My princess

So here’s the thing.

My brother and his lovely wife G have a history of sending awesome, yet totally (how shall I say this politely? Urm…) ANNOYING presents to Monkey.

A set of bongo drums.
A harmonica.
A tambourine.
Etc.

Now, mind you, each of these items was selected with love, and sent with hopes that she, like they (and their beautiful kids), would appreciate the music she could make! The beautiful noises and sounds and thumps and squeaks – just all the NOISE that a joyful toddler can make. (Clearly they live in a house, on a lot, without annoyed neighbors pressing in close and listening through walls and ceilings and floors.)

But really? All joking aside? These presents are awesome. I think Jellybean likes them even more than Monkey; watching Jellybean figure out how to use the harmonica has been charming. To date, she can make it work by sucking in, but blowing out still confounds her. It is hilarious! But I digress….

This year they did not go the musical-annoy-the-neighbors route. Nope. Instead, they sent….. an ENTIRE BOX OF PRINCESS COSTUMES. (By Disney, of course)

AN ENTIRE BOX. With 23 or more pieces to keep track of. Color coordinated tops and skirts. Necklaces and tiaras and rings and earrings and lions and tigers, and bears OH MY.

Monkey about had an aneurysm with pleasure when she opened this box up.

On the other hand, I confess that my first reaction was not as positive. It’s not that I don’t like princesses – I do! It’s just that, well, it pisses me off that Disney always kills the mom off, the sought-after fairytale ending is always getting married, and most of all? Most of the kids toys “The Rat” produces are poorly made. Just dreck. Sh*t that falls apart the first time you use it. Built to self-destruct so that you need to buy another one to replace it.

And that really bothers me. I bought a beautiful castle with Monkey’s name in vinyl wall art from elephannie on etsy, and it is beautiful! I hung it with pride, with love, without wondering just how many seconds would pass before it fell apart and broke my daughter’s heart. The Disney stuff? I think it’s all going to break her heart as it falls apart in her hands. How am I supposed to explain profit margins to a 4 year old, when she is sad and angry that her favorite things fall apart?

Until that happens, however, I am going to watch Monkey, with my heart in my mouth, enchanted by her behavior. She’s so in love with these silly princess outfits, it takes my breath away.

When Monkey puts away her costumes, even with her mom and dad rushing rushing rushing her to just get to bed already? She slows down, and lays out each item with such care and reverence you would think she was holding items spun from gossamer and gold. Priceless yet infinitely fragile. Watching her put each item away in its allotted space is like watching a Japanese tea ceremony. No unnecessary motion is made. She is poetry and grace.

She IS a princess.

Princess Fever

It appears that Monkey isn't the only one afflicted with Princess fever. Here's her best friend from school, sportin' the Snow White costume. Which she wore to school every.single.day....for two weeks! ha

Sometimes, money CAN buy you happiness

Jellybean is precocious in the manner of all second children (or any number other than first!). She watches her big sister and imitates her.

She imitates her reading. She imitates her silly voice. She imitates her dancing. She imitates her mad toothbrushing skillz..... and, she imitates her using the potty.

In fact, the other night we put her on the potty, and she actually peed in it! I'm not sure who was more startled - her, or me!

Now, as a resident of Manhattan that isn't wildly wealthy (or wildly underwater on a jumbo mortgage), we have limited living space. Our bathroom, shared by 4 humans and a geriatric cat, gives new meaning to the concept of family closeness. We simply don't have much extra space.

When Monkey was potty training, I bought her a special Elmo potty training seat. Which she thought was cool (in theory), but I hated. HATED.

See, this g*dam&n potty seat was HUGE. It took up half of the available space on the floor of our bathroom. And worse yet? When you touched Elmo's hand? He'd cackle, and say something congratulatory like "way to go" in that highpitched voice of his (shudder).

Then, when we were visiting Grandma and 'Andpa, we saw...THE potty seat. The BEST potty seat - ever. The kid part is hidden (held by a magnet) in the lid of the regular seat. No extra stuff in the way. No creepy voice in the middle of the night when your foot brushes Elmo's hand, causing you to leap 3 feet into the air.

And do you know that it cost about $30? That 30 dollars really made a vast improvement in our life.  Sometimes, just sometimes, money really can buy you happiness.

Interlude

Usually, evenings are a hectic mashup of the girls being hungry, being tired, struggling to garner my attention, etc. etc. etc.

This week, school is closed. In fact, Monkey will not be going back - she's graduated! But I digress.

This evening, I came home to reliever the sitter and, as I was leisurely preparing some baked salmon, I heard the girls....doing nothing.

I heard nothing.

So, I investigated. And found the two of them, side by side on the guest bed, reading books. It was lovely.

And then Jellybean objected to the excerpt she was reading and threw herself screeching on the book.

Interlude, interrupted. As it should be.

Mud Pies

When Monkey was little I... well, OK I confess - I sort of wrapped her in bubblewrap and didn't want her to get dirty.

She was mah baybeeee.....and I was in charge of single-handedly protecting her from every atom of dirt, every possible allergen, and of course - ALL germs.

And then life moved on.

And then we had baby number 2.

And I relaxed (some).

This is Jellybean making mud pies at her sister's birthday party. At one point in time, she took her pizza, dragged it through the mud, and then ate it. I shuddered....and then I laughed.

She makes tasty mud pies, that one!

Baby I'm a star...

Why yes, she's sitting on a cream carpet with red fingers...why do you ask?

I was going to call this white trash baby.....

You may call me Lola

Chowhound

Jellybean may be tiny, but watching her pound pizza is like watching that skinny kid win the hotdog eating contest on Coney Island. You can't imagine how her tiny stomach expands enough to hold it all!

Here's an action shot, catching a quick slice at one of our favorite neighborhood haunts.

Oh, baby my baby

Poor Jellybean is teething.

I know, she's been teething for what seems like ages. AGES.

But she's got 4 teeth (eye teeth? canines? gah, I'd be a terrible dentist) breaking through all at once. And she's miserable.

Yesterday, she picked at the gums over one tooth until she was bleeding. My beautiful little baby was wandering around the house with bloody drool, like a pre-school version of cujo. Her pale, pale skin ruddy with blood. Even the wispy blonde tendrils got a bit pink.

She's also got a cold. Of course.

She's in bed right now. She went down well. But ever 4 or 5 minutes she cries. This woeful, piteous lament of mama, mama, mama.

She's had tylenol, and an icy (frozen teether). There's not much more I can do....

It breaks my heart to hear my baby cry.

To my adoring fans

(and NO, I did not pose her! she does this on.her.own.   I swear!)

Cahoots

A lot of the time, the girls are either 1) ignoring each other, or 2) fighting and/or struggling with one another over something – a toy, a seat on the couch, mom or dad’s attention, etc. Monkey wants the book, Jellybean wants the cat, etc. etc. etc.

This morning, however, they were in cahoots. Secretly collaborating. Plotting and scheming. Being sisters.

Once I would get one settled/ready for school, the other would run off and cause some havoc. So, I would turn to that child and either get their shoes back on, or try to contain the mess, or – whatever - and as my attention was divided…the OTHER one would get into something. I’m not talking terrible mischief, just – you know – mischief. Shoes off, books on the floor, bags pulled out from under the stroller, etc.

At one point, I turned my back on them to shut a door, and as I was doing this they started screeching at each other. I turned back to see Jellybean with a blanket over her head (playing “spooky ghost” so she could reveal her face and say “boo!”) and Monkey tugging at it. (evidently Jellybean wanted to be in control of the reveal, not her sister!)

I raised my eyebrows to say “now girls, what’s the story here….” And before I could even say a word – they BOTH STARTED CHORTLING….and then took off in separate directions. It’s like they just know, innately, that if they run in opposite directions I can’t catch them both. I don’t know how they know this, they just do.

They are troublemakers. Rabble-rousers. Partners in crime…..

They are sisters.

Four!

Yesterday Monkey had her 4 year checkup. And, unlike last year, this year she opted to actually participate in the vision and hearing tests! (she passed)

Her weight and height have her in the 35% and 50-75% ranges, as she has been consistently since birth. She put on around 5 pounds this past year, and grew almost 4 inches....all of which happened, I swear, in the last two months! Matter of fact, I bought her shoes in June and she was in 8.5T.....last week (after she got REALLY grumpy about putting her shoes on) I brought her to the shoe store and she's now wearing 10s. Oops!

And, despite some early morning tears when I told her teachers I'd be picking her up early to go to the doctor's office, Monkey was fiercely brave and didn't cry one bit when she got her shots! (she's very proud of this, and reminded me several times of this feat!)

Here she is, fiercely rockin' the bandaids....

Artwork

A recent impressionistic rendition of the sky by Monkey.
(ok, really? no clue. but it's pretty!)

Chatty Cathy

Jellbean is starting to talk more and more these days. I love listening to her ever-expanding vocabulary.

Yesterday she started saying "rabbit" and pointing to the ears on the rabbit in a book. It was perfectly enunciated, but since I always call it a bunny, it took me a moment to figure out what she meant. It was like my brain needed to catch up to the fact that my 20 month old was talking to me!

She's using two-word sentences, and assigning possessive terms to things - so I'm "Monkey's mommy" and our cat is "Monkey's Ollie," etc.

She loves to talk! (atta girl, that's my baby!) Combine that with her love of technology and every phone call becomes an excuse for her to show off.

Yesterday we got a spate of (wonderful!) calls from family and friends to wish Monkey a happy birthday. Monkey was being a bit of a stinker, however, and by the end of the evening she simply didn't want to talk anymore.

Jellybean? No such problem. She was chatting everyone up! She regaled Uncle N with "woof woof" and "roar" and "meow" and a variety of other animal noises. Then closed with "bye bye."

After Uncle N rang off, M actually said - out loud! - "maybe we should get her a phone"....of course meaning one that doesn't work. But really, there is NO way she'd go for that.

She's totally going to need a dataplan, dad, so she can text her friends. Like OMG, unlimited texting would be gr8!

My imaginary friend

When I was little, I had an imaginary friend named "Mousie." She was, you'll be surprised to hear, a mouse. And I would pretend to be a mouse, too, and bite my cousins when they did annoying things like pile all of the cushions from the patio furniture on top of me and then sit on it. You know, since my mouth was the only thing not pinned down. But I digress about the biting...

The point is, I had an imaginary friend.

Now, recently Monkey has been obsessed with Princesses. Really, I mean obsessed. It's like my very own version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Aliens landed and replaced my child with one that only.wants.princessy.things. ALL.THE.TIME.

Princess shoes. Princess toys. Princess books. sheets. underwear. tiaras. costumes. wands. dolls. castles. toothpaste. toothbrushes. headbands. etc.......

So, when Monkey came home from school and started telling me stories about Yasmine, I figured she had read something about Jasmine (from Aladdin), and had an imginary princess friend!

Imagine my surprise when she introduced me to Yasmine....her new friend in late care at her Montessori.

Whoops. And here I thought you were just telling tales!

Happy Birthday baby

Four years ago today, Monkey was born. We celebrated yesterday with family and friends.

I love you baby!

You win some, you lose some

So this morning was a mixed bag. Monkey referred to The Girls' Room as "my room" (see! told you it was coming!). And that made me smile.

On the other hand, when I dropped the girls off at school I learned that Jellybean, aka Jaws, is biting. Again. She bit two kids yesterday because she didn't want to share (her toys, her space).

Like I said, you win some (sharing is good!), you lose some (sharing stinks, am biting in outrage!).

Sharing

Now that the girls are sharing a room, we're talking to them about sharing a lot more. In fact, we no longer call that room Jellybean's room, but affirmatively make a point of calling it "The Girls' Room" - and this title has taken hold to the point where if I ask Monkey where something is, she's more likely than not going to tell me it's "in The Girls' Room" which cracks me up. She hasn't yet said "my room" but that will come. Even though last night was a little rough, they are doing a spectacular job together.

However, we moved them into each other's space *just* as Jellybean's language skills have expanded to include the second favorite word of toddlers ("no" being first on the list, bien sur)....mine.

MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE

Ah, timing. You can't make this stuff up.

Murphy's Law

I think I shall stop crowing about our successes until they are SO FAR back in history, I can barely remember why I even cared at the time.

Why yes, tonight isn't going well putting the girls to sleep in their shared bedroom....why do you ask?

Sigh.

Bonding

Well folks, we did it. We officially moved Monkey and Jellybean into a room together. Yes, yes, I know that Monkey has been camping out on her sister's floor all month long, but now....she has her very own BUNK BED! (caps are necessary, as that's how she says it!)

Ok, calm down, we aren't actually letting her sleep on the upper bunk. Matter of fact, there's no mattress up there and instead houses only the ladder. So no jumpin' and fallin' off the bed for our Monkey. (I am now presently humming that nursery rhyme..) She's not allowed up there 'til she's 6. (yes, I know, two years from now, I can do math really I can!)

And she loves it. The gawdawful princess sheets help! (blech. shudder)

The best part, however, is watching Jellybean scramble up and over the end (it's too hard to get up on the side, as the mattress and comforter just don't give enough traction) of the bed, flop onto the pillows, and mutter "night night" as she giggles into the pilllows. I swear to g*d, if that kid only knew how to get out of her crib? I bed we'd find her in bed with her sister every.single.night.

Of course, Monkey might be cheesed to discover her sister snuggling up to her....but still, it's so cute.