We have a somewhat flexible house rule that the kids can’t come in the kitchen. I say ‘somewhat flexible’ because Mara can come in to help empty the dishwasher or to get her vitamin or occasionally to play with refrigerator letters (if Micah is sleeping). And Micah can come in if he is putting away sippy cups or throwing his diaper in the trash.
So enforcement of that rule can be tricky.
For me, anyway.
But here’s Mara to Micah: “Don’t go in the kitchen again, or I’ll have to give you away!”
You know how cartoons always involve classical music? Well, I had a CD playing, when Mara gasped and announced, “This is Ratatouille!”
“Actually, it’s another Beethoven cello sonata. Can you say ‘cello’?” I asked her.
But she shook her head: “I can’t–I’m eating my dinner. I can’t talk when I’m eating my dinner.”
Wow, that’s never stopped you before.
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Mara recounting our weekend retreat:
“But first we went to Mickle-donalds,” she explained. “There are two Mickle-donalds. [She knows about one in the city, and she knows we stopped at a different McDonalds on the way to the mountains.] And they have drinks and stuff,” she added. “And ice cream . . .”
“And chicken and ranch,” I threw in, since she always calls it ‘chicken and ranch’ at home.
“It’s called ‘chicken nuggets,'” she corrected me.
“Yes, Mara, chicken nuggets.”
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Mara, introducing our family to someone she meets at church: “I’m Mara . . . This is my mommy, Becky. Becky,” she repeated, as if the person might not pronounce it properly. “And this is Micah . . . And this is my husband–Daddy!”
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Mara looking at a bell-shaped cookie cutter: “Oh, look, Mommy, the Liber-ree Bell! We went to the Liber-ree Bell with Aunt Mary!” (I didn’t think she would remember.)
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Hearing Micah’s cries after another unreasonably short nap, I said, “Oh my goodness, tell me he’s not up yet!”
And Mara obliged. “He’s not up yet,” she said to me.
Then calling to Micah’s room, she shouted, “Micah!–you’re not up yet!”
I only wish it were that simple.
If there hadn’t been a Susan B. Anthony, I’m sure someday Mara Joy would have become a household name among those demanding equal rights.
No matter why Micah gets attention, Mara wants equal attention. If we praise him for toddling across the room, she staggers across, imitating him. If we praise him for how he feeds himself, she gingerly lifts her spoon to her mouth, dribbling food down her chin. (Hey–it worked for him!) If we praise him for saying ‘Da-da-da-da,” then . . . well, you can guess what she says (equally loudly). Right now, she is banging a cookie cutter on the wall, her mouth gaping wide, staring blankly at me as she blinks while listening to the sound it makes, because Micah is banging a cookie cutter on the wall, mouth gaping wide, staring blankly at me while blinking and listening to the sound it makes.
Someone needs to learn that life isn’t fair, and we don’t all get equal treatment. . .
Nonetheless, this morning, Mara announced, “I’m going to be drouble!” (This coming after Micah had recently knocked a lamp off an end table, shattering the light bulb, and then opened a drawer, inadvertently discovering, to his delight, a whole package of new light bulbs.)
So, of course, my curiousity was piqued. “Why are you going to be trouble?”
“Because Micah bee-ed drouble!. . . I’m going to get out the light bulbs, and you’re going to say ‘Mawa, don’t be in drouble!'”
I took a bunch of “outdoorsy” shots of the kids last weekend on the church retreat. For most readers, I’m sure this post screams “MOMMM!!” loud and clear. . .
You will see over a dozen shots of the same two kids playing in the same few square feet of earth over a total of nine minutes while we walked, in the way that only toddlers do, from the main lodge to the house where the nursery was located.
Soooo. . . you have been warned!
And for my family and anyone else dying to see more pics of the kids (or as Mara says, ‘tids’): well, I couldn’t decide which of these I liked best. So here they are!
Enjoy Mara’s incessant chatter throughout the pictures. And Micah’s smile–he’s always happiest outside!
Three little ancedotes:
Lately Mara has asked over and over and over to read her book about going to the dentist. She’s never been to the dentist, but since reading this book, she’s taken a great interest in dentists–and braces.
“See?” she said, through her raisin-filled mouth. “I have braces! See the wires on my teeth?”
I had to post this picture, primarily for my sister, because I remember us as children using random food pieces for pretend braces . . .
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And . . . you know you’ve gone wrong somewhere, when your daughter holds up her plate at dinner and says, “Look! It’s a picture of my flam-ah-lee!”
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This morning, when I put her in booktime, I told her, “While you’re in book time, Mommy is going to take her shower and read her Bible.”
“You don’t want to do that!” she exclaimed. “You’ll get the pages all wet!”