Quick Quip #3

Yesterday, I was wearing those fascinating advancements in women's footwear - the socks that cover just your toes so you can wear clogs without looking like a dork but still keep your tootsies warm in the process... Anyway, I was sitting shoeless on the trampoline while Lily pranced and jumped about. She caught sight of my feet, stopped in her tracks, and said, "Are those my socks?"

Wild Kingdom

I can't imagine anything better than a zoo for tapping into a child's curiosity and sense of wonder about the world. Have you ever stopped to think about what percentage of children's books are about animals? It's huge. And a zoo brings all the pictures from all the books to life. All those exotic animals, in the flesh. Sights and sounds (and yes, smells) galore.

So it was that we spent Easter Sunday at the Ft. Worth zoo. Yes, I confess we skipped out on church, but clearly we were in the presence of the master. Just ask Noah.

The zoo had the usual assortment of animals, and we lucked out, seeing most of them in action. The elephant spraying itself with water from its trunk ("Elephants don't take baths!"); the mountain lion tossing a gourd about ("It's playing with a pear!), the male lion complying with the audience's desire for theatrics and roaring loudly, multiple times (That one inspired a loud cackle from Lily). She decided the river otter's wet fur gleaming in the sunlight bore a striking resemblance to "a rainbow". At one point she yelled, "Look what I found," spying the rhinos out of a corner of her eye. The bug also took great delight in tracking the assorted paw and claw prints that the zoo cleverly embeds in their concrete walkways.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Lily took as much (if not more) delight in the zoo choo-choo as the animals, but I'll keep telling myself the animals will be the memory that sticks with her.

But my favorite Lily-ism from this weekend happened to take place not at the zoo, but at the hockey game we attended the day before. In celebration of the upcoming Easter holiday the Dallas Stars team trotted out another member of the wild kingdom - sort of - in the form of a rabbit mascot. To which Lily said, "Look - the bunny Easter!"

Yikes!

I do believe I heard the most jarring words a mother can ever expect to hear from her little baby girl this morning. No, it wasn't "I hate you." She's already tried that one out on me, and as unsettling as it was, it didn't come ANYWHERE CLOSE to what she uttered today. No, on our way to school this morning, Lily began speaking of her classmate Ben - the cute little toe-haired boy who announces Lily's arrival to the class each morning and runs over to give her a hug. She was talking about this little Lothario, and then out of the blue asks... "Can he sleep with me?" The word "NO" shot out of my mouth faster than a bullet from Wyatt Earp's gun. Of course I had insinuated my adult brain into her innocent request, but my mind made the mental leap before I could stop it. Lily and I subsequently compromised, and I left a note for Ben's mom in his cubby to see if the kiddos could have a play date sometime soon. I declined to mention Lily's other request.

A Lesson Learned

A word of wisdom to the moms-to-be out there. I've learned a lesson. Learn yours the easy way and take this piece of advice from me now.

No matter how cute you think it is when they're 18 months old, do not - I repeat do not - teach your young daughter to "shake her booty."

It's not as cute when they're four.

Being a Surreptitious Easter Bunny

If I were to list my "Top Ten Things About Being a Parent", holidays would definitely rank on the list. What better excuse to relive your own childhood than by going gangbusters when Halloween, Christmas, birthdays, Lumpy Rug Day and Dandelion Day (both May 3, 2008, for the record) roll around?

The upcoming Easter holiday has me a bit flummoxed however. I was looking forward to a weekend spent in Dallas and Ft. Worth, and not just because we'll be heathen-free (no dogs) for two days. We're all geared up to bring Lily to her inaugural Stars hockey game on Saturday and then take in the Ft. Worth zoon on Easter Sunday.

Alas, the weekend away will present some logistical challenges when it comes to the Big Bunny's visit. I already made the mistake of dragging the Easter baskets out of the dusty garage bin and putting them on the top shelf of the pantry. The bug immediately spotted them of course. I brushed that off by saying I was getting them out so the Easter Bunny could fill them up. Never mind that when I was a kid, we didn't leave baskets out to be filled. No, when I was a kid, the Easter Bunny did full-service delivery, baskets and all. Changing of the times, I guess. Self-service is in, right? If you don't agree, just try to find a gas station attendant to fill your tank these days.

No, I have to devise a way for the Easter Bunny to zero in on Lily, even though we'll be staying the night in a hotel. And making sure she doesn't spot any evidence on the trip up. I think I have to rule out colored hard-boiled eggs. Just the thought of the odor that will ferment in the back cargo area during the 3+ hour car drive north makes me a little nauseous, and that's not even factoring in the likely case of salmonella that would result from eating said eggs.

I also envision the Easter chocolate melting into the green and purple plastic "straw," but actual food poisoning is probably less of a concern with that. Then there's the challenge of sneaking the basket into the hotel room. And then explaining how the Easter bunny found her in Dallas. And then convincing her she cannot eat all the candy on the drive back to Austin that afternoon. Sugar rushes and car seats are NOT a good combination.

I think I'm beginning to understand why the expression "home for the holidays" came about. Maybe it's not too late to do just that.

In the Genes

There must be something in the genes, or perhaps more aptly, something in that second X chromosome that all humans of the female persuasion are bestowed with.

Yesterday, the bug and I were at the pediatrician's for the second time in three weeks (diagnosis: secondary sinus infection resulting from the flu).

As per usual, the nurse asked Lily to step up on the scale. Lily promptly followed orders...but she kicked off her shoes first!

The bug is currently weighing in at at 34 lbs.

Wanted: Ph.D in Parenting

I'm caught in the vortex - and I can't get out.

It started off innocently enough five years ago with "What to Expect When You're Expecting," pre-required reading for any first-time preggie. Then we moved to Pregnancy 101 ("The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy") then Parenting 101 ("The Everything Mother's First Year Book"). Because I enjoyed the first installment so much, I also had to have "The Girlfriend's Guide to Surviving the First Year of Motherhood" and I wanted to try a memoir on for size ("Operating Instructions") by Anne Lamott. And since I was a "special case," I just couldn't live without "Single Mothers by Choice" AND "The Complete Single Mom."

It was a wonder I actually had time to do any mothering; I spent so much time reading about it.

Then came the books I received as presents - the offbeat keepsake book "Baby's First Tattoo" and one of my first Mother's Day presents, "The Seven Stages of Motherhood."

There was the time I was feeling non-committal, opting only to read a parenting magazine instead of the book. But the article linking sedentary lifestyles with childhood diabetes prompted me to run out and get "The Wiggle and Giggle Busy Book: 365 Ways to Keep Your Child Active." At least it was called something like that.

During a June Cleaver-like moment, or maybe Carol Brady, I purchased "The Book of New Family Traditions." Then, following a more Joan Crawford/Mommie Dearest like moment where the bug and I both erupted in screams followed by tears, I opted for remedial parental education and bought a entire trilogy of parenting books at once - "The No Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers," "The No Cry Discipline Solution..." and "Momfidence."

The last book amped me up with so much confidence - like a Red Bull and vodka of motherly self-esteem - that I was actually was in self-imposed rehab for several months. No parenting books to interrupt my preferred bedside reading of cozy mysteries and monthly book club selections.

Until...he moved in.

Yes, my beloved. My adored. Peter. The father in training.

The guy who majored in PSYCHOLOGY.

Suddenly, it wasn't just me obsessing about being a better parent. He has been more than happy to join in, and contribute to, the insanity.

Now, the Elizabeth Pantley (mom-authored) book on my nightstand is competing with his Dr. Kazdin (what else, a pyschologist-authored) book. We spend our dinner table discussions debating the merits of sticker charts vs. other childhood behavior training models. We evaluate the seemingly infinite number of time-proven" methods of getting your child to bed in an orderly manner. Lily has, for the record, disproven all the "expert" theories and continues to evade bedtime like the plague.

Yes, the parenting equation has become infinitely more complicated with Peter in the picture. But it's also easier - how wonderful to know someone's got your parenting back. And it's infinitely better. For me and for Lily.

And I don't need a book to tell me that.

Tom and Jerry, erhhh, Julio?

"You know what?" Lily offered up at dinner the other night, in the midst of eating an entire corn cob.

"There was a mouse at school today, and he ate corn, and he said he liked the corn in Spanish."


Peter and I looked at each other, smiles behind our own cobs. "Really? In Spanish?"


"Yes. He said..." Unintelligible noises follow.


"What was that again?"


More Lily noises...


"Sine qua non?"


Funny, they hadn't been teaching Latin in school that I knew of...


More noises...


"In-a-gadda-da-vida?"


"Couldn't be. We don'teven have any Iron Butterfly music."


More noises...


"That didn't sound like Spanish. Maybe Esperanto?"


Anyone know of any good Spanish immersion materials for preschoolers? Or an exterminator? Reminds me, I need to notify the daycare about their rat infestation.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Riding in the car to school today, Lily volunteered, "I like today."

"You do?" I asked. "Why is that?"

"Because it's a new day," she replied.

Good reminder that we can all benefit from...