Oh, Nora

Today at lunch Nora decided that every bite of carrots needed to be followed by chewing on the sleeve of her shirt.

Unrelated (except for happening today): she has mastered making the "duck lips" face and snorting at the same time.

In case you needed further proof that preschoolers are crazy

Addy: I need to go to the doctor. I don't feel good.

Mama: What doesn't feel good? Your head? Your tummy? Or something else.

Addy: It's my foot. My foot doesn't feel good.

Mama [puzzled, because as far as we can tell, she has no sensation in her feet]: What's wrong with your foot? Does it have a booboo or something else?

Addy: It has allergies. I need to go see the doctor so he can make the allergies in my foot better.

The real reason that twos are so terrible

I read somewhere that one theory for why 2-year olds go from being sweet little toddlers into tantrum-throwing little hellions is that there is a disconnect between their ability to form thoughts and their ability to communicate them to others.

It's a totally false theory.

My favorite 2-year old is scary articulate, and we are not even remotely exempt from the heinous existence that is The Terrible Twos. In addition to the relatively infrequent all-out screaming fits when she doesn't get her way, she gives us the following insights into the true root cause of the terrible twos:

"I'm not going to [whatever she's been asked to do] because my hair is gorgeous."

"I want to walk, and I want to use my tall braces to do it, but I'm not going to let you put them on me."

It's not that two year olds have rational thoughts that they have trouble articulating. They're just totally bat scat crazy and they have trouble articulating their insanity and those around them have no hope of comprehending their irrational logic. And that frustrates them.

I am, unfortunately, no closer to figuring out what to do about this disconnect between preschool reality and actual reality. But if I ever do, I'll have a best-selling book deal.

More gloves than you can shake a stick at

I usually have Addy wear gloves while she's using her wheelchair, just to keep the grime and nastiness to a minimum. So far, these are her favorites:


Pink, princess bike gloves. They're cute and they do the job, but they are a ROYAL pain to get on her wiggly fingers and she definitely isn't able to put them on herself. I searched for a while, looking for a better option, and found a pattern for fingerless quadriplegic wheelchair gloves (link). (No, Addy isn't a quadriplegic, but she does have the dexterity of a 2 year old, so these looked like a perfect option).

It took a couple of tries, but I managed to make them her size and possible for her to put on by herself (and, while I was at it, blinged out with Dora ribbon):


The fabric is white linen--I'm digging the linen because it wicks moisture away, though grey might have been a better choice for color. The palm has black leather to be extra cushy and grippy on her wheels. And I figured out how to have the Dora ribbon be both decorative and functional. Overall, I'm pretty proud of myself. I even made two of them. Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out how to make one for her left hand.

Addy's thoughts on kale

I'm trying to get Addy to eat more veggies, so at the suggestion of a friend, I made up some "hidden veggie" smoothies and froze them in ice cube trays so we can try them in small doses, heavily doctored with vanilla yogurt or applesauce as needed. We've tried 3 flavors so far: apple/carrot/beet, mandarin orange/steamed sweet potato/almond, and pear/grape/kale. I have sampled all 3 and all of them are genuinely tasty. Most surprising, even the apple/carrot/beet was yummy (when mixed with an equal portion of vanilla yogurt, you can't even pick out the dirt flavor of the beets).

Apparently there's no fooling Miss Addy. The pear/grape/kale, with its Incredible Hulk Green color, found its way onto her lunch plate this week.

Miss C: What do you think of your green sauce? Is it yummy?

A (in a sarcastically sweet tone, with an equally sweet smile): No!

Miss C: What does it taste like?

A (squinting her eyes and using her fingers to emphasize her point): Like a liiiitle bit of applesauce fell on the floor.

We've opted for hiding it in with her milk in an opaque sippy cup instead.

First day of school

Addy went to her first day of preschool today. Miss C asked her if they learned numbers, colors, and letters. "Yes, yes, yes" was the reply. Then Miss C asked her what else they learned. "Kids like sandcastles." She also keeps chanting "Holla Holla Holla! Toot! Toot!" No idea what that means.

Sprout count (5 June)

32 zinnias, 27 lettuce, 1 gillion carrots. We should probably thin the carrots soon.