Star Wars ABC

Turtle and Monkey received Star Wars ABC, a large board book featuring fantastic photos from Anakin to Zam, from Uncle C. in the mail last week. It's the new favorite, of course. The girls were familiar with R2D2, C3PO, and Yoda because Santa brought those action figures to stockings last Christmas, plus they knew Luke and Leia because I have the piano sheet music to Star Wars and there's a movie photo on the cover. But now it's a whole new world. We have no intention of showing the girls any of the movies for many more years, but I have to think they will have complete mastery of the characters by the time the movies are presented. Here's a sampling of recent conversations.

Turtle, yesterday: "I want to be Anakin for Halloween." Not sure how long this will last since (a) she thinks Anakin is a girl, and (b) prior to yesterday she said repeatedly that she was going to be the tooth fairy for Halloween.

Monkey, at Michael's today: "Let's buy a Storm Trooper." Don't ask me how she popped out with that one in the middle of a craft aisle.

This evening, getting ready for bed:

Turtle, pointing at the photo of Princess Leia: "Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope!"

Monkey, to me: "I'm Princess Leia, and you're Queen Amidala." Twin Daddy accidentally let the cat out of the bag that Queen Amidala is Leia's mommy, and we were hoping they would forget, but they seem quite taken with the fact that the picture that "looks like a clown" is Leia's mom.

Monkey, to me: "Who is Princess Leia's daddy?"

Me: "I don't know. . . . it's a mystery. "

We will NOT spill the beans on that one, and please, please, no one else answer that question. We aren't sure the order in which we'll be showing the movies, but in case we start with IV, we have to keep that a mystery.

Now, I'm sure there are some readers who have no interest in Star Wars and are now bewildered/appalled/think this post is totally lame. But just know that this set of movies is VERY IMPORTANT around here and and any dissing of said movies in front of our children will not be looked upon kindly. Twin Daddy sat with his roommate (who is much more fanatical, and who dressed as Hans Solo for the occasion) in front of a theater for about a day back in 1997 in order to be the first people in the door at the first Austin showing of the Star Wars re-release. I brought them a hot drink in a thermos (and tried not to make fun of Han) so I could also be favored with a perfect seat for the first show in Austin. I'm just saying. It's important.

Two Stories

First, a Monkey story. Last night, getting ready for bed, Monkey climbed on the outside rung of her crib, grabbed the top rail, and kind of arched her back. I told her not to do that and she asked, "Will it break, Momma?" I said, "No the crib won't break, but you might break something. Remember when Lucy (a doll in her favorite Little Bear book) fell out of the tree and broke her arm? That can happen to you, too, but I can't use tape to fix it like Little Bear. I'd have to take you to the hospital for a doctor to fix it."

She looked at me with big eyes and I saw my poor girl visibly shrink before me. She and Turtle started talking about all the ways they could break their arms, and I tried to backtrack. "Oh, you know, maybe you wouldn't break anything, maybe you'd just get an ouchie on your head and you'd cry and need ice, but even then you know, Mommy will always be here to take care of you." Blah Blah Blah. It was too late. I crushed Monkey's skiing/gymnastics/horseback riding career before she ever had a chance to dream about it. The last words she said as I tucked her in were "on ladders, in cribs, in trees, in LOTS of places."

Now, a Turtle story. Tonight we were pretty late getting the girls to bed because I took them out to a little potluck dinner going-away party for their Heartsong Music teacher, who is moving to go to graduate school. Once home, we rushed to hustle the girls into bed and I was trying to help Turtle brush her teeth. She wouldn't open her mouth, she sucked on the toothbrush, and was generally uncooperative, so I gave that up and moved on to trying to wash her hands. She wrestled with me over it and then she kind of screamed and flailed her hands under the faucet, splashing water all over the sink and mirror. I took a step back, put my hands on my hips without saying anything, and gave her a raised-eyebrows "I'm not happy about this" look in the mirror. She met my gaze in the mirror. Then she said, "This is not going well."

After Twin Daddy and I stopped laughing, we got them to bed without much trouble.