Chock-wit knowledge

It's All Souls Day.
Which also means that it is 2 days past Halloween. There is still plenty of candy in the children's trick-or-treating stash.
Tiernan generously gave Colin a piece of candy from his bucket yesterday when he left for work, so that he could enjoy it with his lunch.
This morning, Colin asked him whether he could have one of his Halloween candies for lunch again. Tiernan excitedly replied, "Yes!"
He picked out and handed Colin a lollipop. Colin said that he'd rather have something made out of chocolate.
Tiernan authoritatively stated, "Oh, dis red one's very chock-witty," and handed Colin a Kitkat bar.

It's as if he has a distinctly memorable past experience.

Boo-tiful pictures

Colette is scribbling away with colored pencils.
Tiernan approaches her piece of paper, "OH! Dat's booo-tiful, Miss."

I ask him, "What is it Colette is drawing?"

"Ummm, she's still workin' on it," he answers.

"What did you see she was drawing that was beautiful?"

Tiernan thinks for a moment, "Lots of people dancing, like this!" as he commences some fancy footwork.

Hello?

Both of my children have loved pretending that they're talking on the phone, especially if there is a real phone to use as a prop.

Tonight, Colette came and took the house phone from its cradle, turned it on, and randomly dialed several numbers
When the male robotic voice came on to inform her that she needed to first dial "1" then the area code, etc, she whispered sweetly into the mouthpiece, "Hello."

Days of the Week

This morning, Tiernan asked Colin, "Are you doe-in ta' wook today, Dadoo?"

"Yes, I have to go to work today," Colin affirmed.

"Is it Sunday?" Tiernan asked.

"No, it's Tuesday," came the correction.

Tiernan continued, "When is Threes-day?"

********* 

Later on, we were having sandwiches for lunch. Alluding to a Wiggles' song that matches days of the week with different foods, I asked Tiernan whether Tuesday is a sandwich day.

"Um, no, I think Sunday is a sandwich day," he said. The mention of this song reference, however, kept the tune running in all of our heads for the rest of the day.

In fact, around 4:30 in the afternoon, as he was sipping hot cider for tea-time, I overheard Tiernan singing, "Tuesday is a DRINKING day!"


Yes, my son, sometimes it is...

Weekend fun

I attended a continuing education conference this weekend, while Colin made sure everything was well at home.

They always have a roaring good time.

Time frame

Colette was settled into the bath water, happy to play with a few water toys, so I turned my attention to Tiernan.

But he protested, "I'm not wehdy to det in da tub."

"Well, you have to have a bath," I reasoned with him. "When are you going to be ready?"

His answer, "Um, like, five minutes."

"Ok," I agreed.

There was a moment's pause. Then Tiernan looked to me for some help, "Tan you set da timer?"

Getting Chih-wy

Autumn suddenly arrived this past week.

It's that time of year when Tiernan starts searching through his dresser drawers for "long-sweeved pants."

Use your words

I was very focused, searching the library's online catalog for a children's book my father-in-law had been telling me about, half-listening to the kids' chatter behind me. 

Suddenly, Tiernan's voice found its way into my consciousness, "Were you listening to my words?"

"Oh," I snapped back to the present moment. "No, I guess I wasn't. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

What good does it do him to use his words if you're not listening, Mama?

Snuggle Bug

I took a break from making dinner and started wandering around the house, then outside, then back inside, looking for Tiernan. 

He doesn't always know to answer me when I call his name, so I called, "Tiernan? Say, 'yes, Mama.'"

I heard a faint, "Yes Mama."
 
"Where are you?" I asked.
 
"[muffled words] room," came the faraway reply.
 
"Your room?" I asked, heading in that direction.
 
"No--your room," he corrected me.
 
I went into my bedroom, but saw no sign of him. "My room? I don't see you."
 
"I'm heah," said his little voice, coming from Colin's pillow. The rest of him was snuggled deeply under our comforter.

I guess it's been a long day...

Peanut

I don't remember Tiernan's voice ever being as small and high-pitched as Colette's. I noticed it especially when she stood in my bedroom this morning.

"I mant some," she stated. "Low-la."

"You want some granola?" I asked her.

"Ya!" she exclaimed. "I yike ga-low-la. Huh-way."

Date Hour!

Colin and I had the longest uninterrupted conversation EVER, when we left the children with a new babysitter for an hour this evening.

Concerned we might need to start heading back, I asked him how long we'd been talking. He checked his phone and replied, "Fifteen minutes." 

Wow--we really need to get out more.

Love. My. Life.

On a breezy summer Sunday evening, Colin and the kids pick me up from work. It's dark as we drive home with the windows rolled all the way down, Colette fast asleep in her car seat. 

We pull up to numerous red lights next to college students (also with windows rolled down), where I become vaguely aware that the Wiggles are playing full-blast from the CD-player. 

Since Tiernan forbids anyone to touch the volume these days, we do not even try to muffle the sound. Instead, I reach over and take hold Colin's free hand, and laugh.

Avoiding temptation

Tiernan proposes to Colette, "T'mon, Miss, let's doe out back."

[They start heading for the door together, Tiernan holding his baseball glove to his chest]

I ask, "Tiernan, are you going to let her play how she wants to play?"

"Um, lep."

"No hitting," I remind him, referring to an incident that occurred yesterday.

Tiernan, understanding exactly to what I'm referring, replies, "No. I not dunna bwing da bat."

Impromptu Phonics Lesson

Me: "C" makes this sound: C--, C--, C--
 
Tiernan: C--, C--, Why da Tolette-letter make dat sound?
 
Me: That's the Colette-letter and the Caomhan-letter. Can you say, "C-- C-- Caomhan?"
 
Tiernan: C--C--Caomhan.
 
Me: Yay! Now say C--C--Colette.
 
Tiernan: C--C--Tolette!

What am I SAYING?

I spent some time trying to convince my persistent 3 year-old that the Wiggles don't wear their shoes to bed. But what evidence could I provide?

He didn't buy it.

Finally, I resorted to the old standby:
"Well, when you grow up, you can choose to wear your shoes to bed. But not while you're living in this house."

Sad Tummy

Tiernan came and reported to me, "I dave Miss da rest of da hot chockwit, tuz my tummy is sad."
 

"Your tummy is sad?" I asked, sympathetically. "Why is that?"
 

Tiernan explained his palms up in front of his chest, "Um, tuz it dust yikes juice an' wateh an' evie-sing."

My Fruit Flies

We have had some banana bunches from our local produce co-op that do not like to ripen.

It seemed that for several weeks in a row, we had received green bananas that never yellowed, and we eventually had to toss them.

Sometime in late June, I had decided to place the latest bunch in a large paper sack with an apple, and set it on top of our chest freezer in the kitchen, where the warm sun shines through the windows.

When we went away on vacation in early July, I cleared out most of our perishables from the refrigerator, and looked around to see if anything else needed to be addressed. I looked briefly to see where the banana bag was, but not seeing it on the chest freezer, assumed that the bananas had met the same fate of their predecessors: tossed.

A few weeks after returning from vacation, we started to find fruit flies around the kitchen. First a few, then more, then finally, a swarm. A swarm, yes, which arose when Colin accidentally dropped something behind the chest freezer.

Eeeew.

I gagged as I cleaned up not only the mushed banana and rotten apple, but also the maggots that had gathered on the bottom of the bread flour sack, which had become wet with fruity rot.

Then I endeavored to create complicated "fail-safe" traps in order to catch and rid the kitchen of fruit flies, by several methods researched online:

~red wine vinegar in a jar with pierced plastic wrap over it

~red wine vinegar and sliced fruit in a bowl with pierced plastic wrap over it

~red wine vinegar in a bottle with a funnel leading into the mouth ... then with pierced plastic over it.

I finally discovered, much to my dismay, that the fruit flies were very fond of my kombucha, brewing in a large glass jug in my cupboard. Reluctantly, I pulled down the container and placed it atop the chest freezer, stretched some plastic wrap over the top, and pierced tiny holes in the wrap. The result was the most successful of all fruit fly trap attempts.

Of course, my children were watching all of my crazy designs and experiments. They're always watching.

Tiernan confided to his father, this evening during their bedtime chat, "Dadoo, Mama WEEwy yikes tatchin’ fwuit fwies."

Early Counting

During any baking project, I always count out loud when I have to add more than 2 units of an ingredient. It helps me keep track of where I am, since I am easily distracted, and often forget whether I actually added the unit, or just said it to myself. This method of hearing it said out loud minimizes errors of quantity.

I started counting out cups of flour today, "One...," 

Then I heard Colette's little voice behind me, "Two...free. Doe to room."

 
I guess she associates counting with Tiernan's time-out warnings.

Hmmm,

Inspired by a Book

The book is called French Kids Eat Anything, by Karen Le Billon.
It's got some great tips for parents of picky eaters, or for parents like myself who want to make sure their kids don't become picky eaters. 

Pureed Cauliflower Soup with Thai basil garnish didn't go over so well last night. 

However, penne with chopped Thai basil in "white sauce" was deemed delicious for lunch--especially after a full morning of swimming at the pool. 

What's that they say? Try, try again?

Ms. Le Billon has plenty to teach me.  :)