tuesday tidbits: 03/14/12

I've written about five posts in my head over the last two weeks, and none of them are coming back here. In the warped world that is the blogosphere, the present is both rich and elusive.

Alviso Marina County Park

I wanted to write about going out on a family hike with Sava's "best friend" from school and her parents; about the joy of watching young children--friends--explore nature with abandon;

about reading through all of The Secret Garden with Sava and feeling inspired, reassured, and comforted by the book's message that time spent outside is the best healer for physical and emotional discomfort;

building house at Picchetti Ranch

about the satisfaction of hearing Sava ask on Saturday night, "So, where are we going tomorrow?" without even a smidgen of doubt that we are going somewhere on Sunday morning;

about feeling bummed that we've already "sprung forward" and, if I want to run under the stars as I have been doing all winter, I have to run even later in the day;

accordion clouds at Alviso

about moments of profound connection to my daughter while reading to her any number of books at her request;

about the excitement of planning a trip to Montana this summer--the second for Sava and the first for Raya--along with visions of friends, rivers, and rocky mountains.

trying to sneak out to the wine-tasting room at Picchetti 

Instead, I feel compelled to note Sava woke up this morning with a 103-degree fever, and he went to sleep with a 103-degree fever. In between, on my first day off work this year, I had the ungenerous thought, more than once, that having a sick kid is not all bad. The opportunities to snuggle for extended periods of time, to read books, talk nonsense, and comfort with mere presence make illness a respite of sorts from the race of daily life. Illness equals slowing down. Slowing down equals goodness in my book.

So, with that short preamble, on to my stack of voluminous notes on--
:::
Stuff They Say

We are starting to figure out that, in a manner that calls the word manic to mind, Raya tends to focus on things intensely for short periods of time. For instance, a month or so ago, she went overnight from showing NO interest in the alphabet to being obsessed with it, and she learned to recognize every capital letter in the course of a single weekend while looking at a page from an I Spy book. She has reliably known her capital letters since.

captive in the car seat, waiting to pick up big brother

Similarly, last week she went through a spurt of saying "thank you" about everything to everyone, regardless of whether or not a thank-you was required.

Just a few of the many I wrote down:

Completely unprompted at the end of a hike, to a family of friends as they were packing up:
Thank you for coming with us on a hike! 
To our neighbors who had stopped by:
Thank you for coming to our house!
To her dad at dinner:
Thank you, Tati, for bringing my water to the table!
And my absolute favorite, to her dad, who had just put a pair of underpants over her diaper, per her request:
Thank you, Tati, for adjusting my underwear!

:::
Speaking of underwear, one of the pair of underpants which she likes to put over her diaper has a fairy on the front of it. After Rado put it on the other day, she started scratching her parts for whatever reason, and then inquired in a most serious voice:

Hey, mommy, do you scratch your fairies when you put them on?

Yup, her dad howled with laughter at that one.

:::
Sava and I read an article about elephant seals in a children's magazine. The article noted that elephant seals who are new parents spend a month on land, not eating even a single bite, while caring for their pups, to which Sava replied with undisguised scorn:

Huh? I wouldn't want to be a parent of one of those! 

:::
I was putting hot pepper flakes on my soup a few nights ago. Raya:

Mommy, can I have some of these flakes?
No, because they are hot.
Can I wait until they cool off?

making an escape, as always

:::
A few mornings ago, Sava got upset about something we had done, which of course I no longer remember. Then we got upset with him for moaning and crying like a baby. When we asked him why he was being so precious, he replied as in a court of law:

If you disappoint me, then I disappoint you.

Righty-o.
:::
On another occasion, when Sava was crying crocodile tears at the table and Raya, in her usual manner, was desperate to 1) copy him and 2) draw attention to herself, she asked:

Can I have one tear, Sava?

he's finally feeling comfortable enough to read to her from time to time

:::
Tonight while I made her a ponytail before bath so that her hair wouldn't get wet, she declared most seriously:

I like being ponytailed!

singing on a makeshift stage at Picchetti

:::
Rado reports that when he took to Sava to school late one morning, after both of us had made a fuss about his eating his breakfast much too slowly, the following dialogue ensued:
Look, Tati, we're not late, there are all these cars!
Rado: We are late, and these people are also late.
Yeah! Plus, I'm sure they've already yelled at their kids for not finishing their breakfast on time! 

:::
We are having one of the driest winters on record in Northern California, and I wake up every morning hoping that it would rain. I'd like those creeks and ponds to be full for summer play. Sava does not share my enthusiasm, but brother has an eye for beauty.

The only time I like rain is when it's morning and I can see raindrops on the branches. It's as if there are diamonds in the trees and I really like it.

:::
At school he most often plays with one or all of three girls, which is a whole other topic. When I picked him up one day and asked him what he he had played with N, he replied:

Bunnies in the White House!

If his reports are to be believed, they also play "doctor," "family," "humming birds," and "secret garden."
:::
Another of Raya's recent obsessions is wishful statements about impossible scenarios. About Sava's PE teacher, for instance, whom we see daily at pick-up:

I wish Mr. S could be my dad! 

:::
While Rado was feeding her lunch and yawning the other day:

Hey, tati, what are you yawning about?

we love watching her play with trains

:::
And my favorite one of the past two weeks? The one that has me giggling whenever I think of it, often a few times each day?

We were driving late at night after a dinner with friends in San Francisco. It was way past their bedtime, and Sava was desperately trying to fall asleep. I had instructed Raya to either stay quiet or else whisper. After about twenty seconds of strained silence, her raspy, eager whisper broke the silence:

Hey, Sava, did you know that Santa is a GUY??

When her brother mumbled an indistinct something in response:

Hey, Mommy, WHY is Santa a GUY??

Dear lord, help us all.
:::
Lastly, just a few remaining bits and pieces.

I love watching these two talk read and talk about airplanes. The transference of certain very particular genes never ceases to amaze me.

:::
And I love watching these two figuring out ways to be together. It's not always smooth sailing--not even close--but the moments when things do click feel like magic.

They do especially well teasing each other and acting silly:

:::
Last but far from least, spring is here. Everything is blossoming, and I keep dreaming of impossible scenarios to spend much if not all of our days outside.

Happy Tuesday.