Letter to a Home Town - What do I tell Her?

On the May 23^rd Elliot Roger went on a killing spree in a California college town. On May 26^th, my Daughter the Elder turned 13. These two events should have nothing to do with each other, but they do. Elliot Roger’s motive was clearly documented. Among other things his misogynistic rants and writings detailed how he wanted to enact retribution on women for rejecting his advances. By all estimations my daughter is becoming a woman. 

The extreme actions of Elliot Roger, while obviously those of a mentally disturbed individual, did not happen in a vacuum. There is an undeniably misogynistic layer of our culture that deeply impacts the way that women live their everyday lives. Not all men participate in the degradation of women, but enough do that all women are taught to prepare themselves physically and mentally for the seemingly inevitable.

As she becomes a woman, what do I tell my daughter about the way she dresses? Do I praise her modesty when she chooses to wear shorts that come below the knee? I know it is because she is not yet comfortable in her changing body. Puberty is awkward for everybody. I want her to be comfortable in her skin but at the same time I feel a sense of relief at her choice to dress in a way that does not convey overt sexuality. It is safer because, welcome or not, that new body will draw attention.

As she becomes a woman, what do I tell my daughter about keeping her body safe? Do I remind her that her years of martial arts training can help to protect her in case of an assault?  I know that she would not hesitate to defend herself from a stranger, but if it were someone she knows… She doesn’t like to cause a scene. I want her to feel secure in her ability to defend herself even if that person is someone she or we thought was trustworthy. How do I do that without implying that no one is trustworthy?

As she becomes a woman, what do I tell my daughter about saying what she means? Do I keep encouraging her to speak up, assuring her that her voice will be heard? How can I not feel a tinge of hypocrisy when she tells me she has been coached to yell “fire” before “help” because it is a more effective way to get people to respond? All I can truly assure her is that I will listen…

There is little solace to be found in tragedies like this: the death of six people and injury of 13 others at the hands of a deranged man with a vendetta against women… Except maybe it will help to uncover the depth of damage being done to men and women by the misogynistic layer of our culture. And maybe if it can be seen it can be changed for all of our daughters - and sons.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Collaborating on Art Projects with Little Kids

Detail of Our Ode to Spring

Collaborating on a project isn't easy. Collaborating on an art project with a 4yr old... You might think that it is impossible, but it is not. Here are 8 pointers to help you along.

1) Plan Ahead With Your Team - (Yes, I just referred to you and your child(ren) as a team. If you are going to make something together that is what you need to be.) Come up with a basic idea of what you are making, the materials you will need, the steps involved, where you will work, when you will do it, etc. This will help to get everyone invested in the project and give you a chance to organize in advance.

2) Identify Steps and Tasks - There are some things that you youngest team mates can't do but there are a whole lot of things they can. Identifying those things in advance makes redirection easy without letting it turn into a power struggle. For example: I need to be the one to use the X-Acto knife to cut here because it is very sharp, but we also need some triangles. Can you cut them with your scissors?

3) Give Them the Right Tools - If you want  small flowers don't hand them a big paint brush. If you are hoping for a garden of pink and purple, pull out those colors and leave the yellow and orange crayons in the box.

4) Let Go -  Yes, I know you have a vision of how this project is going to turn out, but so does every other member of your team. Ask open ended questions. Share your ideas. Communicate. Compromise. Create. This goes for kids and adults!

5) Plan Breaks - Not all attentions spans are created equally. Thankfully paint and glue take time to dry, creating convenient times for a break. Stretch. Have a snack. Change the music (or the baby). Take a nap. You don't need to finish in just one sitting. Remember - everything takes longer with kids, even art.


6) Check In - Every once in a while step back and look at your project. Share a complement. Ask a question (I noticed you used a different color on the belly of the bird. Why did you choose red?).

7) Resist the Impulse to 'Fix It'- Yes, it is crooked. No, it doesn't look like the one you saw on Pinterest. It was made by Your Team. It isn't 'wrong' and it doesn't need to be 'fixed'!

8) Be Proud -  Put your work on display. Encourage your child to talk about the art and the process with you and when showing others. What did they contributed and what did other team members add? What was challenging? What was new or fun? What do you want to make next?

The Latest Neighborhood Beautification Project on Display

Letter To A Home Town - The Science of Thanksgiving

Twisted Paper Bag Thank You Tree

 

 

The Science of Thanksgiving

 

Ahhh Thanksgiving: that glorious celebration of hedonism in honor of our foremothers and forefathers. What a wonderful way to pay homage! 

That could be sarcasm, but for once it is not. (Though it is easy to poke fun at a holiday marked by excessive consumption followed by napping.) The way I see it the hedonic quality of the day has the potential to be a positive thing. I know it doesn’t sound that way, but hear me out. There is some science to what I am saying.

Hedonism is, by definition, the belief that pleasure and happiness are the most important goals in life. This doesn’t sound so bad by itself, but hedonism is often associated with self-centered excessive behaviors in the quest for happiness. That is the downfall part. Happiness is a matter of perspective and some people are bound to overdo it.

In psychology there is a theory related to this called hedonic adaptation. In laymen’s terms it goes something like this. Everyone has a baseline of happiness. We hit that baseline by doing what we always do. If we experience significant positive or negative things it will impact our level of happiness, but only so long as those things do not become the norm. If they do become the norm (doing what we always do), we acclimate and that new normal becomes what is needed to achieve base happiness. It is a bit like jumping into a pool. Even if it seemed cold at first, you get used to the water.

This of course begs the question, if we always return to a stasis then how do we achieve greater happiness? One sure way is to actively plan out positive experiences that break normal patterns. This is where Thanksgiving fits in.

Not only is Thanksgiving an invitation to break from our normal routine, there is an increasing body of research pointing to gratitude as a vehicle for happiness. It is being found that people who consistently practice gratitude have lower blood pressure, higher immune systems, feel less isolated and experience more optimism, joy and happiness. That’s right – when on a hedonistic quest for pleasure and happiness it will serve your purpose to show appreciation for what you have and those who helped you out along the way!

I encourage everyone, when you get together with family and friends this week (and in your everyday), raise the bar. Make sure the people in your life that matter hear that from you. Tell a story of how someone right there at the table made a positive influence on you. Make a poster of things you are thankful for and invite everyone to add to it. Let grace last the whole meal instead of hold up dinner. Most of all, let your quest for happiness be laced with gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

               I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

W is for...

 

Watercolor Ws

 

 

We have started doing letter days a few times a week. We aren't doing them in any particular order. Instead I ask Figlet what letter she wants to do and we talk about possible things that we could do with that letter the night before. The short planning time can be a challenge, but it keeps the lesson grounded in real life examples in our everyday. Here are a few pics from our W day.

 

 

 

 

WAFFLES!!!

 

 

A White Whale on the Wall

 

Watering the plants

 

 

And herself

 

Washing toys in the Watertable

We also took a walk, danced to the Wiggle Song (Yo Gabba Gabba's Hold Still), waved to our neighbor, and read Where's Walrus by Stephan Savage.

It was a Wet, Warm & Wonderful  W day!

Letters to a Home Town - My Tweenager

My Tweenager on a Family Outing

 

My Daughter the Elder just had a birthday. She turned twelve. It was a pretty standard birthday, but to hear her tell it, it was a life changing event. On that day she was thrust, (or maybe she leapt) over the threshold of childhood. Now she is an almost-but-not-quite-may-as-well-be-close-enough-can’t-you-just-say-I-am-a teen. Apparently being called a tween when you are twelve just isn’t cool.

Not much that I do is cool these days. She lives in perpetual fear that I am going to embarrass her. When she invites friends over she makes me swear that I’ll behave. When the doorbell rings she gives me that look before she answers. She takes phone calls into another room just in case I decide to play the peanut gallery and make comments on the side. I am a high risk of anti-cool.

Now that she is twelve she is making it abundantly clear that if I ever want the chance to hang out with my big girl again, I had better shape up. Peer pressure is not limited to her fellow classmates; she is muscling me. No more fart jokes. Adults aren’t supposed to think those are funny. The wardrobe; it needs some serious adjustments. And just because you know what the Harlem Shake is DOES NOT mean you can demonstrate in public!

There are of course exceptions. It is permissible to hang out at home - when no one else is around, and she isn’t on the phone, or the computer, or tablet. We can go to the store together - as long as I am buying the items of her choosing. And we can do ‘other stuff’ as long as it is far, far, far, far from home so that the chance of bumping into any of her classmates is absolutely nil.

She is, of course, making her own way into awesomeness. At twelve, it is all about the look. She has dipped into the wardrobe that her big brother left behind; freaking the tomboy style. Her short tousled hair now has a red flare thanks to some temporary dye (next week it may be purple or green). Most importantly she now has the ultimate teen accessory; for her birthday she got a phone. (This gift would have elevated me into the ranks of coolness – If I have made it – but I didn’t. The phone came from her dad thus buying him forgiveness for being seen together in public any time soon).

To spite all of the fresh effort being dedicated to cultivating cool, that day when she turned twelve wasn’t the start of it. My Daughter the Elder has been that way for a while now. She likes sushi. She is a purple belt in mixed martial arts. She gives great hugs. And she has a wonderful sense of humor. (Don’t tell anyone but sometimes she even laughs at my fart jokes.)

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Watercolor Seek & Find

 

The Figlet has been enjoying hide-and-seek more than ever lately, so the last time we got out the water colors we made a little game of it.

 

I used a white crayon to draw hearts all around the paper before I gave it to her for painting. She was delighted every time she found one!

I Love You Little Bit Purple

 

 

"I love you little bit purple!" she tells me with her head tucked under my chin and arms wrapped as far around as she can reach.

 

I do not know how or why she decided that colors would be the means by which she measures love. It has been that way almost since she learned to recognize them by name. Who am I to argue? It is not as though I have a better system to offer. No matter how wide I open my arms, how high I reach, how many kisses I dispense, I could never accurately describe or measure my love for her. Color seems as good of a way as any to quantify. 

 

"I love you little bit orange." I tell her in return. "Yeah" she mumbles into my chest "and a whole lot green."

Kid Led Science with a Balloon

It started with a red balloon. We went out to dinner for Valentine's and the Figlet, being all cute and stuff, received it from the waiter (I think she won him over when he spotted her sampling the Rainbow Roll).

To spite her insistence on holding it herself and the tantrum that ensued when a loop was put in the string, the balloon made it safely home via the train. From a mom perspective that was surprising in itself, but what followed was the truly amazing part. It was nothing short of... Science!

First she tied the balloon string around her bag to see if it would fly. It didn't. Concluding that it must be too heavy, she dumped the contents onto the floor and tried again. Still too heavy. So she proceeded to test:

All the 'people' that were in her bag

(who might want to go to the moon)

 

A small wooden ornament

 

 

Which flew!

 

 

Her and I on a chair

(She said I was too heavy)

 

 

Her juice

 

 

When Daddy came home she demonstrated

by testing his juice

 

 

Her toothpaste

Then the wooden ornament again

 

 

Because it is so cool when it works!

Letter to a Home Town - The Seemingly Endless Journey of Potty Training

Our sleep anywhere girl...

 

It is never going to end! I am almost sure of it: Potty training is an everlasting process and I am destined to have a key role in keeping that little bottom clean for all of eternity. I know it isn’t true, but gads, it sure does feel that way. We have been actively potty training for more than half of the Figlet’s short life!

The duration is, in many ways, our own fault. The interest was there early, so we jumped at the opportunity. We set the potty up in back corner of the kitchen (the room central to it all). We had a few no pants days. Much to our surprise, it worked. It wasn’t 100% but she started using the potty pretty regularly. It was cause for celebration! We danced. We sang. We composed odes to the long forgotten diapers of yore. But then the weather got cold. Pants became more essential. She had trouble getting them down. More importantly, Figlet got bored and digressed. She wasn’t as ready as we’d hoped.

Sometimes I think that those guys that wear their pants down around their thighs are mocking me. They know how much bare bottom I have seen. Somehow they sense it. They know how happy I would be to never again have to deal with anyone rushing with pants round knees, leaving a dribble trail en route to the potty. They sense my fleeting hope of it ever ending and threaten to drop trou just to rub it in.

When warm weather arrived, her interest began to rekindle. The dusty potty in the kitchen corner saw increasingly regular use. The diaper count dwindled to half what it had once been, remaining essential only for overnights and outings. The potty traveled with us when we went away for a few days but was largely ignored. Using the potty was a home thing, which was progress. But then it wasn’t. It was just a stand still.  

When it comes to potty training, my present self laughs at the self of the recent past. You thought THAT was going to be the last case of diapers you’d buy?! You thought that pull ups would be anything more than poorly fitting diapers that are a pain to get on? You thought that calling training pants ‘fancy pants’ it would be incentive to keep them dry? You thought that you’d be done with this by now? Bwah, ha, ha! You have been through this before! You should have known that the Figlet would dash such dreams into a puddle on the floor - repeatedly!

I do know that potty training won’t last forever. The Figlet is making progress again. At home and on short outings ‘fancy pants’ are the rule. Accidents happen. When they do, I give our washing machine a little hug, the then remind myself the potty training golden rule: It will be over before her college applications are due.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Hummus made from Orange Lentils (That Insist on Being Called Red)

Why are they called Red Lentils? They are obviously Orange!
 

I got tahini in my Christmas stocking but seeing as Santa didn't bring any chick peas I hadn't made hummus yet. Today I came across a recipe for red lentil hummus on www.chow.com  and decided to try it out. Of course I can't leave any recipe as is, so below is my version. I must say, it came out quite good!

Hummus made from Orange Lentils (That Insist on Being Called Red)

1c Red Lentils
2c Water
2 Cloves Garlic
4T Tahini
4T Olive Oil
1/4c Lemon Juice
Dash Red Pepper Flakes
Salt & Pepper to taste
(I used sea salt and a fresh ground pepper mix)

Bring water and lentils to a boil then reduce to a simmer for about 20 minutes or until lentils can be easily mashed. Drain any excess water that remains (there won’t be much). Allow the lentils to cool a bit. Peal and crush garlic. Add them to lentils along with the tahini, olive oil and lemon juice. Stir vigorously with a fork or a wire whisk until the mixture is creamy. Add red pepper flakes, salt and pepper to taste. Can be served at room temperature or refrigerated for later use.



Hummus is UGLY But Soooo Yummy!

 

Blast Off Rockets - Toddler Art Project

Blast Off Rockets

Age: 18 Months - 5 Years or older (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 15 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Rockets, Space, Imaginative play

Books: On the Launch Pad: A Counting Book About Rockets by Nancy Atterbury, Not a Box by Antoinette Portis

Materials:

Card Stock Weight Paper
Colored Cellophane (We used red but any color will do)
Glue Sticks
Small pictures of faces (I found them in old magazines and used a 1” round punch to cut them out)
Adults get to use Scissors or Exacto Knife and a Ruler

Prep: Cut the four primary pieces of the rocket out of card stock. Our rockets consisted of a 3” x 5” rectangle for the body, the side ‘wings’ are a 3” x 4” rectangle cut into 2 triangles, and the point was half of a 4” square, but you can cut them to whatever scale you like. Cut 3-5 strips of colored cellophane to be the jet, and several faces (human or animal) to act as passengers.

Activity: Each child gets a set of pieces: 1 large rectangle, 1 large triangle, 2 smaller triangles and colored cellophane. Using a glue stick, assemble the rocket (adding the jet last so it doesn’t take off before they are ready). Choose some passengers and add them onto the body of the rocket. Time to Blast Off!

 

Notes/Tips: Putting the 'passengers' out on a large paper plate will help them from ending up everywhere. Choosing passengers after the rocket is assembled will also give the glue a few moments to dry before playing. If you don't have any colored cellophane, party streamers make a fine jet too. Don’t forget to talk about the shapes - its a preliminary math skill.

 

Working on cutting skills with the scraps.

Things That You Can Paint With - Creative Discovery Toddler Style

 

Painting has been the Figlet's art activity of choice lately.
To keep things interesting, she has been testing out the
marks she can make with all kinds of things....
 

Feathers

 

Sponge, Onion Bag, Marbles & Beads

 

Fingers & Fake Flowers

 

Spool, TP Tube, Brushes

 

Foam Sticker Stamps

 



Brushes & Burlap

 

There is such joy in discovery!

 

"When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. I told her I worked at the college - that my job was to teach people how to draw. She stared at me, incredulous, and said, "You mean they forget?" Howard Ikemoto

 

 

Why....

I don’t want to talk about it. Can’t I just write about Christmas? Or the end of the world? I had some really witty lines about being out of time and the holiday to-do lists that the zombies would find. I don’t want to talk about it, but I know that I have to… This week writing about anything other than the Sandy Hook Massacre would be disrespectful.

Right now everyone knows. On Friday December 14th, 2012 Adam Lanza shot and killed his mother then drove to an elementary school and took 26 more lives, most of them less than 8 years old. What everyone doesn’t know is why. The last life he took was his own. We can’t even ask him.

It is instinct in times like this to hold our children more tightly and remind them that they are loved. We stop, listen and interact with them on a level a bit deeper than we did the day before. We soften the message with hugs and kisses, but what we are telling them is that if they were gone tomorrow, the hole left behind would be unimaginable.

My children include a two year old deep in the stage of “Why?” She asks the question incessantly. “Why?” is daddy going to work. “Why?” can’t she have another cookie. “Why?” does she have to let the kitten go when she is holding her upside down by paw and tail. Each explanation is met with a follow up question; another round of “why?”

This week I have realized how much she reflects us in the face of tragedy.  “Why did he do it?” “Why didn’t someone see the signs?” “Why did he have access to so much weaponry?” “Why hasn’t he/we/them/us/they/you/she/me done something to prevent things like this?” Each attempt at an answer brings forward another round of “why?”

We try our best to answer the questions. “Why?” is so simple yet to answer it honestly the explanation must be complex; sometimes so complex we cannot fully comprehend. We grab for any explanation that makes sense. How do you comprehend the incomprehensible?

My daughter’s incessant questioning only ceases when she reaches an answer that suits her. Here too she a reflection of us. We settle on explanations that fit our world view: gun control, mental health care, school security, parenting, religion, video games, the list goes on. No matter how woefully incomplete our personal explanations may be, we hold tight to them. Action can only happen when we have an explanation and we need to take action now.

I hope that we can and will take meaningful action to prevent anything like this happening again, but in order to do so we must come to some agreement on the causes. I don’t know the answer, but I do know that if we stop the conversation with an authoritarian “Because” we will never get there. We must stop, listen and interact with each other on a level a bit deeper than we did the day before this tragedy. To do anything other would be disrespectful.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

Morning Glory Seeds

 

To spite poor conditions and neglect, from mid summer into fall our back fence is graced with pink, blue and purple morning glories. It is December now. The last blossoms are gone. Hanging from the vines are paper thin orbs backed by crisp stars; gracefully wrapped packages of potential waiting for spring. Sleeping beauties...

Everything is Dangerous - Letter to a Home Town

Way Back in the 70's

Everything is Dangerous These Days

“US Doctors Say Trampolines are a Danger toKids” Ummm ok. I have to wonder: Is there some new risk with trampolines that makes this newsworthy? Have strange trampolines started stalking our kids, following them home from school, offering them candy? Do doctors in Canada feel the same way? If more parents taught their kids the Five Little Monkeys song would fewer heads be bumped? Is anything considered safe these days?

Wow. I suddenly feel old. I am on the verge of one of those ‘Back in my day’ rants where the crazy old lady goes on about how when we were kids our parents let us roam like wild chickens, trusting that our pea sized brains would lead us back to roost at night. If I am not careful I will follow that up with a tale of how there was no crime and everyone was happy and fit and how it would still be that way if it wasn’t for the fact that Scooby Doo and those meddling kids quit going to church.

It is true that back my day I didn’t have a trampoline. I wasn’t allowed to jump on the beds either. (Strangely enough, I don’t remember being warned about hurting myself, just about breaking the bed.) When it came to finding means of potentially injury I was left to my own devices. I did things like tie a rope between two tree tops and try to scale across. I tested the thickness of ice by kicking through it. I was confident that bales of hay and stunt landing pads were interchangeable. I was a free range kid to the extreme and I survived for the most part unscathed. (As a parent I look back and wonder how).

Ideally our kids get the benefit of learning from our mistakes. In turn they get to make a whole new set of their own, thereby advancing into adulthood twice as mature and well adjusted as we did. (But wait… That would mean admitting to all that dumb stuff we did and they might tell our parents. Never mind.)

Left to their own device, the dumb stuff kids do has real world consequences, most of which are not a matter of life or death. Doing things and experiencing the consequences teaches how to navigate through fears and illustrates the difference between real and perceived risk. Fear has a lot of sway in the choices we make all through life, so this is a good skill to have.

Now my caveat: survival to spite youthful ignorance regarding the true danger of a given action is not good reason to let your own kids do the same dumb stuff. Kids, do not kick through ice to test its thickness. Trust me. Walking home in winter boots filled with water is no fun and I am glad I was close to the bank. Also, bales of hay are a close approximation to a stunt landing pad, but stuntmen have a lot of training (and an ambulance on site).

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…

A Joke Quackin' Duck - Toddler Art Project

A Joke Quackin' Duck

Age: 2 - 5 Years (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 10 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Ducks!

Books: Duck Sock Hop by Jane Kohuth, The Duckling Gets a Cookie?! By Mo Willems

Materials:

Dark Yellow or Orange Construction Paper
Yellow copy paper
Feathers
Star or Dot Or Heart or Other Shaped Stickers for Eyes
Glue sticks
Adult get to use Scissors

Prep: To make the duck bills, trace and cut a 6” circle from the construction paper then fold and cut into quarters. To prepare the puppets, fold a sheet of copy paper in apx. thirds long way (2-3/4 x 11). If the kids are very young you will also want to do the next steps: glue the edge closed, then fold the strip into quarters like an ‘M’ by folding in half, then folding the edges even with that fold.

Activity: Each child gets plain sheet of paper already folded into an ‘M’, a duck bill, a feather, a glue stick and some stickers. Glue the feather, then the bill onto the puppet (allowing the bill to overlap the feather will keep it from falling off easily in play). Add stickers for eyes, nostrils, beauty marks, etc. Test out your puppet then quack a joke!

Notes/Tips: The folded paper creates a pocket for fingers to go inside. Using the basic M fold, you can create other creatures by using different colored paper and features. This can become a big kid project by demonstrating the technique, then letting them design their own creatures.

 

PS. My top model decided she wanted to be on the other side of the camera for this project. The results were blurry but she got me!

Mosaic Indian Corn – Toddler Art Project

Mosaic Indian Corn

Age: 18 Months - 5 Years (younger ones need more supervision)

Time: 10 min (+ Prep)

Theme: Fall, Vegetables

Books: Lunch by Denise Fleming and Market Day by Lois Ehlert

Materials:
Brown or Green Tissue Paper
Assorted Colors of Construction Paper (This is a great way to use up scraps)
Yellow Construction Paper
Copy Paper
Glue sticks
Adults (& some kids) get to use Scissors

Prep: Cut out cob shapes out of yellow construction paper. I folded the sheet in quarters (3 x 9) and freehand cut them. If children are too young to use scissors at all then also prepare assorted color ‘kernels’ (pieces 1/2” or smaller). If the kids are old enough to use scissors, have them prepare kernels themselves.

Activity: Each child gets plain sheet of paper to use as a background, a cob, an assortment of ‘kernels’ and some tissue paper to rip up for the husk. Using the glue stick, glue the cob to the background, then the kernels to the cob. Rip 2 or more strips of tissue paper and glue along the sides of the corn.

Notes/Tips: I found it useful to describe the process as preparing corn in reverse – starting with the cob, adding the kernels and then the husk. This is a good activity to go along with cutting time for little ones who are just starting to use scissors because it makes use of the scraps they make.

Life as a 2 Year Old - Letter to a Home Town

This Letter was written about 6 months ago, but after a 40 minute stand-off regarding retrieval of some airborne art supplies earlier this week... It seems as timely as ever.

Life as a 2 Year Old

It is hard to believe, but the once Figlet about to turn two! Can it really be true?! It seems like just yesterday that I was thinking “What have I gotten myself into?!”  Now as soon as the house gets quiet I find myself wondering “What has she gotten herself into?!” Life before she came along was far from dull, but life with a 2 year old... I am being taken along on her ride through life in the impulse zone!  

To be 2 is to not be able to see even a few moments into the future. I am hungry and grumpy and you have served me food on the green plate. I wanted the blue plate and therefore this food must be emptied off the offending dinnerware. Where?! I don’t care! How about the floor! What do you mean there is no more? Can’t you see that I am hungry?

To be 2 is to always be moving on to the next best thing. Plink plunk on the piano keys. Belly flop on the beanbag chair. The baby doll needs shoes. Mom, help me put them on. I am going to chase the cat. Did you hear my 3 word sentence? I said “Cat knee ow!” Yes, I could use a mommy hug. Put me down now. I have to pee.

To be 2 is to have no modesty. Every day should be a no pants day! Why do you keep trying to put clothes on me?! My potty is in the kitchen, right where it should be. Every time I use it, you sing and dance for me! I follow you into the bathroom (when you will let me), and do a dance for you. Everyone should sing a happy song when they poo!

To be 2 is to discover what you want and how to say it. I like apples and oranges and I can ask for both by name. I like strawberries, but those I have to show you. I like cream of wheat. I call it ‘hot’ just like you do. When I say ‘chickies’ and bring you my shoes, you know that I want to go outside to play. When I say ‘Eee-eee ‘Orge’ I want to watch Curious Georges. I like him. He is a funny monkey like me. If you gave us typewriters we could write novels. Mine would be 5 words. His would be 3.

To be 2 is to take on life’s lessons – the ones that take a lifetime to learn. I am learning to share, learning to care, learning who I am and how to take care of me.  I am learning patience – with myself and others. I am learning that a smile keeps on going. I am learning that everyone is growing, or at least they could be, and they should be. I am also learning that if I ever want to find out what is in that drawer, I have to make just a little noise or you will wonder what I am getting into.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…