M's been calling Monkey a hippie for the past few weeks. And even I'm willing to admit it - the girl's hair has gotten really really long.
Jellybean's gotten a little scraggly, too.
So we scheduled haircuts. For this morning. The morning after the biggest snowstorm I've seen since moving here. (there was even thunder during the snowstorm! cool!!!)
Needless to say, we were disappointed. We schlepped through the snow, with the girls, to this salon in the west village.....and the owner was there only to call and cancel all the appointments. Her stylists couldn't make it in.
We went inside to use the bathroom before repeating our trip back home.
And while we were inside, Monkey gazed forlornly about, muttering how we weren't going to get to watch the movie, as promised.
The salon owner asked 'what?'
And Monkey repeated: "it's just SO unfair. I don't get to get my haircut. And it's gotten SO long....I'm like Rapunzel!" as she finished it off with a (melodramatic) sigh.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Under the entry for gullible
For the past 24 hours, Jellybean's been walking around, shrugging her shoulders, and saying "it walked away...."
What, you may ask, is she referring to?
Why the christmas tree, of course.
If you ask here where it went (since we took it down to the curb during her naptime), she'll shrug, put her hands up in the air, palms up, and chirp "it walked away!"
Because perhaps - just maybe - her dad's been messing with her.
What, you may ask, is she referring to?
Why the christmas tree, of course.
If you ask here where it went (since we took it down to the curb during her naptime), she'll shrug, put her hands up in the air, palms up, and chirp "it walked away!"
Because perhaps - just maybe - her dad's been messing with her.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
A name by any other
I've always loved that quote about how a rose by any other name would still (or wouldn't? hmm) smell as sweet.
Ok, so my literary allusions are off tonight. Sue me. It's the night before the night before Christmas, and my eldest daughter (who believes in Santa) just asked for footed pajamas for Christmas. And I'm not even sure they make them in her size anymore. Huh. Yeah. Anyhoo, I'm tired and need to find footed jammies tomorrow....
where was I?
Oh yeah.
So the whole think about Jellybean's name is that it can be broken down into multiple nickname possibilities. Some of which I adore, others I'm not keen on, and some....meh - indifferent.
But there's one? One that - for whatever reason - I simply didn't think about. Maybe because it's boyish. Maybe because it doesn't seem to roll off my tongue naturally. Who knows.
Yesterday I gave Jellybean a quiz. I told her that she had multiple names she could go by - including her full given name - and asked who she was. What does she want to be called?
And wouldn't you know it? She pounded her chest with her open palm and said "I'm ______" - the one nickname I hadn't considered. Not even once.
Just goes to show you. She's her own girl. And I love her for it.
Ok, so my literary allusions are off tonight. Sue me. It's the night before the night before Christmas, and my eldest daughter (who believes in Santa) just asked for footed pajamas for Christmas. And I'm not even sure they make them in her size anymore. Huh. Yeah. Anyhoo, I'm tired and need to find footed jammies tomorrow....
where was I?
Oh yeah.
So the whole think about Jellybean's name is that it can be broken down into multiple nickname possibilities. Some of which I adore, others I'm not keen on, and some....meh - indifferent.
But there's one? One that - for whatever reason - I simply didn't think about. Maybe because it's boyish. Maybe because it doesn't seem to roll off my tongue naturally. Who knows.
Yesterday I gave Jellybean a quiz. I told her that she had multiple names she could go by - including her full given name - and asked who she was. What does she want to be called?
And wouldn't you know it? She pounded her chest with her open palm and said "I'm ______" - the one nickname I hadn't considered. Not even once.
Just goes to show you. She's her own girl. And I love her for it.
Terrible Twos
The terrible twos are upon us.
When Monkey was two, she was an....oddly logical creature. A Vulcan, if you will. You would stop a temper tantrum by giving her a reason - any logical reason - for the offending behavior. And she would stop her tantrum, adjust herself mentally with a shrug, and say OK. Done. Now, she still had some pretty f-reaking spectacular tantrums (there's one in my memory, of demanding multiple cookies, with echoing shrieks and screams of displeasure echoing across Columbia's campus....), but still - she was oddly logical and collected for an insane two year old. Three? Phew. Three was hard. But two? Two rocked.
Jellybean? I am thinking she is going to do the terrible twos up right. Tantrums. Time outs. Fisticuffs and shenanigans. After all, she already broke my nose.
But this is the weird part. She LIKES timeouts. In fact, she gives them to herself. Happily!
We're screwed.
When Monkey was two, she was an....oddly logical creature. A Vulcan, if you will. You would stop a temper tantrum by giving her a reason - any logical reason - for the offending behavior. And she would stop her tantrum, adjust herself mentally with a shrug, and say OK. Done. Now, she still had some pretty f-reaking spectacular tantrums (there's one in my memory, of demanding multiple cookies, with echoing shrieks and screams of displeasure echoing across Columbia's campus....), but still - she was oddly logical and collected for an insane two year old. Three? Phew. Three was hard. But two? Two rocked.
Jellybean? I am thinking she is going to do the terrible twos up right. Tantrums. Time outs. Fisticuffs and shenanigans. After all, she already broke my nose.
But this is the weird part. She LIKES timeouts. In fact, she gives them to herself. Happily!
We're screwed.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
My girls
Sunday was a rough day. We essentially cancelled Jellybean's second birthday party because she was just freakin' miserable. Fever, cough, boogers like snakes trying to charm her upper lip. Good times. I couldn't walk out of her line of sight without her going ballistic. And yet? It was perfect. She turned two and we celebrated, albeit quietly. She smiled (a bit), hugged us (a lot), and tried to enjoy her (demanded, and delivered) chocolate. That's my girl.
It's a good thing we called off the party, too. Because that evening? Monkey came down with the stomach flu. She puked one, took it like a champ, and went back to bed. But then....she continued puking. And puking. About every 30 minutes from 10:30pm - 3:30am. At the end she was dry heaving - more tears were making it into the bucket than anything else. She told me "it's hard being sick." So it is love, so it is. But the amazing part was when she figured out that I was "sleeping" on the floor of the front room where we'd sequestered her - and she commented that "daddy and jellybean must be lonely tonight" since we weren't with them. That's my girl.
They're my girls. Our girls. And they're perfect. (and - knock on wood - healthy again! phew)
It's a good thing we called off the party, too. Because that evening? Monkey came down with the stomach flu. She puked one, took it like a champ, and went back to bed. But then....she continued puking. And puking. About every 30 minutes from 10:30pm - 3:30am. At the end she was dry heaving - more tears were making it into the bucket than anything else. She told me "it's hard being sick." So it is love, so it is. But the amazing part was when she figured out that I was "sleeping" on the floor of the front room where we'd sequestered her - and she commented that "daddy and jellybean must be lonely tonight" since we weren't with them. That's my girl.
They're my girls. Our girls. And they're perfect. (and - knock on wood - healthy again! phew)
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