numbers. Turns out that boy wonder has really been paying attention to The Count. Our neglected little second child knows his stuff! Proof positive that you can, in fact, learn by osmosis!
Okay, well, maybe it hasn't been entirely osmosis. Clara has been imparting her academic knowledge on Trevor since way back when, and it appears that she is darn good at what she does.
It also appears that we wear pajamas more often than not.
And as if having brilliant children isn't enough, they both finished all of their asparagus tonight.

Good, Clean Fun

Whoever first came up with the idea of "painting" using only brushes dipped in water is a complete genius. Genius.
Trevor really, really wanted to paint after school today, and I really, really, really didn't want to deal with anything remotely messy. So we got out the brushes and the water. The kids had a go at the concrete. Then, they moved on to the windows.
Clara noticed that as she painted, the sun shone through the water, and her designs magically appeared on the blinds inside the windows.
A photo doesn't really capture it (or at least I couldn't capture it...at some point I should probably read the camera manual), but we were all pretty excited to discover this new art form.
Eventually, Trevor moved on to painting toenails. Again, water beats nail polish any day of the week. No contest. This is particularly true when a four-year-old is involved.
It's hard to think of a better way to spend a Thursday than sitting in the backyard, water-painting in the lovely afternoon sun, with kids so busy enjoying themselves that they forget to start attacking one another.

Free To Be You and Me

A fair amount of naked dancing goes on around here before and after bath time. Tonight, Clara put on Free To Be You and Me, and boogied for the entire length of the album (even during the talking parts) with her towel standing in for a dance partner/ cape/jump rope/feather boa. I'm not sure this is exactly the kind of freedom Marlo Thomas was envisioning, but somehow I think she'd approve.
Another naked dancer in our house is Berbers, who needs a little help from his choreographer, Chad. The poor cat has suffered this same brand of humiliation since he was a kitten. Chad is wearing his sprint foot so that he can take off running if our footloose feline decides to revolt.

Hurricane Trevor

We try to keep our house pretty tidy. Both Chad and I enjoy being able to find things when we are looking for them, and neither of us are very fond of clutter. We have a pretty decent toy management system, whereby stuff gets stored in big baskets on big shelves. Clara and Trevor were born into our little basket universe, so they generally stick to the system, and seem to appreciate neatness as well. Of course, Clara is the standout on this one...she doesn't want anyone to move anything that she has touched. I think that's how tonight's little battle began. It's not the battle that's important, though, but rather the end result (seen here):

No, we did not have an earthquake. This was all Trevor. Apparently, he was grumpy. He and Clara were playing in her room, and they decided to have an overreaction competition about something or other; trying to outdo one another with dramatics and decibels. I told them that they needed to take a 5-minute break from one another, and play alone in their respective rooms. When I came to release them from their shackles 5 minutes later, Trevor's baskets were empty. So were his puzzle boxes, a couple of plastic bins, and his laundry hamper. Emptiest of all? His apology. "Sorry, Mummy! I was so grumpy that I had to make a big mess, but you can just clean it up."

Uncharted territory with Trevi...we've never had impulse control issues, and he has never started wildly dumping out everything in sight before this....So he did what any remorseful and clearly guilty 4-year-old would do: He ran into the living room to 'hide'.
Since he made it clear that he was not in the mood to clean up, I gave him two choices.
1. He could help me put the toys and clothes back where they belonged.
2. He could help me put the toys and clothes into bags for Goodwill, so we could give them to children who would take care of them, and not dump them all over the floor.

Thank goodness he fell for it and went for the "let's not give away hundred of dollars worth of stuff just out of stubbornness" option. That would have been a bummer. So I supervised while the baskets once again found their sense of purpose. And Trevor told me that the next time he gets grumpy and feels like dumping out baskets, he's only going to dump out the stuff he doesn't really want anymore. Hmmm. What do you do when your kids begin to outsmart you? :)