Signing fool

Mason has a ton of signs now, with new ones every day. Today he learned "truck" and "crocodile" amongst other random things that fascinate him. The trouble is that his technique still needs refinement, so interpretations can be a challenge. For example, the sign for "butterfly" (that he uses for anything that flies--bird, airplane, etc.) requires you to cross your thumbs and flap both sets of fingers. Mason's adaptation is his index fingers coming together repeatedly. "Water" is usually the "3 hand" (like a W) tapping to the side of your mouth. Mason uses his index finger to point repeated to various points on his cheek. They're close but not intuitive and when he does a sign he expects to be heard! Favorite other signs: Grampy/Grandpa, Grammy/Grandma, please/thank you, banana.

Some of his signs have become perfected. "Cat," for example, used to always draw the "dog" sign instead. He now does a picture-perfect cat. "More," instead of banging his palms together, shows off the pinched hands touching repeatedly at the finger-tips. His words are also developing, but require some work to understand too.

It is amazing how quickly he picks things up and how it helps him express himself. I can now say to him, "Mason the sign for this is..." and he'll repeat it. He likes games with signs. Kenzie or I say "there's a monkey outside!!" and he'll do the sign for monkey and point outside.

Bad chair

As I was rocking Kenzie to bed tonight I started poking/tickling her. She was laughing but then wiggled and hit her head on the chair's arm. Her voice squeaked and I could tell that she was trying to hold back the tears as she said, "ouuuch!" I tried to divert her attention and said, "that poor chair, what did he ever do to you to make you hit him with your hard head?"

She instantly pointed to the chair and said, "he started it!!"

Cheesy, soggy grins

Slippery when wet

Grammy did a pretty good job of holding onto 24 pounds of wiggle that didn't necessarily want to be held, at the same time gracefully entertaining 33 pounds of wiggle that wanted constant watching.

Fish

Mason is fearless. He just walks off the edge of the pool into the water, goes completely under, and comes up without a gasp or a blink of the eye. Or sometimes he would sit on the edge and fall in. Over and over. I bet he jumped into the pool 100 times this weekend. We all took turns catching him.

And, not to be outdone, Kenzie learned how to jump in with her floating swimsuit, go under water, and come up by herself. She was more timid until she saw Mason jump and get lots of positive reinforcements. All of the sudden she became very brave! Once she emerged from the water she'd say, "Did you see that?? Did you see that?? That was amazing!"

Fun weekend!

We had a nice mini-vacation this weekend. On Friday I took off work at noon, then we went to Moses Lake. Mom & Dad, coincidentally, went to Spokane this weekend, so they stopped by on both legs of their trip. We rented a suite at a hotel in Moses Lake and spent most of the weekend in the pool.


Here's a picture of Cindy and Sandy with Kenzie, Nathan & Mason. When was it exactly that the kids began to outnumber the adults??

Chinchillapedia

Out of the blue Kenzie said, "Mom, do you know much about chinchillas?"

I replied truthfully, "No, actually I don't know much about them." (Both wondering where this came from and feeling like I should know the answer.)

She informed me, "They're like mice except they have big ears and big eyes. They can hear very well and see in the dark because scary animals are close by and they can see them very well."

Not knowing quite how to respond, I said, "they see very well in the dark?"

With little patience for me she stated, "I already said that."

I looked them up and, in case you also aren't too familiar with them, this is a chinchilla. And, they are nocturnal--and do in fact see very well in the dark. If you need to know anything else, please direct your questions to Kenzie.

Accessorizing

The dark side of bad breath

First thing this morning Kenzie told me, "I had a dream about Conrad. He was taking a bath because of Mason's breath. I hope it didn't rip his eyes off because then he would be sad and couldn't see."

Church time

The children's choir sang today and Kenzie made her first appearance. She did great! She stood in the front row, sang the song with confidence and did the hand motions. Every minute or so she would look over at me and smile in a look that said, "aren't you proud of me Mom?" So very cute, she was cracking people up with her facial expressions.

And...remember the post about Jacob from church? We left church early today thinking all was well. I didn't hear anything about negative behavior during the Sunday School hour, and she seemed to sit well next to him waiting for their turn to sing.

A phone call tonight from a friend from church told a different story.

We had left early because we went to softball practice, so we missed the Children's Sermon. All the kids gathered in the front of the church to talk about today's subject of "anger." The speaker asked the kids "what makes you angry?" One child responded, "when my mom tells me 'no.'" Another, "when I get candy taken away from me." Then Jacob chimed in to the microphone for the whole church to hear, "Kenzie makes me angry." A clarifying question helped him reveal, "Well, she makes me angry, and then I just get sad."

Poor Jacob! After the last round Kenzie mailed him a hand-written letter apologizing for her behavior. I'm not even sure what we should be apologizing for this time! Guess I'll be making that phone call to find out.

Listen up

Mason has recently learned how to express himself a lot more! In the world of signs and pointing, he's now knows: Mom, Ama, Grampy, cat, juice, please, thank you, cat, dog, help, milk, more, stinky, eyes, ears, tongue, head, hand, elbow, belly button, belly/"six pack", foot, toes, nose, mouth...and probably some others. He also is speaking a lot more. Favorite words are animal noises: moo, wuff, meow, growl (lion), Zeke, arr (monster), oh-ah-ah (monkey). Most of the noises appeared in just the last day or so. He likes "talking on the phone" with the monkey and pretending that he sees it outside.

Story time

Shimmertude

Kenzie found some "shimmer powder" and wears it proudly.

Yesterday she had painted both cheeks with glitter lipgloss. She also glammed the cat...Madison was sporting a pink smear of nailpolish. Where is she finding this stuff???

(P)laying in the dirt

The bigger the drop the louder the bang

Pick up popper.
Drop.

Pick up popper.
Drop.



Repeat until popper is taken away from you.

Bedtime rituals

Most nights I'm on Mason duty for bed. The biggest challenge is coercing him to put on PJs. After that, we turn off the light, turn on the radio, and sit in the rocking chair. He immediately puts his head down on me, and lulls himself to a very relaxed state. If he's at all restless, I gently tickle him behind the ear, which makes him giggle and then relax. After just a couple of minutes I ask him, "can Mommy have a kiss?" and he pops his head up for a smooch. Sometimes he'll then point to his crib--frequently it is he who determines we're done rocking. I get up, hand him his monkey, and lay him on his tummy. Very rarely does he make a sound after that.

Cindy has the more, um, rigid task of putting Kenzie to bed. The rituals begin with book-reading. The book is carefully selected by Kenzie. Nobody else has any input into the selection, nor really the right to even question it. The books aren't short. And, you better not skip even a word because she has most of them memorized. If you dare miss a page (which I have tried on occasion, I'll admit), she insists that you start back on Page One. I lost my reading privileges because, not only did I skip a page or two, at one point I dared put rhythm into a poem and was convicted of singing a book! I have forever been labeled a "Bad Reader," and banished from the ritual altogether. (On rare occasion she grants me the privilege, but makes sure I know that it is a special exception.)

Reading is immediately followed by rocking, then by counting. She specifies the parameters: to 10 or 20, forward or backward, English or Spanish. At that point, she is to be carried to her bed and not covered up until specifically requested. Sometimes I am summoned to do the covering, other times Cindy beholds the honor. In either case, the torch is passed to me for prayers. (She always requests a "story" but I usually talk my way out of it. Coming up with original ad hoc adventures became too much pressure. Her inventions are better than mine and I couldn't sustain her standards of originality. "Mom, that's not a good story," she told me one too many times.)

For the prayer I am to kneel down next to her bed but I cannot--must not--put my arms on her blankets. If I ask special permission sometimes I can put them under her blankets. Then I am to put my head on her chest while we both close our eyes and say a prayer. If my head ever comes up, she immediately yanks it back into position. Usually I start the prayer and then she chimes in. We thank God for all our many blessings, which frequently includes a complete recital of the family tree, and a special request for continued "good choices."

As soon as prayer is over, we say our goodnights and I leave the room. A few minutes later she emerges with excuse #1. Tonight she just wanted to know if I was going to sleep with my sweats on or just a tee shirt. Excuse #1 is accompanied by warning #1 from me, something like "come out again and I take Conrad" (Chirpie’s fraternal twin brother). After one more round of kisses, she goes back into bed, to emerge a few minutes later with excuse #2, followed by consequence #1 until we negotiate a deal whereby she gets to keep the rest of her animals if she stays in bed.

The real meaning of Pavlof and his dogs

Cindy told Kenzie tonight to hurry up and feed Jordan because she was drooling. So, at bedtime tonight I told her the famous story of Professor Pavlof and his dogs.

I explained that each night before feeding the dogs, the professor would ring a bell, then immediately put the food out. Night one: ring, ring, ring then food. Night two: ring, ring, ring then food. Night three: ring, ring, ring then food. Night four: ring, ring, ring...but no food. But what he found out was that the dogs still drooled, just after hearing the bell!

Kenzie's laughed and rolled her eyes with a "humpf!" Then, after a pause she said, "but, Mom, why didn't he feed them? Was he a mean man?"

Anything but Aidan??

Me: Hey Kenz, why don't you tell me about school today?
Kenzie: [pause] Naaah
Me: Did you do anything fun?
Kenzie: Um, I don't remember.
Me: Did Ms. Janet read a story?
Kenzie: Uh, yeah.
Me: What did she read?
Kenzie: Well, I don't remember.
Me, getting desperate: What did Aidan wear today?
Kenzie, perking up considerably: He wore pants and a belt. And different shoes today. His shoes were so handsome! And he had on a nice shirt, a striped shirt with short sleeves.
Me: Interesting...did you have Spanish today?
Kenzie: Um, I'm not sure.

Regret

Kenzie had a pretty rough morning, starting at church. During Sunday School Kenzie got a time-out for pushing 6-year-old Jacob--the same Jacob whose mother, Julie, is Kenzie's Sunday School teacher. He's very sweet and gentle, just the perfect victim.

Next, during church Jacob convinced his parents to let him leave their safety, to sit next to Kenzie. (Which, can I just say, I don't understand. Kenzie abuses kids and they flock to her.) After playing nice for a period of time, she shoved him backward. Yes, in the sanctuary. Sweet little Jacob just stood there (okay, not so little...he's twice her age) and looked crushed. We whisked her away and gently placed him back in the care of his parents.

Then we went home for lunch...and a good nap. I can't remember what happened, but Kenzie decided to slug me. Before impact I caught her hand. She took a long time out in her room, then came out for lunch.

Before long she started crying at the table. In the most sincere, trembling, humble, little voice, she confessed, "I am NOT proud of my behavior. I am so very ashamed of myself. Sometimes I make very bad choices and I (sob, sob) regret them." Her words sounded so old and wise. Cindy and I about lost our composure. Cindy had to quickly retreat to the hallway, leaving me to pinch myself sober.

The remorse didn't last long...she pushed Mason over backward as soon as she got up from her nap.