Archive for September, 2010

garden fail

This summer has been a total bust in the garden. We’ve gotten tomatoes–enough to eat some every couple of days (mostly cherry tomatoes), but not any for canning. We got a few squashes at the beginning of the summer and some basil. Almost everything collapsed in the heat. (It didn’t help that we were gone for a week in July…our neighbors watered for us, but not every day the way I would have in that heat.)

Anyway, bummer. But you’ll be pleased to hear that the cosmos, the Unkillable and Luckily Attractive Invasive Weed that I planted three summers ago, is flourishing, as usual.


car conversations

Mary gets very chatty in the car (perhaps because there are no toys to take up her attention). Today, she told me the following things on the way to and from dance class–which, by the way, was a fail, as she danced for half the class and then burst into tears, saying, “I have a booger and I don’t feel well!” Noted.

But, still, she told me the following:

* “My teacher says if you get blood all over the place you have to call your mama. And the ambulance.” (Turns out this is part of a lesson about safety with scissors.)

* “I danced and then I cried.” (Yes. That is true. That is what happened at dance class.)

* “Wesley can’t go to school until he’s bigger. When he’s grown up in ten minutes.” (Ten minutes!)

* “You have to be respectful of others! If someone touches you and you don’t like it, you can get up and walk away. That is respectful of others. Hollering is NOT respectful of others. You can always just walk away though.”

* Mary: “One is clean up. Two is put away the toys. Three is sit in your chair. Four is be quiet and don’t get any more toys.”

Me: “What’s five?”

Mary (mysteriously): “There is no five.”

ALSO, today:

Wesley has developed an ear infection to go with his disgusting and snotty cold. He is a gross, nasty mess–like any kid with a cold who is too young to blow his nose or remember to wipe it.

I took him to the pediatrician today and the receptionist said, “Well, Wesley, what seems to be the matter today?”

Wesley replied, “I really gross.”

overheard the other night

Our bedtime routine is as follows:

* kids and Conor go up to the guest room and read a chapter of the book they’re doing (right now it’s “Winnie the Pooh”), while I either join them or tend to a few housework things;

* I change diapers while Conor brushes their teeth;

* we read the last story (stories?).

The other night, for some reason, instead of reading their book, the kids made Conor draw pictures for them. When I came in, Wesley was begging Conor to draw a submarine.

Wesley: Sub-mean, Daddy! Another sub-mean!

(Conor begins to draw)

Wesley: Is it…is Mama? Is…..sub-mean? Is….tanker truck? Is octopus? Yeah, is octopus!

(It was actually John Lennon looking through the porthole of the Yellow Submarine.)

Conor: I already drew you a submarine! And a dog, and a cat, and a horse, and two cars, and a tractor, and John Lennon. What more do you want?

Wesley: Sub-mean! Another sub-mean!

synonym city

Wesley is really into synonyms right now. Any time he can come up with more than one word for a situation, he tells you both.

Example: Mary said, “I’m tired, Mama. I want to take a nap.”

Wesley said, “I’m tired, too. I’m tired ALSO.”

I said, “Are you tired as well?”

He said, “Yeah. I’m tired as…as well.”

He cracks me up.

This morning he said, “Are you my mother?” (He’s been reading that book.) I said, “Yes, I am!” and he asked, “Are you my mother? Mama? Ma? Mommy?”

A few minutes ago he said, “I like the pig!” and then paused for a minute and said, “I like the pig. I love the pig. I think the pig is cute. It’s a very nice pig.”

What a nut. Conversations with him  are hilarious. It’s like talking to an alien who ALMOST understands Earth customs.

so, Mary has a cold.

She’s home from school today, sniffling and blowing her nose.

She asked me, “Mama, can I have popcorn for lunch? I’m still kinda sick and I think maybe I need popcorn with seasoning on it for lunch.” Opportunist.

how Conor has formed Mary in his own image

Wesley: I’m hungry!

Mary: Hi, Hungry! I’m Mary!

playground, pub–all the hot spots.

Playground pictures!


vroom vroom….beep BEEP!


….and a bonus: Mary chilling at the pub, wearing angel wings, fairy skirt, Yellow Submarine t-shirt, sunglasses. This, incidentally, is what I plan to wear to my dissertation defense.