Conor has the kids every weekday morning now. He just sent me a message asking, “How did my life come to emphatically, repeatedly, sternly proclaiming: ‘Wesley! Don’t put the block in the duck!’?”
Archive for January, 2010
I have been looking at options for getting Mary a toddler bed. We may just make one; we know what she would like. But that would be time-consuming and might be just as expensive as buying one, I don’t know. Anyway. Isn’t this cute?
I would like to get her a twin-sized bed, because then it would last her a lot longer, but there’s no room in their room for it. So, toddler bed it is. She’ll get a few years out of it and then maybe Wesley can use it (although he may outgrow such a thing faster than she does). One of these days we’ll get around to getting one for her and I bet she’s going to be so excited. She’s such a big kid these days.
Tomorrow is the first day of my new semester. I will never get over how much I *love* a new semester. I always have, from the time I was a freshman undergrad. Everything is nice and new: new students, new syllabus, new texts…and I haven’t forgotten anyone’s name yet or mislaid anyone’s paper.
Nothing like a blank new notebook and a roster full of students I haven’t yet met to make me happy.
Conor suggested that we add an 11th category to my list–movies! These are all films that we have wanted to see, but that have either seemed like too much work or been too long or whatever. We have quite a backlog. The problem, aside from sometimes being limited to things that won’t give the kids nightmares, is that by the time they’re in bed [usually not until at least 11], I’m more in the mood for James Bond than Ingmar Bergman. Or I don’t have my glasses on or want to knit, so I don’t want anything too demanding or anything subtitled. Anyway. Here’s our list!
1. Wild Strawberries — Ingmar Bergman
2. Elevator to the Gallows — Louis Malle
3. Le Cercle Rouge — Jean-Pierre Melville
4. Birth of a Nation — D.W. Griffith
5. Two Women — Vittorio De Sica
6. Pan’s Labyrinth — Guillermo del Toro
7. Battleship Potemkin — Sergei M. Eisenstein
8. City of God — Fernando Meirelles/Katia Lund
9. F for Fake — Orson Welles
10. Flag of Our Fathers/Letters from Iwo Jima — Clint Eastwood
There are also a few rules:
A. Watch after kids go to bed.
B. All lights off except the lamp–that is, a decent movie-viewing environment.
C. No pauses.
D. I need to wear my glasses.
There you have it. We embarked tonight, starting with “Wild Strawberries.” It is an odd film. I really like the performance by Victor Sjöström, who plays the main character. It is a little harder for me to get behind the script, as all of the women [except for the aged housekeeper] are crazy bitches. It is lovely to watch, though–interesting, beautiful cinematography. And, as I say, Sjöström alone is worth watching it for.
(Wesley, lying on the futon, snuggles into a blanket.)
Mary: Aww…. you look sleepy, honey!
Me: He does, doesn’t he? Should we go up for naptime?
Mary: Wesley should. I should eat a cupcake and then watch “Dr. Who” and play with toys.
Mary: That’s okay, right?
Three, and (almost) 19 months–these are great ages for kids. They’re cracking me up daily. Here are a couple of highlights from yesterday:
* The phone rang while I was changing Wesley’s diaper. Mary yelled, “Answer it, answer phone!” I said (well, snapped, perhaps), “I’ll answer it as soon as I can!” and Mary said, in this totally reasonable voice–as though speaking to a mental patient–“It’s okay, Mom. I’m not going to FORCE you.”
* Wesley, who is learning words and sentences by leaps and bounds, held up a book and said, “Book!” I agreed that it was a book and he grinned and said, “Happy book!” I said, “The book makes you happy?” and he said “Make BOOK happy!” and sat down to read it.
* Wesley has also just started agreeing to be under a blanket, ever. We sat down to watch a movie last night and he said “Blanket!” We tucked the blanket that we were using around him and he smiled very sweetly and snuggled up to it. Adorable.
* Mary drew a snail and a bunch of letters yesterday. Semi-recognizable ones. She’s been drawing balloons that actually look like balloons, too.
* Wesley gave me a hug yesterday, complete with a sweet little pat on the arm. I said, “Aww, thank you for the hug!” and he said, “I hug you!” I said, “That’s very nice, buddy. I love you!” and he said, “Lub oo!” Then he looked around, located Mary, trotted over to her, hugged her, and said, “Lub Mary!”
Can it get cuter than that?
We visited some friends–Conor’s pal Ryan and his wife Jill (and their son, Noah), and Ryan’s parents, Marc and Janie. Noah is about Wesley’s age, give or take, so the kids had a great time. (They particularly enjoy hogging someone else’s toys.)
Wesley and Noah:
Noah and Jill…and Wesley hatching some kind of plan in the corner:
They loved Noah’s rocking horse.
Noah and Jill:
Wesley was also very interested in this ball:
Noah and Ryan:
Then we went sledding (well…I only actually went down the hill once, as I am an idiot and traveled to Michigan in January with only my Crocs for shoes).
Marc got Conor and Wesley ready to go:
…and added Mary.
Mary watched, between turns:
Noah and Janie:
…and sibling pic:
…and family pic!