Chapter 3

Tomorrow Monkey and Turtle start kindergarten.  I have taken vacation from my full time in-house counsel job to stay home with them since last Wednesday.  And I have gone from being weepy-ish on Wednesday to looking at the clock at noon today and wondering whether I was going to make it until 7:30 AM Monday morning without strangling a member of my family. 

It was nice at first to revisit life as a stay at home mom.  On Thursday I squeezed the kids into their BOB stroller and walked them around the neighborhood for an hour, like I did when they were infants.  I really got a lot of personal benefit from that, re-living the experience of pushing my babies all over the neighborhood and thinking about the new phase of life we were about to begin.  Then when we were almost home Turtle start bitching up a storm about how I had ruined her whole day by making her go outside and get her back all sweaty.  That reminded me how I began planning to return to work shortly after the girls began to talk . . .

Monkey has been on a real tear of negative behavior, and the last two days have been doozies.  We know she is anxious about transitions in general, and for this one she has brought out the big guns.  Hitting, tantrums, arguing over the simplest statements.  I have relied on the training we received from the family therapist we went to when Monkey was 3.5.  Which means I’m letting the girl rage against the machine as much as she wants, and giving her love and kisses and hugs at every opportunity.  This worked a miracle when Monkey was 3.5.  It has kept me sane these past few days and I think it definitely helped that we're not trying to talk her into being happy about kindergarten.  She is mostly calling it “stupid” and “hateful” and saying that she hates kindergarten and blah blah blah.  I just listen and don’t argue back.  I think she is more annoyed by what a big deal everyone is making over it and how everyone is telling her how exciting it is and how she’s going to love it and so it has made her realize this is a Big Transition, and she doesn’t like those.  I have zero concern about her ability to be friendly and cooperative in the classroom.  If preschool is any guide, she’ll do fine in class, then she’ll come home and have 14 tantrums and then go back the next day the model student, and we’ll live through it just like we’ve lived through all her other difficult transitions.   

We did have one fabulous experience this week, and that was going to the Rockin' River water park in Round Rock.  It is a small water park with no water deeper than 3’ 6” and so it is perfect for the girls.  We had a great time, better than when I used to take them when they were younger.  The first time we went, when we tried to leave Monkey had a total meltdown and sat down in the middle of the park screaming while everyone stared at us.   This time it was such a low stress experience - they are tall enough and swim well enough that I don't have to hang on them every moment - that we stayed until they were worn out and we all left happy.

I feel like I’ve been doing laundry and dishes nonstop for 5 days.  I know there was a time, on this very blog, when I extolled the virtues of a mop for Christmas.  But that season has passed and now I will be glad to go back to work Tuesday and let the house go back to being a semi pig sty. 

I’ve been meaning to write this Chapter 3 post for ages.  I went back to work full time last September, as an attorney.  Twin Daddy works part-time now, so he can pick up the kids, make dinner, and generally be the primary care giver.  I know in the past I have discussed my poor cooking skills, and I honestly don’t think I have made a family dinner in over a year at this point.  Twin Daddy does the meal plan and grocery shopping and cooking, and he and I are both so much happier with this arrangement.  He gets to do what he likes, I don’t have to do what I don’t like, and we both end up with a much tastier dinner.  Win-win-win. 

The girls have adjusted really well to this new arrangement at this point.  It was a little rough last fall and I had a hard time the first time I had to take a business trip away from them - I ended up taking one trip a month between January and April of this year, and I was hating it by April.  I was actually happy that my week-long business trip to Europe got cancelled this summer.  Turns out that I will likely be going in January now, so I’ll be simultaneously missing my family and nearly freezing to death.  Sarcasm aside, the travel is actually a positive as far as my career is concerned – it means people value my presence and want me to participate in certain meetings, and I do certainly appreciate that and want to foster it.  I feel sooo lucky that I was able to find a job that I enjoy, where I know I’m making positive contributions regularly, and where I have pretty good opportunities for growth, all after being at home with the kids for several years and in a sluggishly recovering economy.  So don’t take my travel complaints too seriously, it’s all pretty good.  

In fact, as our family enters Chapter 3, I am a very content wife, mother and lawyer.  I still sometimes feel like I need to pinch myself, that it can’t be possible my life has turned out this well.  On one business trip when I was having a room service breakfast - something I consider the height of luxuriousness and one of my absolutely most favorite things to do on earth - I looked at myself in the mirror and was nearly overcome with joy.  Mind you, I was alone eating breakfast with my reflection as company.  But knowing I was about to go to a meeting at a job I enjoy, and that my supportive husband was taking excellent care of my children back home so that I could be there in that moment without having to worry about them, it was just so much I was overcome with gratitude. 

It was a really good breakfast, too.

Mother's Day Eve

It's Mother's Day Eve, and I'm writing down just a few of the hundreds of happenings that go on every week.  

The other day Turtle had a full-on, kick the stepstool, primal scream meltdown because . . . . (are you ready?) . . . she hates everything in her closet and had nothing to wear.  

I took the girls to Kindergarten Round Up this past week at their new elementary school.  They are officially registered and are very excited to be starting kindergarten in August.  

Turtle can read chapter books, the newspaper, every magazine, the name of the songs flashing on Twin Daddy's computer/radio/space age car, and pretty much everything she sets eyes on.  She also loves the Cindy Crawford "Rooms to Go" commercial that comes on during Wheel of Fortune, which we watch as a family most weeknights. It's a ridiculous commercial but my braniac fashionista loves it. 

Tonight we tried to institute Family Movie Night and picked "Toy Story" as our first movie.  28 minutes in, after several objections by them that it was "scary," Buzz Lightyear fell out the window and Turtle ran out of the room crying. Monkey screamed that the movie was going to give her nightmares. Turtle refused to come out of the room until "the TV is black," which means Off.  So, that's on hold for awhile and apparently they will not be watching Star Wars until they're 28 years old.  It's back to the Strawberry Shortcake Sweet Dreams movie and Lalaloopsy.  But guess what we switched the TV to when they calmed down the hysterics over the horrific "Toy Story"*?   Their new favorite show, "Nature," on PBS.  We watched alligators from Cuba pulling mammals off low tree branches for dinner, and they thought it was great.  Nature is a fantastic show and I'm glad they like it.  But we cannot figure out why Toy Story and Finding Nemo are "nightmare inducing" while true life Nature shows and Nazi movies** are just dandy. 

And, finally, I have no tantrums to report for Monkey.  She has matured so much over the past few months, it's really amazing.  She can cook herself scrambled eggs - all I have to do is get down the eggs from the fridge and turn on the fire.  She can do the rest - spray the pan, scramble the eggs, pour them in the pan, cook them.  She has a little trouble getting them on the plate but I'm glad to look up from my coffee and help out when she gets to that point.  She likes to help do the dishes and do yardwork.  Today we went to Mayfield Preserve for a volunteer project through Little Helping Hands, and she spread mulch and pulled weeds for an hour. 

When I was in high school, I used to tell my good friend's mom that I wasn't going to have kids because I didn't want babies.  Instead, I would say, "I'm going to adopt a couple of 5-year-olds when I'm in my 40s and don't have anything else to do."  This is almost verbatim, and I know because she reminded me of it not long ago!  I have to say, that while OF COURSE I would not trade my baby time, I was on to something with the "couple of 5 year olds."  I am at a point where if I could freeze time, I would, and I know for sure that I have not felt that way once since they were born.  We're at a good age, people, and I'm enjoying it.  

Happy Mother's Day! 

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*which, by the way, is rated by CommonSenseMedia.org as suitable for 4 year olds.  We check CommonSenseMedia.org for everything because we know how sensitive our kids are and it is a good source for specific details in a movie that will frighten a preschooler.  Very few movies AT ALL are rated suitable for 5 year olds, and this was one of the few so we went with it.  Epic Fail. 

**The Sound of Music 

Family Fun Adventure

It was 4:45 and we were nearly home.  We'd had a late lunch and a noisy afternoon downtown at Palmer Events Center, where we'd gone to the "Camp Fair" to gather information on the myriad summer day camp choices for the kids:  dance, science, performance, art, golf, nature, language immersion, just to name a few.

After the fair we'd walked to Sandy's and stuffed ourselves with frozen custard, then walked back to the car and - finally, it seemed - headed home.

We were nearly there when Twin Daddy said, "We should go to San Antonio right now."  I raised an eyebrow.  "Really," he said.  "It's been so long since we've been there."

I thought of the wet laundry waiting in the washer, the pile of mail on my desk, my overstuffed closet I'd promised myself I'd finally clean this weekend, the tired kids in the backseat.  "Ok," I said hesitantly.

"Girls, what do you think, do you want to go to San Antonio right now and stay in a hotel?"  he yelled to the backseat.

"Yeah!!"    

"Ok," I said again, still not sure how this was going to go down.

Twin Daddy laid down the plan, and the law.  "Here's how it will work.  EVERYBODY.  When we get home I'll set the timer for 15 minutes.  Everybody has to be ready when the timer goes off, or we don't go.  If anybody cries, 'uncle' and says they just can't make it, we won't go."

The girls and Twin Daddy seemed so excited that I finally gave in.  "Ok!" I said, meaning it this time.

And so the great Family Fun Adventure began.  Twin Daddy gave us girls a one minute head start and we all sprinted into the house to get ready.  By the time the 15 minute timer sounded, all 4 of us had packed an adequate overnight bag and Twin Daddy had booked us a last minute bargain at a 4 star hotel on the Riverwalk using Priceline.com.  We were off.

On the way, Twin Daddy made us all pinky swear that we would have a good time, no fighting, no whining, no arguing.  "Fun" was the number one rule for our Family Fun Adventure, no matter what happened.

The rule held, despite some disappointing traffic, overcrowding at Casa Rio that pushed us to a less-than-stellar restaurant, a horrible margarita for Twin Daddy that I sent back on his behalf, and a very late night for the girls.  It was fun, and there was no fighting, no whining, and no arguing.

This morning, after a fairly decent night's sleep, I ordered room service so I could get a good cup of coffee and the girls could stay happy.  After a trip to the Alamo that teetered on whiny due to complaints about thirst and hunger, we bought the commemorative $25 photo to memorialize our Family Fun Adventure, and stopped at El Mirador to stuff ourselves happy with Mexican food one last time.  The drive home was peaceful and quick, thanks to the "Nancy Clancy" audiobook on Twin Daddy's phone.

Family Fun Adventure #1: a rousing success.

Things that Happened Today

Things I heard Turtle say before noon:
"I'm not going to church with you, you bad woman!"
"Daddy, when can we start painting our nails?"
"Mommy, when can I dye my hair?"
"I want to go to a private school!"

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Twin Daddy asked the girls if they wanted to help him hang Christmas lights outside.  They both said, "Yes" and immediately began talking about changing into new outfits to help.  Monkey put on her current daily staple - an red satiny Annie dress costume, complete with wig and shiny black patent leather mary janes.  Turtle put an orange NASA astronaut jumper, with brown boots.  They are walking around like that in the front yard now, checking for burned out lights.

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A woman at church complimented me on how well-behaved the girls were during the service.  "Really?"  I said.

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I found out our 7-year-old neighbor got an iPad. Granted, it is a combined birthday and Hanukkah gift from parents and grandparents.  But still.  I may ask her mom to hide it from my kids when they are over so they don't get any ideas.  You've heard the things Turtle says.  

Turtle can read!

Despite my long months of neglecting this blog, I think of it often.  Tonight I had to post because I can officially say that Turtle knows how to read.  She and Monkey just turned 5 yesterday and I will admit that I expected them to be reading months ago.  They have been able to sound out words beautifully for awhile but the smooth reading wasn't there.  Turns out we didn't have the right books!  We bought the girls Series 2 of the "Bob" books for their birthday http://www.bobbooks.com/bob_books_set_2.php and Turtle opened them up today and read three books in a row, out loud, smoothly and with almost no assistance.  Turtle also draws better than I do, but that's another topic.

Monkey is not quite there on reading and I expect it will take her a couple more months.  She can focus on following directions for building Legos for a lot longer than Turtle, so I know she has different strengths.  But still.  Despite my mostly successful attempts to keep my Type A personality under wraps when it comes to mothering, I know I'm about to go Tiger Mom all over both of them on reading now that the first big threshold has been crossed. I've already read several "Ramona" chapter books out loud to them, and we are now reading both "The Borrowers" and "Charlotte's Web."  If they aren't both reading at a second grade level by the time they start kindergarten next year, I will consider myself a total failure.  (and I'm only kind of kidding).

The Laundry Fairy

Yesterday evening I had two big piles of unfolded laundry on our dining room table, one in the dryer, and one in the washer.  I sighed and said, "I wish the laundry fairy would come and fold all these clothes for me."  Then I sat down on the couch and put my feet up, planning to resume the laundry after I rested a bit.

A few minutes later Monkey walked into the living room wearing her big pink wings and smiling.  "What are you playing honey?"  I asked.  She said, "I'm the laundry fairy and I'm here to help you!" That was so cute I forced myself off the couch and back to the laundry.  Monkey is a pretty excellent helper in general, and she really was a little laundry fairy last night.  She kept getting distracted by her arguments with the "invisible baby tooth fairy" who kept trying to get her to leave and go collect teeth in the neighborhood, but she sternly told the invisible baby tooth fairy, "No, I can't go right now" repeatedly, and stuck to her job.

Now that the laundry has been washed and put away, I'm hoping Turtle will stop complaining, as she did all last week, that "Nothing in my closet is pretty," and "my clothes are all ugly" and "I look stupid" and all the other four-year-old versions of "I have nothing to wear."  It was really aggravating and of course, worrisome, but I think the problem was that her three favorite dresses had been dirty for awhile and she couldn't stand the choices presented by the other dozen+ beautiful dresses in her closet, most of which she has picked herself.

What I'll be when I'm a grown-up

This is Monkey's list of what she'll do when she's a grown-up, she just gave it to me in a sing-songy voice:

"I'm going to go to space, and build things, and fix things.  And do ballet.  And art.  And be an old woman."

This came after Turtle's announcement (she was mad at me) that when she was a teenager she was going to go a whole week without talking to me.

I'm pretty sure both girls' statements are true.

Discussions

In the past week, Monkey has all of a sudden started saying, "Oh. My. Gawwd" like a 1980s teenager, and pretty much using it in the proper context.  I asked her today, "Monkey, where did you hear someone say that?"  "From you," she replied.  You know, like in those commercials about smoking pot? "I learned it from YOU."  Anyway, I thought that was the case but wanted to make sure I was right to be feeling so mortified by my vocabulary.  

This morning I was taking the girls to a bouncy house (!) playdate, and we'd been in the car about 2 minutes when Turtle popped out with, "Mommy, does God live in space?"  So after I struggled through that answer, she immediately asked, "Mommy, which one is your sweet tooth?"  I burst out laughing, but was able to give a shorter and less tortured answer to that.

 

Conversation and Pink baseball gloves

This morning on the way to school one of the girls asked, "Mommy, when will I be 4 and 3/4?"  This turned into a conversation about birthday parties.  I asked, "Where do you want to have your birthday party?"  They replied, in unison, "Pump It Up!"  I have been to approximately ten thousand birthday parties at Pump It Up and was chagrined to hear this.  They then suggested another bouncy house place where I've only been to five thousand birthday parties.  I suggested a few non-bouncy places that they seemed to think were ok, so we kind of tabled the location discussion as this conversation ensued in the back seat:

Turtle: "Sissy, want to have a Cinderella birthday party?"  [cut to Mom in front seat, closing her eyes and shuddering.]  Turtle continues: "I mean, a Princess party?"

Monkey: "Sissy, I don't want to have anything nice.  I want to have a Star Wars party."  [Mom grins.]

Turtle: "Well, how about a Wizard of Oz Party?"

Monkey: "Maybe."

Turtle: "I could have a Dorothy cake and you could have a tin man or scarecrow or whatever."

Monkey:  "I want a Yoda cake.  And a Pin the something on the something Game.  Pin the sword on Luke."

Turtle:  "Pin the light saber on Yoda!"

Monkey: "Yeah!"

We were at school at that point, so the discussion is on hold.  We always get two cakes, but I think we may have two themes this year, too . . . .

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On a side note, I'd like to report a follow up to my long ago post "No More Pink Baseball Gloves." (May 2009).   I drew a line in the sand in that post, and while I have had to give up many, many of my preconceived notions about what I would and would not do as a mother to girls, I am happy to report that this one has stuck.  Twin Daddy took the girls to get baseball gloves at Academy a couple weeks ago, but before they left, he gave them (Turtle) a talk about what color glove was acceptable (brown or black) and what was not (pink, blue, purple), no matter what was at the store or what our neighbor had.  They returned from Academy with respectable baseball gloves and happily played catch in the backyard.  Turtle may play catch in a pink dress with sparkly silver dress shoes, but at least she's got a decent glove (and a decent throwing arm to boot!).  

On Being 40

The kids are with their Mimi a few days this week.  Before they left I fantasized about all the sorting and general organizing I would do to get the house in shape and how I would exercise every day and do a food cleanse and generally be perfect.  Now that they are gone, I find myself puttering around and sleeping a lot, and I have done only about 1/10 of what I expected to do.  Which may be ok, since my to-do list had over 20 items on it, plus I'm working some during the day and having a couple of movie nights with Twin Daddy.

Nonetheless, I didn't expect that I would do so little.  It has reminded me of what life was like before the kids.  I didn't exercise every day, and I was a slob, and I never got everything on my to-do list done.  Setting a good example for the kids is what got me back into physical shape and doing triathlons.  Raising my children in a sanitary, orderly environment got me to clean up and wipe countertops now and then.   And the kids' needs forced to me keep my personal to-do list trim and manageable.  This time at home without them has helped me to see that the kids aren't keeping me from doing anything I want to do with my life.  They are just keeping me busy and loving me with their whole hearts when I would otherwise be sleeping or dawdling or berating myself for being unproductive, so that's pretty good.

So that brings me to my main subject, turning 40 a few weeks ago.  I was pretty happy to welcome my 40s decade.  I see it as a chance to start fresh, wipe away the mistakes and insecurities and anxieties of my 30s, and generally settle into my authority as a mature, wise woman.  And why do I think I'm so wise and mature?  Well, let me tell you what I've learned so far about life.

First, I've learned that I don't really know all that much. This is a very different attitude than I had when I turned 30, pre-kids.  Now I realize that not only do I not know everything, I barely even know my own stuff.  Everything I think or think I know today may change by next year.  I know that most everyone is doing the best they can to manage the harsh reality of life, and I'm a lot less judgmental about pretty much everything.  At the same time, I know I may be embarrassed next year that I said I was wise and mature today, and may get humbled by even more examples of how judgmental I still am.  That brings me to my next point:

Who cares?  My petty thoughts don't matter that much.  I don't mean this in a sad and depressing way.  I just mean, who cares if I turn out to be wrong about something?  So what if I'm a little fat?  Who cares if I forgot to send a thank you note?  Who cares if my husband/friend/family member is in the wrong and I am right?  I'm a tiny speck on a tiny speck in the universe, and every person on this tiny speck has a thousand petty grievances about their lives.  I almost get bored of being annoyed by human stuff, because it's just so lame and pointless.  We all are really going to die some day, for real, so I don't have time to waste in negative emotions.  This is also VERY different from when I was 30, when I liked to spend large amounts of time dwelling on all the wrongs that were being done to me and that had been done to me since time began.

So there you have it.  My wisdom is, I don't know anything, I'll probably embarrass myself a hundred more times but who cares, and I spend as little time as possible dwelling in negativity.  These thoughts are very freeing and give me a lot of peace as I look forward to what the next decade has in store for me.

A Clean Room

I've stumbled upon a wonderful way to get my kids to clean a room, and want to share it with you.

1. Get your kids obsessively hooked on the musical Annie.
2. Suggest the game, "Hard Knock Life," where you will be Ms. Hannigan and they "get" to be the orphans.
3. Yell out all the things you want put away: "I better see all these books on the floor stacked in those baskets and every toy put away in the playroom.  And I mean, start NOW."
5. Play the song, "Hard Knock Life" on your iPod player and stomp out of the room.
6. Enjoy a cup of coffee in the other room while your kids happily clean up.
7. Sweetly suggest that they can "play again" when the song runs out.
8. Repeat.

Sweetness

On my birthday last week, Turtle leaned in close to my face and murmured, "Happy Birthday Mommy, and all your wishes come true."

This morning she said, "I love you so much that when I see your face my heart fills with joy."

Now that is some special love.

Breakfast

The other morning at breakfast, Turtle was poking around at her boiled egg when she asked, "Mommy, WHY do we have to eat baby chicks?"

Then before bed that night, Monkey said, "I want to be a vegetarian Mommy."

I'm handling this by ignoring it and hoping it goes away.

Just now, Monkey was working on getting her breakfast and I asked her why she did something.  She said, "cause I want to.  duuuh"   Sounded exactly like a 14 year old.

Monkey

This morning Monkey was defiant as usual, and came up with this: "NO EVERYTHING!"   That seems to be her M.O., for sure.

On a more agreeable note, she told me at breakfast that when she grew up she wanted to be the most famous chef in the whole world.  That was after she cracked all the eggs for the scrambled eggs, got the scrambling process started, poured the eggs into the pan, and did the initial cooking.  She loves to cook with adults and watching Julia Child and Alton Brown cooking shows is one of her favorite things.  In the past she's also said she wants to be a ballerina and an illustrator, but she actually shows more interest in cooking than in either of those activities.

This evening at bedtime she asked me a difficult question.  "Mommy, why do we celebrate Memorial Day?"  I explained about soldiers and remembering them and etc.  Then she said, "But we don't like to fight right?  So why do we celebrate fighting?"  I was stumped.  I blamed it all on other countries who started fights and forced us to fight even though we didn't really want to, but I look forward to having a more advanced political discussion with her about this when she's a little older.  I'm sure she'll take the opposing position to my political view on foreign policy and war, but as long as she can back up her position with more than "No Everything!" I'll be ok with a little disagreement.

Vegetarians

Yesterday, Turtle announced that she didn't want to eat "real animals" anymore, and that she wanted to be a vegutaran.  Twin Daddy told her we'd have to talk with the pediatrician about it, so in the meantime she should just eat the grilled salmon on her plate.  I know there are several vegutarans in the girls' classes at school, and the pediatrician told me a couple of years ago that there are billions of vegetarian kids in the world, and one egg a day is plenty of protein for the girls.  But, frankly, if I wanted to go through the trouble of planning vegetarian meals, I'd already be one.  So hopefully, this will go away until she's about 14 and can cook her own food.

Quote of the day

From Turtle, in the back seat in the car this morning: "Mommy, who will be the last person on Earth?"

My boots were laying on the floor of my room, where I'd left them after I took them off today. Monkey was standing on them.

Me: "Monkey, please don't step on my boots."

Monkey: "Ok. Please don't make your room so messy."

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Keyen was absent from school all last week so I never got to see him, and still haven't managed it this week. Apparently, though, he has been too busy this week to play with Turtle. She was a little annoyed about it yesterday but didn't even mention him today, so I guess the relationship has cooled.

Love

More from Turtle.

"Keyen is my honey"

"Keyen likes rock and roll, and rainbows."

Me: "Tomorrow is a school day."

Turtle: "Yay, I get to see Keyen!"

I am soooo checking this boy out tomorrow.

Snippets

Turtle: "What do clouds taste like?"

Monkey: "Mashed potatoes."

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Turtle: "I'm going to marry Keyen. We're going on our honeymoon in Canada for 30 days and Alaska for 38 days. We're going to get married where Aunt D. got married, but Keyen thought a bench or a rock might be a good place. He gave me a rock on the playground with a heart on it."

Monkey: "I'm going to be your maid of honor and my husband will be your ring bearer."

Turtle, hands over her face: "Oh, brother."

Note: While Turtle has promised to marry a couple of boys in her class, Monkey betrothed herself to Vishnu last fall and has steadfastly maintained that she is going to marry him and only him. I let his mother know. I started to say, "I hope you haven't made other 'arrangements'" but caught myself in time and said "plans" instead.

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Turtle: "Mommy, when will we go to Australia?"

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Monkey: "Mommy, can we go to the bank or someplace that has to do with money?"

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Twin Momma: "...Ok, well if neither one of you wants to go to church with me, then Daddy and I will go to church together and you guys can stay home together."

Turtle: "N000000000000! The law will get you!"

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Twin Momma: "Hey Turtle, you've never worn this outfit. Why don't you try it today?

Turtle: "I don't like that! It's a nightmare!"

Inventions

This morning Turtle asked me, "What is the sky made of?" Before I finished stumbling through my tortured explanation of atmospheric gases, she asked, "Who invented the sky?"

I groaned to myself - I hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet and I had been called on to literally explain the universe. But I decided to go for it: "Well, some people think God invented the sky and the earth and everything on it. And some people think the sky and the earth formed by themselves through, ummmm, natural processes."

I held my breath, hoping she would not ask me what I thought, because I really was not ready for that conversation as I am still working out the details myself. But, thankfully, she asked, "What are processes?" I said, "Nature, I should have just said Nature, you know, how things grow and change over time?" She seemed satisfied with this. So the moral of the story is, if your kid asks you complicated questions that you're not ready to answer, fill your answer with big words to distract them from the main question!

Speaking of inventions, Monkey has developed some good ideas for inventions lately. A few weeks ago she told Twin Daddy that when she grew up she wanted to invent a car where, when you got in, someone popped out of the front seat and drove the car so that she could sit in the back with her babies. "Like a robot?" I asked. "No, a real person," she said. While she may have some details to work out, I still thought this was genius, and figured that she must wish we could sit in the back seat with her now. Twin Daddy had a different take, commenting to me that Monkey was truly her mother's daughter, always looking for a way to get someone else to do her chores. I think he may have a point, as I regularly fantasize about not only a full time housekeeper but also a driver.

She thought of another invention yesterday, a mask you wear so that you speak English into it but Spanish comes out the other side. She showed me with her hands how it would work. Again, genius. Or a way to get out of the hard work of having to actually learn Spanish. Either way, it works for me. I suspect, given all the translation devices in existence, this sort of thing may be in the works somewhere, but how can she know that? She's just brilliant is all I'm saying.

Another thing she did yesterday was build an x-ray machine. She got some first-hand experience with x-rays last week, after she swallowed a nickel. Yes, a nickel. The pediatrician has us go in for x-rays the next morning so we could make sure it was actually in her stomach and on its way out, which it was. I was instructed to look for the nickel every time she had a bowel movement, which was a lovely way to spend the weekend. Of course, no one was watching when she went at school, and I never found it. The doctor said it must have passed by now given her prolific production over the last several days, and that we could assume it was gone and not worry about it any more.

So anyway, back to Monkey's x-ray machine. She took a big box and put Turtle's baby doll inside it, then taped the box up and then taped paper over the box. I helped her find a toy that blinked to use as the camera, which she put on top of the papered-over box. She would come in and turn on the blinking light, then walk out of the room and peek around the corner. I would say, "beeeep, beeeep" and then she would come back in and turn it off. We did this for about half an hour. Finally, she unwrapped the box and took the baby out, and then proceeded to show me all the x-rays, which involved holding up a bunch of different pieces of paper and then holding a toy in front of the paper to show me what was in there. Apparently the baby had swallowed: yarn, a toy elephant, a toy cat, a lovey, and I don't remember what else but it was a lot. So then Monkey had to do surgery on the baby, both on her throat and on her belly, to get all these things out. She cut on the baby for some time using the cake cutter that came with her wooden birthday cake set, then covered the baby with silver stickers - these were the stitches.

Then, because the baby had been such a good patient, Monkey brought her a basket of "stickers" for her to pick something to take home. Turtle picked something for the baby, as she had been playing the patient mother/voice of the baby through all of this, allowing her doll to be closed up in a box for half an hour and then cut up for another half hour, while she occasionally made crying noises to indicate the baby was unhappy about something.

All in all, a good day's work for Dr. Monkey and Mommy Turtle.