Recent Conversations/Monologues

I asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday and she instantly answered, "I want to celebrate with [hand gestures] a big beautiful cake with some tulips on it. Lots of tulips."

R, while playing in her room: "Mama, COME HERE! Please."

Me: Ok, but could you please say that again as a question?

R: It's not a question.

She was trying to tell me where something (can't remember what) was and she said, "It's over there, just past the overtangle." Just past the what? "The overtangle." The overtangle turned out to be a photograph we have hanging near our bedroom. But then she said actually that piece of art wasn't really an overtangle, so I said, "Can show show me which ones are overtangles?" and she pointed to two different works and said, "Just that one and that one are overtangles because that guy didn't paint any others."

Annual T'Giving Report

We celebrate Thanksgiving at Jason's parents house in the Berkshires every year. Once, a few years back, the oven door fell off its hinges first thing Thanksgiving morning. It got pretty hairy. In retrospect maybe that was a good thing because we've had something pretty basic to be thankful for each year since. It stayed on this year. Good year!

Three cousins fishing:

Rosemary running with rainbow stick-ribbon thing from cousin Mimi. Thanks Mimi! It is a big hit. (And sweater made by knitter extraordinaire Mimi for Sam in the early 1970s, incidentally.)

Dash and Rosie:

Talking and singing at the little table. They were trying to remember the words to Old McDonald on their own.

Elijah surrounded by thugs:

Okay, that was actually Elijah winning a game of touch football.

Rosie throwing the ball to Uncle John:

I can't believe I didn't get a single picture of anyone playing Sorry this weekend, since basically it was one big fat fun Sorry tournament, punctuated by occasional rounds of Mastermind. Elijah has been playing Sorry at school and so we all ended up getting into it. Here's one of R sneaking in a round of Mastermind (albeit only the peg-putting-in part of Mastermind).

Happy Thanksgiving!

Rosemary napped as we drove up from the city to the Berkshires, and when she woke up she overheard us talking about an article Jason had read about a guy who tried to cook a heritage turkey, but had a hard time finding an appropriate recipe because it was only 8 pounds. R had been quiet for about two hours when she suddenly perked up and said, increduously, "Cooking a BIRD? That's so silly!"

Close Encounters of the Doll Kind, Part II

And then on Saturday we stopped by a cool store on Smith Street. I'm sorry to say I can't recall what its name is, because they've got amazing selection of old toys and other vintage thingees, and equally amazing new hand-knitted hats and scarves. (As classic a Smith Street combination these days as, say, grass-fed, locally grown pork belly and organic baby kale shoots.) Plus, the owner is lovely and does not mind when 2 year olds put their greasy mitts on giant, slightly scary Barbie and try to undress her.

R hanging out in the front on the rocking chair that the store owner specially brought out for her to sit on.

Roadside Attraction

We walk by this vintage stuff store on our way to and from school and in the afternoons they usually have racks of clothes and boxes of old magazines and sheet music outside. We never pay much attention. But last Thursday they simplified their display and offered up only a cozy little trio of china dolls. I especially like the decorative touch of the bungee cord. Rosemary stopped to admire what she identified as "two moms with their baby," posed proudly for pictures with them, and refused to leave for about 15 minutes. Somehow I only got so-so pictures but the whole thing was so funny I had to put it up.

Want a closer look?

Chocolate!

(Pronounced "sho-co-LAHT," the way my wonderful Grandmama always said it. Writing that I can just hear her say, "I'll have a cappuccino with just a sprinkle of chocolate on top" as she wiggles her fingers around in a sprinkling gesture.)

Anyhow, chocolate. It's always big around here but yesterday I had a funny conversation with Rosemary about it. We were at a shop yesterday that had Hanukkah gelt. Her Grandmama (Jason's mom) brought her a little bag of it last week, so naturally Rosie gravitated toward it right away. She asked to look at it several times, and finally pulled one down from the shelf, held it tenderly in her hand like a baby chick, and then after a fashion started trying to poke a pinky finger through the mesh. When I said we were just looking at it, not buying it and not eating it, she said, "I know. I'm just remiring it." Jason smartly described that as a new word somewhere in between remembering and admiring. We will be working it in.

An Elephant

Rosemary's teacher wrote down this story that she told today at school. Nice of her to email it to us.

An Elephant
He fell down and got a blister on his foot. His mommy made it feel better, but sometimes that doesn't make it feel better. He put a band-aid on it. A dinosaur is his mommy. Sometimes everybody comes over dinner. They have funny names, but they can really talk.

Miss Mix-A-Lot's Buttermilk Biscuits

Here's what happens when you buy buttermilk. It lurks in your fridge for 4 weeks at which point you chuck it, or it lurks in your fridge for 3 weeks and then, in a race against time, you start all sorts of unusual baking projects. Only unusual in that I rarely bake. On Friday we made biscuits and I figured for once I'd let Rosemary be in charge. Baking together always seems like a good idea, but usually ends up in frustration + mess, since one of us wonders why, if you can dip the spoon in the baking powder once and then put it in the bowl, can't you do it five times?

Anyway, I figured biscuits were a little less finicky than other baked stuff, so I put a big sheet down on the floor and let R be in charge. I measured, she dumped and stirred. We had a good time (despite how serious she looks here).

What's Fair

The other night, after Halloween candy collection was complete, we were discussing consumption of said candy with Rosemary. Jason and I agreed she could eat two pieces that night, and one every day thereafter until it was gone. I considered this a pretty good deal since my inclination was really to give her two pieces on Halloween night and then spirit the rest away forever. Into my belly. But Rosemary looked at us and said, "But--but--that's not fair." I feel like some of these things that kids say are like mushrooms or fruit flies, they just sprout up out of nowhere when the conditions are right.

She continues to work it in, like this morning when I told her after breakfast I'd put on a Sesame Street while she went to wash her hands. She was really amped for some reason, can't recall why. "All right!!" she screamed, sounding a lot like Bobcat Goldthwait. "That sounds FAIR!"

Boo in the Zoo + Halloween

We took our tiger to Boo in the Zoo at Prospect Park Zoo the other day:

A scary ghoul took our picture, as you might gather from R's horrified expression.

Rosemary's Halloween costume was a redux from last year's back up. It was the end of a long discussion of possible costumes that included:

a) cookies and cream

b) lightening

c) witch

d) spider witch

e) lightening spider

f) silver witch

And as it so often is w/ a toddler, the correct answer is

g) none of the above

Trick or treating in Cobble Hill is always equal parts fun and insane. Some places (good candy distribution sites) are as crowded as a 5 train at rush hour. Brooklyn is about the best place I've ever seen on Halloween because people sit outside on their stoops so you don't have to do all that pesky doorbell ringing. Rosemary had a great time for about 25 minutes and then was done. Honestly, I think she had a premonition that any further candy would probably be confiscated and consumed by grown ups, so what was the point.

As a special bonus in this one you can see me dressed up as aging Poison frontman Bret Michaels.

Roar V. Moo

Despite appearances the cow (Peter, one of R's dear buddies) totally held his own.

Deep Breakfast Thought

Said yesterday while eating a bowl of O's and gazing out the window at the apartment building across the way: "If we were living in that house, we'd be using someone else's potty."

Two and Three-Quarters

What is half of two and three-quarters?

Halloween, Just Around the Corner

Brooklynites are getting their decorations up. Here's one Rosemary wanted to stop to check out on our walk to school this morning:

October Pix

All tricked out for Halloween. Those are Halloween pants and we discovered there is a hole in them, prompting R to sing all week long, "There's a hole in the bottom of my pants! There's a watermelon on the hole in the bottom of my pants!" to the tune of "There's a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea," which I think she learned at school.

A few from apple picking in Connecticut yesterday:

Note the ginormous watermelon above, which I guess it what she should have been sitting on given the song she made up. Below, Rosie and Beatrice taking a load off courtesy Bea's dad Dale:

Big girl bed. Transition from crib was a crazy success. Hallelujah:

Playing Candyland. Her way.

Licker Fan

Rosemary has been known to eat a brussels sprout or two, so last night when we roasted some with maple syrup-roasted, I put a couple on her plate. She started to eat one and then decided just to lick all the maple syrup off instead. Jason or I, can't remember which, said, "I thought you were a fan of brussels sprouts?" to which she said, "No. I'm a licker fan." Welcome to the family. But not for 18 1/4 more years, missy.

On another topic, there are a couple of things she says that I don't want her to stop saying, or at least I don't want to forget:

Blanklet instead of blanket

Crumeshan cheese instead of Parmesan cheese.

School's Neighborhood

School is still cool. It's like some secret society though, since they don't let us come in past the cubbies. (Have I said that already? Probably, sorry about that.) A lot of nursery schools have secret viewing windows, but at R's school they smartly keep the grownups out of the classroom spaces.

Anyhow, today Rosemary's teacher sent us this picture of the neighborhood they've been building together. Not too exciting unless you have been hearing tell of it for the past few weeks. It has everything you need: house, house, playground, park, airport, restaurant, chocolate shop. Looking at this picture I can't quite see how they navigate around it without knocking it all to pieces but I guess they make it work!

A Conversation

Rosemary to Jason this morning, while they were playing in her room: "Jennifer should say goodbye."

Jason: "Who's Jennifer?"

Rosemary: "You."

Fort Tilden

We set out today to go to Floyd Bennett Field, the abandoned airport-turned-parkland in Brooklyn. Turns out Sat not Sun is the day to do this - they have a hangar full of old airplanes and a visitor center, both open only Saturday. Not a bust though. To paraphrase Jason, it was one of those outings where we think we're in uncharted territory, but of course nothing in Brooklyn is uncharted territory. We stumbled upon girls' gymnastics in a big airplane hangar, and model car racing somewhere outdoors. Heard it first rather than saw, as it sounds like killer robot bees from Africa flying by. (Here is someone else's video that looks/sounds basically the same.)

Then we decided to go over the bridge into Rockaway to walk on the beach at Fort Tilden. It was gorgeous. Just a few fisherman and a few other people running their children and/or dogs. Sparkling day. Here is Rosie taking a pretend picture of us:

And us sitting on "the square" as Rosie called it.

Chelsea Morning

We three went to Chelsea to see some gallery shows today. Art, at least a lot of it, hasn't been Rosemary's thing lately. I have been dragging her occasionally anyhow, but I think we'll cool it for now. Paintings and sculptures and photographs are pretty boring, and videos are interesting but tend to freak her out if they're loud or in an immersive environment an any sort. Usually we go in somewhere and after about 15 seconds she just looks at me and says, "Let's get out of here."

Today we went into see Pipilotti Rist's show at Luhring Augustine gallery, which has big videos of sheep in it (therefore of potential interest), but when we got there she graciously declined to go in. Even when I told her that there was a big hanging sculpture made of underpants in the back room:

She told me it was "too gallery-y." Instead we went to a park (new to us) called the Chelsea Waterside Park for a good runaround.

Apples and Pears

Here are a few pix (and picks) from, I think, Labor Day weekend? Not sure exactly, but not so long ago. Now it's thoroughly turned to fall in the Berkshires, so these pictures feel ancient. There are two old apple trees up there. We don't know what kind they are, but in the past they have both produced lots of puny, bumpy apples that are tart and delicious if you can find a place worth biting. I guess it must be a great year for apples because this year we got tons of delicious, pretty decently sized ones. We have applesauce coming out of our ears. And actually out of our freezer, too, since there is just not enough room in our city freezer for a country bumper crop. My mom once broke her toe when a container of meat fell out of her freezer on to it. I should be careful. (Broke, Mom? Do I have that right?)

Oh, and there's a much newer pear tree, too, that was not to be outdone.

Here's one R took a special liking to:

Overheard

Jason gave Rosie a carrot yesterday. She ate some, then handed it back. He said, "Do you want anymore? If not I'm going to toss it." (This often leads to reconsideration and more bites.) She said no. But then, instead, he took a bite. She said, "Toss it into your mouth?"

And, an unrelated bonus: here's the price I pay for making dinner. A pen-and-torn-paper angel? That used to be one giant piece of paper.

School Report

Three weeks in and Rosemary has already been too sick for school (but not too sick for the playground) two times. Today is one of those times. I take this as a sign of meeting new bugs after a summer of being mostly outdoors, plus me not wanting to press her into going there in these first few weeks, even when she is probably okay to go.

I know. Softy.

It's been fun deducing what they do there by the limited pieces of info we get. Sometimes the toddler snippets are later explained by teacher's daily reports. The other day they explored primary and secondary colors by setting up the kids in pairs with single colors to paint with. Rosemary was working on an easel with another kid (she had yellow, he had blue), and when she ran out to meet me after school she said, "I MADE GREEEEEEN!" I asked her how and she said, more quietly, "I don't know." Her teacher said she and her easel mate got really excited about it, but didn't quite understand how it happened. Then the teacher read Little Yellow and Little Blue, the old Leo Lionni classic. I really love this school so far.

The other day she got Jason, my mom and dad, and I to line up before going outside.

Last Wednesday, she flashed me the two-fingered peace sign and said "That means peace, mom." They apparently do this when they go to the park - to focus attention, I guess. I actually recall doing this at my first grade school. Also, she told me one day "I put you in a box, Mommy," which sounded alarming but yesterday the school sent the lyrics to some of the songs they sing, including:

Oh I wish I had,

A little Red Box, (make box shape with hands)

To put my Mommy in.

I’d take her out,

Go mwah, mwah, mwah (kiss tips of fingers)

And put her back again.

Actually, it still sounds alarming.

An aside: a few times yesterday when I asked her to repeat something I didn't understand, she said, "I can't. That was a one-time story."

Channeling Brett

These glasses continue to be A-list prop around here. Does she remind you of any B-list celebrity?

Weekend of Antics

We are winding down from a wonderful weekend visit from my parents. It was sort of culinary whirlwind culminating in last night's dinner with Jason's parents at Gramercy Tavern (aka "fancy restaurant") where Rosemary behaved incredibly well. Everyone who works there was unbelievably lovely and normal about having a toddler around, and while our super friendly waiter seemed somewhat taken aback when Rosemary told him (some time after he'd brought dessert around), "I'm going to use the potty. I'm not done with my dessert. I'm just taking a break," he rallied pretty quickly.

Jason and Rosemary, matched in pink, on their way to said fancy restaurant:

Wait, did I say it culminated in Gramercy Tavern? There was also the Atlantic Antic today. Best street fair on the planet. It runs along Atlantic Ave, near our house, from Hicks ten blocks down to 4th Avenue. In that span we ate: spinach feta pie, salt cod fritter, salty French fries, Vietnamese tofu sandwich, a second salt cod fritter from a totally different place, Six Points beer, actual sarsparilla, Mexican horchata. And that's not even counting what my parents ate. Lesson of the day: if it is fried, our daughter will eat it. (If it is a Vietnamese tofu sandwich, she will not.)

Leading Questions

R, pointing at counter: What's that?
Me: What's what?
R: That, up there. The shiny things.
Me: Oh, those are your big coins (Two giant plastic dimes are on counter.)
R: No. The squares. The little squares to eat. [Pauses.] Chocolate?
Me: Yes, chocolate. (They are delicious Fiddle Fern Fudge, brought home from the Berkshires
R, all innocent: For me?

Kid Logics

Yesterday Rosemary baffled me by asking for "hamster crackers." She explained she'd had them "yesterday...one week ago...with some O's" and then I finally realized what she was after was oyster crackers.

Also: the other day I was packing up some old clothes and came upon some underpants my parents gave her at last Christmas. Six pairs of the cutest undees you've ever seen (owls, peace signs, puffy clouds), all tucked away during the summer of potty training after a wise neighborhood mom friend suggested using the old-school thicker training underwear. I asked Rosemary to try on the owl undees and she said, "NOOOOOO!" and backed away like she was a vampire and I had a fistful of garlic. I asked her why and she calmly said, "Those are my winter underpants."

Duh, mama.

In other news, school's going well. This morning (her second full day) she basically ditched me in the coatroom. I was left trying to kiss her cheek as she turned to head into class with a teacher. Right on. I think each day's a little different, especially as these first-timers start to figure out this is an ongoing event. The other day after I explained R had two more days of school that week, she said to me, "And then that's it?" But I think she likes it and likes explaining to me how things are done.

This morning she reiterated to me that, on the topic of the TV show Yo Gabba Gabba (often my morning crutch so I can get her to sit still while I put hair into ponytails, etc.) she is "pretty much over this." I asked why and she said, "Because I'm bigger." For now she's into "The Red Balloon" instead. I watched this many times as a kid, and recalled it as being 100% bo-ring. (Actually, I think it was something they made us watch on substitute teacher days? Was this ubiquitous or just Candalaria Elementary School?) Anyhow, now it's quite charming. 1950s Paris, how could it not be? We've got an old red balloon here and she likes to sit it down beside her as she watches.

What the What?

We've spent an inordinate amount of time this summer talking about lightening and thunder. Or maybe disproportionate is the word, since we've had relatively few storms but Rosemary brings them up often. They are clearly linked, in her mind, with fireworks, which interest her in theory but scare her in reality. Thunder and lightening seem to scare her in theory but just interest her in reality. She never seems too freaked out when we actually have one.

This is a good thing, since yesterday we had a doozy. Lucky us, we were safe at home. Just barely, since we had walked in the door a minute before. The sky turned green -- really green and really dark -- and the rain came down in a terrific whoosh. Then the rain started going up - FAST - and leaves were swirling, and then everything just went to white. There was just so much rain and wind that we couldn't see a thing out the window except a few leaves swirling by. And we have two huge windows in our living room with quite a wide view. This

was when it occurred to me it might be wise to back away from our huge windows. I half expected to see a cow fly by.

At the time, I turned to my friend Lauren, who was over, and said, "Is this a tornado?" thinking, yes, that must be what it was. Bijs, Lauren's daughter, and Rosemary, were running around talking about thunder and lightening and rain, but they seemed jazzed more than freaked out. According to WNYC the National Weather Service is sending a meteorologist today to determine whether it was a tornado or not. It's probably more than just one guy -- most likely a crack team -- but I love the idea that there is just this one dude who turns up and divines what exactly it was.

Update: It was a tornado. Actually, two tornadoes and something called a macroburst. And looking back at my pictures I just remembered what kept Rosemary and Bijs busy during the storm: wobbling around on super-sized, wrong-foot galoshes.

It begins!

First day of preschool, to which Rosemary said she wanted "to wear my ballerina tutu with a pink shirt that matches my ballerina tutu." She consented to wearing a different twirly skirt instead.

Father-daughter backpacks:

Full report on school to come later. Jason and I both went there to meet her teachers, who are lovely, and see the school, which is brand new. There are just 6 kids in her class: 5 boys + Rosemary! Hopefully she can lure a few of them to hang out with her in the play kitchen, since dollars to doughnuts that is where she will want to spend her time. Her class will also spend quite a bit of time with the bigger, ever-so-slightly older class next door, which has more girls.