Santa Shops at Market Basket
It’s true. Tiny and I saw him with our own eyes.
We were making our way down the bread and cracker aisle, when we saw Santa coming up the aisle towards us. I can’t remember if he was was wearing khakis or jeans, but he had on a bright red collared shirt underneath his everyday jacket. We’re not sure if he was trying to pass for just the average shopper, but his white hair, beard, and of course, the signature Santa hat definitely gave him away.
As he came closer and closer, Tiny watched with eyes wide open, drawing closer and closer into me. Just as he approached, she whispered, “Is that…”
But before she could finish, Santa reached into his jacket and pulled out a tightly wrapped candy cane. “Merry Christmas,” he said in a low voice meant just for us to hear. Tiny beamed as she looked at the candy cane with wonder and exclaimed, “Thank you, Santa!”
And just like that, he continued quietly on his way, unnoticed by the other grown up shoppers quickly working to fill their carts and be on their way. He had come and was gone in only a minute or so, but the happiness he gave to one little girl lingered on and on.
Yes, some day there will be questions about Santa, and there will come a time when the truth will have to be told, but not today. And not this holiday season. For now, we’ll enjoy being wrapped up in the fun and the magic of believing in Santa.
Ostracized
Tiny and Buba’s preschool teachers recently introduced the class to the book Abiyoyo, and Tiny is completely obsessed with the story. She talks about it almost every day, and both she and Buba were very excited to have me read the story to them (and a few of their classmates who snuggled up with us) on my helping day this past Monday.
Tonight, Tiny and I had the following conversation…
Tiny: And Mommy, the magician and the boy were ostracized (using the word from the book)!
Me: Oh, really? What does that mean? (I ask, testing to see if she really knows.)
Tiny: The people in the town were mad and they said, “Go away and don’t live near us anymore!” (Her summary, not word for word from the text.)
Yep, she knows. That’s one smart cookie I’ve got!
Dynamite (according to Tiny)
It’s been weeks since I’ve posted anything. Thanks for all who’ve been checking in with me through email and Facebook. Nothing major going on here. Just not enough time in the days. I’ve got lots of half written posts that I hope to finish someday soon, but for now, just a funny tidbit from today.
Tiny singing Dynamite in the bath tonight…
I throw my hands up in the air sometimes
Saying aaaaaaaa-oooooooo
Gotta Lego!
I can only imagine her interpretation of these lyrics- some cool rocker singing and building the most awesome Lego creation ever. Hee, hee, hee. As long as it makes her happy!
Getting Big
At bedtime…
Tiny: (pointing to an old bib I’d thrown in the laundry pile) Why are you washing that?
Me: Well, I need to clean it.
Tiny: And then I can wear it again?
Me: Probably not. You’re getting too big to wear that old bib.
Tiny: But you don’t want me to get big.
Me: I just don’t want you to get big too fast.
Tiny: But I want to be big as you.
Me: You will. Someday.
Tiny: Why you don’t want me to get big?
Me: Well, I guess because I know that when you grow up you’ll move away and maybe have your own family. And then I won’t see you everyday and I’ll miss you.
Tiny: And then a new family can live in this house?
Me: Why? Where will I live? Will I come and live with you?
Tiny: Yep! And then a new family can live in this house because you will live with me!
Me: (with a very big smile for my sweet, sweet girl) Thank you for saying that. I love you so much.
Tiny: And I love YOU so much!
The Giant
Tiny and Buba have a board book collection of very abbreviated fairy tales. It seems their favorite tale in the collection is Jack and the Beanstalk. They ask T to read it over and over, and in the last few weeks have started talking about the giant being in our house. I sometimes catch them tiptoeing around the house whispering, “Don’t wake the giant.” And recently they’ve talked about him hiding under furniture.
Yesterday, Tiny closed the door to the kids’ room and told me that she’d locked the giant in there. I needed to search for something in the kids’ closet, and Tiny allowed me to sneak in quickly as long as I promised not to let the giant out. As I did my searching, I could hear the kids and T talking about the giant. Then T raised his voice a bit and said, “I think I hear the giant stomp, stomp, stomping in the bedroom.” I didn’t think much of it and kept searching. Then he said it again a bit louder,”I think I hear the giant stomp, stomp, stomping in the bedroom.” All was quiet as the kids stopped all their chatter to listen. I continued searching.
The third time it was, “Ah-hem! I think I hear the giant stomp, stomp, stomping in the bedroom.” That was when I finally understood that that was my cue to make a stomp, stomp, stomping sound. And I did.
Tiny flipped out. She started crying and burst through the door to find me digging though the closet. She threw her arms around me and squeezed tight as she yelled, “GIANT! THE GIANT!” T thought she was just being dramatic, but I could tell she was truly very, very scared. I explained to her that there really wasn’t any giant, and that it was just Mommy who had made that stomp, stomp, stomping sound with my foot. I had to reiterate that throughout the remainder of the evening, until she finally seemed to understand and believe what I was saying.
Still, we made sure to throw the giant out of our house just before bedtime. No sense in having him stick around and potentially keep us all from having a good night’s sleep.
reanbean Tiny: gymnastics class me time shopping splurge
by reanbean
4 comments
Natural Talent & New Earrings for Me
It was last August when we took Tiny and Buba to their first ever gymnastics class. It was a tryout class to see whether or not they would like gymnastics and whether or not we would like that particular gym. Throughout the class, the coach kept praising Tiny, and before we left, she asked which gym we were transferring from. I told the coach that my children had never taken a gymnastics class before, and she responded by telling me what a gift Tiny had for the sport. I suppose that should have made me feel proud or excited, but again, this was a tryout class, and I wondered if the coach might be saying that just to ensure that we would sign the kids up for some lessons. Which we did. A whole academic year’s worth of lessons.
And it turned out that the coach was completely sincere in her comments. Tiny happens to be naturally talented when it comes to gymnastics. She walks the low beam like it’s four feet wide (and has even attempted some jumps and forward rolls on the beam), she performs skills on the trampoline exactly as the coach demonstrates without further explanation (tuck jump, half jump turn, seat drop, stand up, ta-da!), and she can jump up to a low bar and flip herself over (or just hang upside down for a while) all by herself. She has amazing confidence when it comes to learning new gymnastics skills and will try, try again until she gets it.
Still, today, I was caught a little off guard when the coach suggested that we switch Tiny to a different class for the fall. She and Buba are currently singed up for a three-year-old class (they’ll be 3.5 in September), and she recommended that Tiny go into a class for advanced four-year-olds. The coach didn’t push it, but she did suggest that Tiny might be bored in the three-year-old class (something we’ve seen just a little bit of in her current class, but I haven’t found it to be a big problem).
I think it’s great that Tiny is so capable when it comes to gymnastics, but I’m not sure I believe that at three-years-old she’ll be better off grouped with older kids who are similar in ability that she would be with her own peers who still need assistance with skills that she’s mastered. I can’t quite explain it, but something just doesn’t sit right with me about putting her in that advanced class. Perhaps, if the class was multi-aged, I’d feel differently. I just don’t know. What would you do if this was your situation?
***********************************************************
My me thing this week was completely unplanned. I took the kids with me to Kohl’s on Wednesday to pick up just a few things- a Father’s Day gift, a graduation gift, and a few cards. But while looking for the graduation gift, I spotted a pair of sterling silver, daisy-like stud earrings. They were 40% off (isn’t everything always on sale at Kohl’s?), and I had an additional 30% off coupon (yay!). I didn’t need them. I haven’t worn earrings on a daily basis in years. But there was something so simple, and beautiful about these earrings, that I decided to splurge and treat myself to them. Now I just have to remember to put them on in the morning when I put on my other jewelry. No sense in having pretty, new earrings if they’re just sitting in a box!
Hope for Spring
Today was Buba and Tiny’s last day of their drop-off playgroup. It’s a group for 2 year olds, and now that they’re 3, it’s time for us to move on and make space for some newcomers. We have just two more music classes left before the session ends, and we won’t be signing up for the next session (not because we didn’t love it, though). Last week, the music teacher mentioned that there were only two more classes left, and Tiny picked up on that. Tonight, at bedtime, we had the following converstaion…
Tiny: What we gonna have after night night?
Me: You mean tomorrow?
Tiny: Yep.
Me: We have music class tomorrow.
Tiny: Oh! And there just two more left?
Me: That’s right.
Tiny: What we gonna do after that?
Me: Well, we’ll hope for spring, I guess- warm weather and sunshine so we can play outside.
Tiny: I’m so esited (excited)! I can’t wait to see grass and sticks and I want to push my stroller in a walk. Can I put my baby in a stroller and walk?
Me: Yes, when the snow is all gone and we have some warm weather, you can do that.
Tiny: Oh! I’m so exited!
I’m definitely with her. I’m so excited for spring to come. We’ve had a few sneak peeks here and there, and our 7+ feet of snow has melted considerably. We still can’t see the front yard, but I’m hoping a few more days above 40 degrees will do the trick.
Pieces
There was a point during Tiny and Buba’s first year when our house was just full of big toys/baby equipment- two infant swings, two bouncy seats, two ExerSaucers, and a jumperoo. And in case anyone has forgotten, our house is on the small side (roughly 900 sq/ft). I was so happy when we finally sold the last of them.
But now, we seem to be dealing with the exact opposite problem. Almost all of their favorite toys come with a thousand pieces. The play kitchen, tea set, the Duplo blocks, the Little People toys, the puzzles, the doctor kits, the baby bath sets- can’t you just picture all the pieces? And, of course, these pieces end up all over the house.
Buba and Tiny (as I’m sure most almost three year olds do) often take out a toy with lots and lots of pieces and then don’t put it away before taking out another toy with lots and lots of pieces. Sometimes the pieces get put into something else- the seat of a ride-on toy, a play purse, a reusable shopping bag- and then end up nowhere near one would expect to look for them. Pieces that remain on the floor for a good length of time are likely to get kicked under the couch or armoire or dragged through the house via the undercarriage of a ride-on toy.
When we first started acquiring toys with pieces (shortly after the kids’ first birthday) I would notice, each night during clean-up, which pieces were missing, and I’d comb the house looking for them (and I’d usually find them). But now, there are just way too many to keep track of. And unless a missing toy is in an obvious place (like under the couch or beneath the seat of a ride-on toy), it often goes missing for days (or longer).
Normally, missing pieces are no big deal. Buba could really care less. Tiny will sometimes get worked up over a missing toy, but can usually be appeased with a substitute or redirected to another toy. Except for last night. When she lost a play butter knife from the tea set. The pink knife. Her knife. Oh, what a fuss she made. And it was bedtime.
T and I looked and looked and looked for that knife, but it was nowhere to be found. I promised her we’d look again in the morning, but she continued to wail for about 15 minutes after we put her to bed. Normally, once T and I say goodnight, there’s no going back into the kids’ room, but this time I felt I had to go back. I told her how sorry I was that she was feeling so sad, but that she needed to calm down and be a good sleeper. I held one hand and rubbed her back, and eventually, she was able to stop the crying and slept soundly through the night.
True to my word. I looked for that pink knife all. day. long. I looked under furniture, between cushions, inside drawers and closets, under rugs, inside book bins, in the diaper pail (yep, that desperate). I still can’t find it. Seriously, our house is tiny. Where the heck could it be? Maybe it’s with the goat that’s been missing for over a year and numerous other pieces that have disappeared without a trace.
Fortunately, I only put out half of the tea set cups, plates, and flatware. Once I dug the other half out of the kids’ closet, I convinced Tiny to give up the search for the lost knife and accept a replacement one. But even though she’s happy with it, it still bugs me that I can’t find the other one.
A Hairy Conversation
The following conversation took place as T was washing Tiny’s face and hands after breakfast…
Tiny: What’s that, Daddy? (she points to his arm)
T: That’s hair on my arm.
Tiny: Why you got a lota lota hair there?
T: Some men have a lot of hair on their arms.
Tiny: And on their face.
T: Yes, and on their faces.
Tiny: But not on the head. You gots just a little bit on you head.
T: (smiling) Yes, you’re right about that.
Terrified
Last night, Tiny woke up around 1:30am screaming for me and T. T ran in to try to sooth her, as I was laid-up on the couch trying to work through a yucky intestinal bug (and trying to keep any germs to myself). Through her screams and sobs she told him that there was a bug in her crib. T checked the crib, assured her that there was nothing there and put her and Buba back to bed (because, of course, he’d woken up too and was now also in need of some soothing). Not two minutes later, she was shrieking again- the kid of cry she makes when she’s really, really hurt. Not good. T raced in again, but this time Tiny was beyond worked up, and Buba was becoming more and more upset as her crying and screaming continued. As soon as I heard Tiny call for me, I knew I had to get in there.
This is not the first time that Tiny has awoken scared in the middle of the night. And, while I can’t know with absolute certainty, I’m pretty sure it was a bad dream that started all the night waking months ago. But this was the first time that she couldn’t be easily consoled. She clung to me like her life depended on it, and I could see the fear in her eyes. She was absolutely terrified. I held her and rocked her and told her she was safe. When she appeared calm enough to go back to sleep, I placed her back in her crib. But she shot right back up and refused to lie down. Her bottom lip went out and she began to whimper. I put on her crib soother, which glowed enough so we could both see her mattress, and smoothed down her sheet, showing her that there definitely wasn’t anything in her bed. T put Buba, who he had calmed, back to bed, and I gave Tiny one more hug before zipping up her crib tent.
Tiny held it together for maybe three minutes before she was shrieking and calling for me again. She was still standing up, now in one of the corners of her crib and was still just as scared as she’d been when she’d first called for us. I felt so bad for her. It was clear that this wasn’t game playing. And it was also clear that this wasn’t going to be a quick fix, and then back to bed for all of us. There weren’t any good options for taking Tiny out of her room. I was sick, T has a sinus infection, and Buba would probably protest a ton if he had to stay in the room without her (they’ve never slept separately). So, I held her and rocked her and told her I was there for her. I waited until she stopped hiccuping, and then put her back in her crib. She wouldn’t allow me to lay her down, so I put her in standing and then tried to get her to lay down. It took a few minutes, but she finally crouched down on all fours in one corner of the crib. I stroked her hair, and rubbed her back, and tried to get her to lie down. A few minutes later, she lied down at the far end of her crib, her body all scrunched up in the small space between the front and back of the crib. She refused to lie in the middle, as she normally does. I continued to sit with her until I was sure she’d be okay, maybe 15 minutes or so, and then I returned to the couch.
I could hear Tiny whimper every now and then as she tried to get comfortable but kept bumping into the sides of her crib. She remained awake until almost 3:00am, but then slept soundly until 6:30am, their normal waking time. I changed her crib bedding first thing this morning, and put on a sheet that was a little less busy. Both kids slept soundly at nap time and went right out at bedtime. I’m hoping we’ll all sleep well tonight.