"A Cow, A Bee, a Cookie, and Me"

This, my second post of the night, is another post about a children's book. We found a fantastic book at the library (see title above), brought it home, and made the cookies it describes right after dinner. Lola was standing on a chair in the kitchen, and we read the book while we were making the cookies. In the story, Ben is making cookies with his grandma. Every time she is about to put an ingredient in the bowl, she asks Ben what ingredient they need. The ingredient is always something like, "A cow in a field eating fresh green grass." Then the grandmother follows the milk out of the cow and through the process of becoming butter for the honey cookies (sugar cookies) that they are making. It is a very simple book that a 2.5 year old can follow, although she may not really comprehend the significance of the source of the ingredients ("one thousand honey bees," for instance). At the back of the book is the recipe and simple instructions, although the grandma gives you all the measurements in the narrative itself. It was good fun, matey! And Lola helped stir the cookie dough and then roll the balls of dough in sugar and cinnamon.--K

Pro-Alligator Propaganda

Josh "innocently" picked out a library book for Lola called "Alligator Sue." It's set in Louisiana, and it's the scariest piece of propaganda I've seen in some time. Sue is whirled away from her houseboat and finds herself in a gator nest, "nose to snout with a queen-size, prickly backed, saw-toothed mama Alligator." After a few moments, Sue faints. Here's where it gets pernicious.
"That mama Gator snuffled up to Sue. "Poor puny li'l thing," she crooned, tucking some Spanish moss over her. And with a crooked grin, she set to singing Sue an Alligator lullaby. . . . From that day on. Mama Coco adopted Sue as one of her own."
I tried to find evidence online that alligators eat their own young, but unfortunately, the Alligator-controlled media have made it a universal web-encyclopedia truism that alligators are protective parents.
(Note to strangers reading this blog: this is a joke--although alligators are indubitably very dangerous beasts.)--K

No Matter What

Josh is reading Lola a story called "No Matter What." It's about a little fox named "Small" who feels "grim and grumpy" and tells "Large" (the fox parent) that Large doesn't love him. Large repeats, "I'll always love you, no matter what," through a series of metamorphoses in which Small imagines turning into a crocodile, a bug, and other unlovable creatures. I love this book, but I have to admit that its grown-up alter ego would have to be titled, "Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is." (Or, in more teen-friendly lingo, "Actions Speak Louder Than Words.") This book is particularly effective for me due to my alligator phobia. If I haven't admitted to it before, I have to say that my phobia is justified because both sets of in-laws live within striking distance of the Gulf Coast. Anyway, Lola enjoys "No Matter What," and she has embarked upon a reading marathon (with parents in tow) because she wounded her knee on the playground today. When Lola scratches her knee, she insists on being carried from place to place, and will limp pathetically if she is placed on her feet. Funny as this may seem, I remember that scrapes could be agonizing when I was a little older than Lola. We haven't yet learned to soldier through it at that age. I'm glad, though, that I've had the opportunity to raise my child in circumstances that make pain a rare phenomenon. I wish more children had this opportunity.--K

What the South is Really Like

I hope you Coastal occasional readers get a kick out of this one. I attended a wildflower lecture today, given by a Georgia Master Gardener. Georgia Master Gardeners are ordinary people like us who have taken a lot of courses and have a lot of experience with gardening. This particular lady gardener (she would choose "lady" over "female") was a very (naturally) well-preserved senior citizen. I have transcribed several moments from the lecture directly into my novel-in-progress, but here is the best one. Apologies for the roughness of the writing. I had to do it very quickly before I went to get Lola at daycare. "Helen" is the wildflower lecturer.

Helen continued, focusing very closely on the spotted wintergreen. She paused, and added,
“A lot of people—do we have any Yankees here?—a lot of people call this one pipsissewa.” The half-filled room checked itself out covertly—no Yankee presence here. Judith realized that she was one with the group. She belonged because she was Southern. She could see the similarity now between all of them, the ten or so women and one man in the audience. Even without being able to look directly at the people in the back, she knew that they all shared that softness, that manner of looking and speaking, which her few Midwestern colleagues in Valdosta had found so artificial and off-putting.

In: Lola in Toddler Underpants. Out: Coffee and Tea for Mommy

Lola has graduated to toddler pants, which look like real underwear, but which have padding in the bottom to minimize the damage of "accidents." Meanwhile, I have permanently quit tea and coffee for vanity's sake. I purchased some "white strips," which are bleaching my teeth lighter than the light yellow color they have affected for a while now. Since my teeth seem so friendly to bleach, I am going to do the "strips" only once a day. I don't want to get in an accident tomorrow morning on the way to work, wearing blue adhesive latex all over my teeth. My favorite instruction on the package tells me "Avoid eating and drinking while wearing the "strips." Anyone who has worn these knows that one can barely swallow while sporting these giant beauties!--K

The Chaos that was VBS

Look closely at these two pictures below. The four and five year-olds with their hands raised, paying attention, are my little "crew," for whom I jumped up and down, danced, sang, and generally tried to provide a good time. The kids you see all around them, yawning and looking up at the sky, are kids who were led by people who seemed to consider themselves the free babysitters, sulky and silent. Yikes! I'm glad it's over--K

My Bad Conscience: Cinderella

I'm forced to admit that the reason I'm afraid of Hannah Montana is that I've encouraged Lola to play Disney at times in the past. These pictures from ten days ago show Lola enjoying herself playing "Cinderella cleaning the house."--K

Lola Brings Home the Language

One of the most beautiful things about having a child who is now forming complete sentences is to hear what she brings home from the outside world (school). Today, she was stepping down from the Honda Civic in the blazing early afternoon, and she said, "Leave it open to the wind." (pointing to her mostly healed cut) "The wind will bring it kisses." I asked her, "Did Miss Cindy tell you that?" She replied. "Uh HUH," which is her fashionable 2-year-old slang for "yes." Two nights ago, she was lining up her dinosaurs and other toys on the side of the tub, and she started saying to them, one after another, "You are the best, and you are the best, and you are the best . . . you are all the same." I really like these teachings she's bringing back from school! As an only child, she has no peers at home with whom she can be "the best and the same."--K

Who's Afraid of Hannah Montana? . . .

. . . besides me? I have seen enough of the merchandise in Target, and heard enough rumors from the front lines, to know that Barbie-Fairy-Aurora-Montana is stalking our kindergarten-aged girl children. I thought that I could buy Lola a few items from the Disney pantheon without converting her to the religion, but she fixates on these items to such a degree that I am going to have to hide Disney's Polite as a Princess Book and one (the blonder) of her two Barbies. She hauled out all these trappings when guests came to visit on Sunday (including her fairy costume and Mardi Gras necklace). I don't mind her showing off her gender signs: I just don't want her to think her gender is synonymous with superficial luxury and idle passivity.--More later, K

She Moves in Devious Ways

Lola scored her first triumph against parental omnipotence today. She came to me in our bedroom, while Daddy was out in the living room, and said, "I want to go to the park." I repeated after her, questioning, "the park?" She clarified: "the square." The square is our town square. I said, "Well it might be a little hot. We can go . . . if you would be willing to ride in the stroller. She said triumphantly, "Yes I would." I didn't guess the reason for her triumphant tone until Josh came in and said, "She just fooled you. I told her no because it was too hot." Lola is getting too smart for her own good! or at least for ours.--K

Lola's First Movie Date

This afternoon Lola enjoyed her first movie theater experience. Of course, Daddy and Mommy were her dates. We even held her hands during the scary parts. The film was Kung Fu Panda, and we should have known better than to take her to a PG on her first outing. It was spectacular in its rushing "camera" work and bloodless kung fu moves. Lola absolutely loved all the previews, but she lasted for half an hour of the actual movie before she decided it was time to leave. She is a brave girl, and she did not cry. She seemed to very much enjoy the film, but I think the villain may have been too much. Even I started when this bad guy, a giant tiger, started climbing boulders *as they fell* from the ceiling into a bottomless pit. She pointed toward the exit to indicate that she wanted to go, and we confirmed it by asking her. The highlight of the show, she said afterward, was the baby tiger kung-fu artist. We walked out of the theater door and she raced over to the poster boxes on the outside, saying "Kung Fu Panda!" and pointing. I think the pictures had acquired a whole new significance after her first overwhelming experience of the technological sublime.--K

Josh Broke Star's Diet!

Our dog Star has been put on a diet by the vet. Tonight, Josh gave Star an extra 1/2 pack of food, breaking the 1 pack plus dry food diet recommended by the vet. When questioned, he responded, "Well, what the vet doesn't know is that occasionally the dogs get 3 packs a day." "What?" I said, "You lied to the vet!" He said, "No I didn't." "Well, you let me lie to the vet," I said hotly, "when I claimed the dogs ate two packs a day."
I see what Josh is saying when he claimed after our conversation that Star had done well today because she had only 1.5 packs of real food, but I still feel a little like Hilary Clinton after she discovered that protestations of her husband's innocence were groundless. Josh has been feeding Star's habit.--K

Our Town's Lovely Luau in the Rain

Lola had a great time tonight at our town's annual Luau, thrown by our Utility Company for all of us, its peasant subjects. They truck in a whole bunch of sand and smooth it over the pavement of the beautiful park, deep in the lordly pines. All the little kids in our town (whose parents will bring them, but that's another story) race out to build sandcastles and play in the fantastic (and hygienic) water fountain play system that was turned on specially for tonight. Water restrictions have prevented its operation on any normal days. The children love it. To see a Southern small town with a painful history of racism come out all together to celebrate on the sand is a joyful thing. I think our newspaper photographer got some good shots! In the Southern small town in which I spent my teen years in the 1980s, every public festival was an occasion in which the ugly reality of social segregation would manifest itself, as white and black celebrants gave each other a wide berth, and even acted out mutual wordless hostilities. Tonight, as I headed toward the crowd on the sand dance floor with Lola in my arms, introvert Josh said anxiously, "Don't go join in, they're doing some sort of dance . . . with moves." I looked at him askance: "Yes, it's the Electric Slide . . . everyone knows the Electric Slide." About 50 women of all different ages, skin colors and shapes did the Electric Slide together, very seriously. Anyone who knows the South knows that this ritual happens constantly here at public festivals (probably not at Renaissance or Scottish festivals). I don't know if it's common practice elsewhere in the country. Later it started raining, which was very refreshing after the intense heat of the day, but people started drifting away. We went after about 15 minutes of fun on the sand in the rain, talking with acquaintances. Once again, Josh admitted that I was right in bringing us out for the evening, and that he can be a stay-at-home curmudgeon. It was the perfect end to a perfect Friday night--K

Lola Goes Oedipal?

Today Lola has said the following things.
"Daddy, you go pee in the potty."
(said to herself immediately afterward)"One day I will watch the boys pee in the potty."
"Mommy, go away!" repeated several times although I cautioned her not to tell Mommy but to ask her nicely.
"Quiet!" putting her hand over Mommy's mouth.
"Daddy, go in and lie down on the bed. I will go kiss him and he will wake up."
"Mommy, go away!"
Like most toddlers, Lola has only seen us kiss goodbye at the door. Perhaps I should get a little more demonstrative to mark my territory! Just kidding! :) I should add for the squeamish that she's also been following me around and emulating me, which makes her Daddy behavior endearing rather than merely a little uncomfortable.

Lola's Mama Is For Obama (And So's Her Dad)

A few months ago, when Josh finally got on the Obama wagon, he said to me (after the first sweeping primary victories): "I didn't believe it could happen." It was probably the most positive emotional-political moment this family has experienced in a long time. It can and will happen again in November, if the American people continues to hold onto those "old liberal ideas" like equality for ALL Americans, and justice for all.--K

I Want a Cheese and Pickle Sandwich

. . . and I'm not pregnant. I've merely been reading a lot of contemporary British fiction. Lola was perfect today--she always is. (I would have added "really" to that last sentence, but it would have sounded unbearably Anglophiliac. Probably anything I write right now will.) Tomorrow Lola is tested by the challenge of applying her new potty mastery in school. She's only there for 2.5 hours each day this week, so hopefully she will do just fine.--K

A Good Day

We had a good time at the party today. I had written an introspective blog about my social limitations, probably in part suggested by my blog experience of the past couple of days, but, after all, this blog is not called "Kathryn's Blog." Lola had an excellent time at the party, petting two cats and eating her ketchup straight. It was an absolutely beautiful setting, and the hosts and guests were all very gracious. Lola enjoyed putting her hand into the waterfall above the swimming pool. (This waterfall reminded me of my grandparents, who used to indulge our childish wishes to swim in opulent pools with waterfalls.) The dramatic event of the party occurred when an acquaintance had to jump into the swimming pool into his church clothes to haul out his four year-old son, who had just gone under. For the entire party, he, his wife and I had been predicting a dunk for one of us based on the natures of our very young children, so it was a foreshadowed ending, and gave me a feeling of parental solidarity. I'm not sure our drenched acquaintance felt equally satisfied! :) At least both pool-goers were perfectly fine: the child was barely underwater before his rescue, but the man took a significant jump from the top of the waterfall (four feet to the water). I want to make jokes about his advanced age, since he is Josh's age, but since his wife might read this blog, I will simply give her a wink and sign out.--K

Party Today

We are going to a cookout today. It's also our anniversary. Long ago, when our relationship was young, Josh occasionally used to surprise me with some sort of "collective" gift. Once, he bought me a used Oxford OED with a kind of subscription plan, so that the book was actually from Rodger, Thomas, Angie, my sister, and some other friends. Therefore, I'm left with a lingering suspicion of conspiracy in special-day planning. I wouldn't mind if such a surprise were planned by friends, but this cookout is being thrown by almost total strangers. I asked Josh nervously, "This isn't anything to do with our anniversary, is it?" He reassured me that it was not. What a relief! Lola should have a good time; she'll enjoy getting out of the house and dangling her feet in a swimming pool--K

The End of the Saga

"K and E" left another comment, claiming that "no offense was meant" and that s/he was "just trying to figure out this parenting business." The most important message in the comment was a request for me to delete the original post s/he made. Fat chance. People who do this kind of thing should be exposed. S/he claims that the blog my husband found is not theirs; indeed, they do not have a blog. Well, if that's the case, s/he wouldn't be afraid enough of us to ask us to delete the post. There is no cause for fear, O hostile strangers. Because we are college professors, we simply want you to learn your lesson: don't mess with people who might be college professors. We don't like people who launch personal attacks on innocent strangers. We also don't like people who lie in the face of the obvious truth. My next post will be a positive one, since I'm sure that readers of Lola's blog don't need a "downer."--K