About Miss Jillian

This started as a quick post about something Jillian did. It grew into a lengthy portrait of the child. I'm ok with that...you just need to know that it is long before you set in.



Oh Jillian. Sweet middle child of mine. You are both filling my life with oodles and oodles of bright sunshiny mirth and tearing chunks of said life off, stuffing them into your mouth, and swallowing them whole (then grinning at me in that way that keeps me from staying angry with you). I guess quality is better than quantity anyway, right?

In public, I spend a lot of my time chasing your adorable, impish self with admonishments to stay where I can see you and to cut it out with the silliness. I also spend a fair amount of time telling people that yes you are cute and yes those curls are natural and no I don't know where they came from (or if I'm feeling mischievous - that the mailman has curly hair). Other times I can be found muttering "Three...she's three...she's onnnnnnly three and will only be three for another 244 days and I can manage till then". It probably goes without saying but I don't take you out much. It's too hard.

At home you are sweet and tender and loving and hilarious most of the time. You hate it when we get upset with you and are quick to apologize for any indiscretions with tears shining in those big blue eyes. You are dramatic about EVERYTHING. The other day we did a workbook and the activity was to look at drawings of animals and say what sounds they make. Your sister, always the serious sort, would have said "Moo. Baa. Neigh. Quack. Cock-a-doodle-doo. Meow. Woof. There...all done...next page". Not you. You bleated merrily, lowed with intensity (starting with chin on chest, ending with face pointed at the ceiling), crowed till any napping neighbours were surely awake and meowed so convincingly that the cats came to see the new kitten in the family. You talk non-stop and at great volume and you are so distracted by your own running commentary on life that getting you ready to go anywhere is a monumental task. We are always late. For everything.

You are one of the silliest human beings I have ever met (with the exception of your Godmother). A lot of the time we really love how completely crazy silly you can be. You have great, creative ideas and when you wind yourself up, we get to experience some pretty wild sides of Jillian and we like it. You do, however, take it too far sometimes...like at mealtimes, and bedtime, and when your father and I are trying to have a conversation, or when I'm trying to tell you something important, or when we're trying to get out the door. I figure you will eventually learn that there is a time for silly and a time for preventing your mother's face from turning that horrendous shade of purple while her mouth pinches up into a little slit. Could this be my Christmas present? Discretion? Santa? Hear me!?!? Please?

They say that kids say the darnedest things and with you that is definitely true. You learned to talk early and you have a vocabulary that stuns me on a lot of days. Together with your flair for the dramatic and silly little brain, you can make coffee spew out of my nose on a nearly daily basis (even if you are being deadly serious - your "I mean business" look cracks me up). Examples? Sure:

1) It was a cold but clear day and we were heading out the door to swimming lessons. On the way, you grabbed a pair of sunglasses and proceeded to put them on. I asked you to take them off because swimming is a chaotic scene anyway and sunglasses would surely get lost. You gave me a bit of a scowl and said: "I want to keep them on. Besides, the sun is allergic to my eyes".

2) I was sitting in the family room knitting and you appeared before me with your head down. You looked up at me with tears in your eyes and said "I'm sooooo sorry Mommy. I broke your spinning wheel. I was pretending it was a bicycle and it just broke. I'm sooooooo sorry. I won't do it anymore". You didn't get in trouble even though you have been told a jillion times that the spinning wheel is not a toy, not the quarterdeck of a pirate ship or some carnival game. You got mega brownie points for being honest and apologizing. Kudos to you. When I visualize you pretending the spinning wheel is a bike, I can only imagine it as a recumbent bike. But you've never seen one of those. I am resisting the urge to have you show me how that spinning wheel becomes a bike.

3) This one kills me. And not in a ha-ha Alf kinda way. When you do something naughty and we ask you why you did it, you inevitably say "because I love it". You have applied this to everything from splashing tub water on the floor and finger painting with the peanut butter you have wrestled out of your sandwich (which you likely DO love) to peeing in your pants (which you HATE).

4) You have figured out how we will react to a lot of the things you say. You know what we will agree to or smile about and what will make us roll our eyes or sigh or say no about. There are no flies on you. You hate disapproval and will often make light of a situation in an attempt to cajole us out of our grumpy faces (this frustrates your father and I). Lately, you have decided that maybe you shouldn't be the one to say things that you know we won't like. I think Winnie the Pooh is to blame. That silly ol' bear gets a rumbly in his tumbly and says "my tumbly says I'm hungry" (or somesuch). So you have adopted his ways. It started with "my belly says I'm full" or "my belly says I'm hungry" and then progressed to "my belly doesn't like broccoli" and then to "my belly says it isn't tired" and "my belly told me to do it" and "my belly says I don't have to listen to you". Your belly needs to zip it.

You are such a great little kid and so cuddly. You still love your Dolla even though she is getting pretty tattered and you don't sleep well unless she is with you. You still suck your thumb a lot. Especially when watching television and in bed at night. We try saying "thumb is for bedtime only" but you don't listen. Honestly, some days, the only time you are quiet is when you are sucking your thumb so I have been known to let it slide. Your left thumb is the only one you suck (so you can maneuver with the right) and it looks very different from the right one. It is flatter and broader and the nail is weak and grows slowly.

You love listening to stories and you don't care who reads to you or what they read or even how well they read to you. The fact that Claire's school has a daily, at-home reading program has made you very, very happy. Despite your love of the written word, you have no urge to learn to read, or write, or draw. Your teacher claims you do know a fair amount about these things but you refuse to tell us any of it. Ever. When we ask what you did at school you always say "nothing". The teacher has to tell me anything I want to know. Except song lyrics. You have inherited my penchant for song lyrics and you like to sing so we know about all the songs you learn at school. Apparently you are the class clown. We are not surprised.

You love dresses and revoking your dress privileges is a harsh punishment indeed. You also love your ballet class and the last time you had a bathroom accident in the daytime, I made you sit out of a class. You haven't had an accident since. You think ballet is awesome and I'm looking forward to your end-of-the-year recital. I bet you steal the show

You are delightfully ticklish and you love to be tickled. You will beg for more tickles even when you are out of breath and red in the face from all the fun. You are a bit of a kamikaze and will jump/tumble/dive off of anything with assurances that you aren't going to be hurt. I'm considering keeping a defibrillator on site to restart my heart when you get up to these antics.

You hate the dark and it took us too long to figure out that part of the reason you had so many 'accidents' in the mornings was that the days got shorter and the mornings got darker and you were afraid to go into the dark bathroom in the morning. The other day you wouldn't even get Dolla out of the front room because it was sort of dingy in there.

You also hate lying flat in the bathtub to have your hair washed and my old "let's pretend you're a mermaid" trick isn't working anymore. You used to be sucked in by the mermaid act because you loved the little song I made up and would do actions. I write the lyrics out here for posterity (to the tune of "On Top of Old Smokey"):

There's a beautiful mermaid
Swimming in my tub.
She kicks her wee flippers
and she says "glub, glub, glub".

A more beautiful mermaid
I have never seen.
She's always so happy,
and she comes out so clean.

I'm no Poet Laureate but it used to work. Now say you prefer to shower but then you stand there with your hands over your grimacing face while the water pounds down on you. I'm going to let you figure this one out on your own.

You love Claire to pieces even if you two are nothing alike and she is usually pretty bossy with you. You are a night hawk and Claire is an early-to-bed sort of girl so there have been a few issues since you started sharing a room. However, one morning last week, Claire got up before you did and came downstairs and when you woke up and couldn't find her you were frantic. You burst into our room in hysterics because Claire was gone.

You love Daniel to pieces too, even if he is the 'baby' now and took a good bit of attention from you. You just don't seem capable of any other emotion when it comes to him. You smother him with hugs and kisses. I have honestly been concerned for his safety, such is the intensity of your adoration. He seems to like the affection though. He grins and giggles at you all the time.

You've been a handful lately and writing about you like this helps me to appreciate you a little more. I'm glad I spent a goodly portion of my day doing this. Ah Jillabeena, whatever would we do without you? You are the zippity in our do dah...that's for sure.

Claire Sits

Today was one of those days when Jillian was in school and Claire wasn't. I both look forward to and dread these days. I look forward to them because I enjoy what is essentially one-on-one time with Claire (Daniel is a good little dude who just grins at us all day). I always end these days with a little more insight about her personality and a greater appreciation for the person she is. She's old enough to do things with and have reasonable talks to and Jillian isn't quite at that level. So, we often have a good time when little sister is being educated (or being the class clown).

However, I have found that without Jillian around, I become Claire's sole focus. She, normally so independent, needs help with everything when Jillian is not here. She wants me to tell her what to draw, what to play, how to play, what to eat, what to wear, what to watch on TV (and can I do it all toooo) etcetera, etcereroo. She is always inquisitive but she has more questions and the answers need repeating when Jillian is away. She nags me mercilessly from the time Jillian goes to school till we pick her up. Basically, I think she misses Jillian's company and in order to get the stimulation she normally gets from her sister, she paws at me for attention. On many levels, I don't mind. These days aren't all that frequent so I can usually bear the pestering. I do admit that usually, by midday, she has me run down.

This morning, I could feel myself losing grip rather early in the day. I decided that it would be better for us to be out of the house doing things than in the house with me getting irritated. So, to that end, we set up a visit to the yarn store. While I spent some time catching up with Carolyn and Anne, Claire did this:


She found the one story book in the shop, set herself up on the rocking chair (she ADORES rocking chairs), covered up in a throw and had a good little story time by herself. Looks cozy, eh? Were it me, I think I'd have made a nest of Cascade 220 to lie in but that might have angered Carolyn and I'd never leave the shop so I'll restrain myself.

After that, we headed to Indigo. Claire went to a birthday party a couple of weeks ago and instead of a loot bag was given a $10 gift card to the bookstore. I think that's a genius idea. No junky stuff coming home and we get to go on a nice outing to the big bookstore and pick something out. Claire browsed around for a while and eventually picked out two books for herself. On the way out of the children's department, she spotted a bin of "wands" just like the one her teacher uses at school for a pointer (it's clear acrylic with pink glitter and sequin hearts and stars and stuff inside,snow globe style). She quickly put one book back and got a pointer instead and set herself up like so:


Another book, another chair, another good time. When I suggested I wanted to go to another section she waved me off with her wand with a "go ahead". Not likely. Instead, I plunked down in the other bean bag chair and watched her read for a bit (I thought I was going to have to stay forever - bean bags chairs are killer to get out of).

The kid can find a good reading spot wherever she goes. It was a good day.

It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas...

...at least it is on my knitting table.

This year, I decided it was time to knit stockings for the family. I resisted doing it before as I remember my brothers having hand knit stockings that dragged allllll the way to the floor the second Santa dropped an apple into the toe. As cute as those stockings were at first blush, they weren't so pretty all stretched out like that and good ol' Santa had to invest a lot more into filling those things too!

I tried making stockings for the girls out of felt one year but they weren't very sturdy and had absolutely no give in them. After that I bought stockings for them but I didn't like those much either. So, this year, Daniel is here and we feel like we are done adding little people to the family. I thought that made it a good time to make some good-looking stockings for the kids to have for as long as they last (I'll make one for DH and I if I get time). I decided to try stranded knitting, thinking that that sort of fabric might stretch less than regular knitting.

This is Daniel's stocking, hot off the needles (unblocked):






I made it from 5 shades of Cascade 220 wool and the pattern is in my head. Carolyn from the yarn store is already making rumblings about how I should write up the pattern and I might do that once I get another one done and make sure I know what I'm doing.

Status Quo

Things have been good Chez Froggie. The girls are settling back to school and I'm getting used to being taxi mom again. We seem to fill every moment of every day with all sorts of things from the mundane to the very exciting.

Blogging seems to be pretty far down my list of things to do lately. I seem to be too busy doing things to spend time writing about things. I wish it weren't so. I know that someday the kids will look back on my musings here for glimpses of their childhoods and when I go on bloggy hiatus, whole chunks of their lives go missing.

Last week, Daniel turned six months old (whoosh - that time raced by) and we had an impromptu photo shoot. Here are the lovelies in all their glory:

Claire:

Four going on forty. She has matured so much in the last few months. She is turning into such a lovely human being who is helpful and smart and creative and just plain pleasant to be around. Don't get me wrong, she has moments where she can pull out the stubborn and whiny act till my head feels like it is going to explode but by and large, those incidents are lessening in frequency and are easier to talk her down from. She loves to read and can read anything as long as the sentences are not too complex. She likes looking things up in the children's dictionary and likes any book about animals or nature. She adores arts and crafts and can draw lovely things when she feels like it. She loves school for the academics but hasn't got much time for the other kids (they "bother" her). I hope she doesn't shoot venomous glances across the play-doh table or anything.

Jillian:

Silly Jilly. The kid is three. Have I ever said how I feel about three? Me and three are not friends. Three takes years off my life. When Claire was three she was stubborn and moody and just plain infuriating. I wondered if she was ever going to snap out of it. Jillian at three looks a lot different but it is no less frustrating (if it were the same, I would feel like I had a clue how to manage). She can go from absolutely adorable so you want to scoop her up and kiss her all over to so nutty you think you could make a MINT by selling her to the monkey keeper at the traveling circus. She is an emotional little creature and most of her moods come with capital letters and exclamation points. Claire can be happy but Jillian is HAPPY!!!! (complete with squealing and jumping). She also spends a goodly portion of her day looking for things that are right under her feet. One day last week she stepped over her grey pants five times while whining to me that she couldn't find her grey pants. She runs off in stores and at the mall and does things like play "jungle" in clothing racks or will hold the hand of a mannequin and declare that it is her "Mommy". This makes taking her into public places really hard. But...when she's in a good mood and behaving herself - there isn't a sweeter, cuter, more considerate, entertaining kid on Earth. When she gets past three, she's going to rock my world daily.

Daniel (six letters in his name, six months...that's how this photo shoot started):

Lucky boy. He has a Mommy, Daddy and two big sisters who think he is awesome. He is lavished with hugs and kisses and told how handsome and good he is from daylight till dark. This may all go straight to his head and make him an insufferable three year old but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, we're all loving every second of this smiley little guy's life. He is so quiet and content. He is happy to stand in his exersaucer or sit in his pillow or on a lap and watch things verrrrrry closely. He's not interested in crawling or moving around and that's fine by me (Claire was a very similar baby that way). He loves bathtime and would win a gold medal if Jolly Jumping were an Olympic event. He hates bedtime and naptime and any other time that requires him to halt his reconnisance on the household. He started on solid food and has very definite, and odd, tastes. HATES carrots and baby cereal. LOVES prunes and squash. Pears and applesauce and sweet potatoes are ok. I don't remember the girls having tastes like this. Jillian ate anything and everything and Claire, like me, ate well when really hungry and clamped her mouth shut otherwise. He loves pulling my hair (ow) and thinks that giving "kisses" involves gathering both my cheeks into his chubby fists, squeezing as hard as he can (OW!) and putting his open mouth over my lips and waiting for me to make kissy noises into his open mouth and then giggling at the echo. Sometimes, for my trouble, he'll drool into my mouth or put his tongue in there. The whole act is both repulsive and adorable.

The whole gang:

I'm a lucky woman to have these three. Stubborn, silly or sleepless is just part of the package and I'll happily take the bad with the good anytime.