Helen v. Luna

My dad snapped this photo of Helen as she protested something egregious like, being told to follow me. Or being asked to walk a few feet without being carried. Or, maybe even finding out that we weren't going to do exactly what she wanted the way she wanted to do it. I just can't recall the crime right now, or perhaps I don't want to record it here in case Social Services ever starts an investigation.

When my dad snapped the photo, he thought he captured a unique moment in her life, rather than merely recording something I see daily. When Ed asked to see the photo, I quipped "I assure you, you have seen it a thousand times".

All I'll say now is "I told you she was stubborn!". The best part is, when Helen assumes this pose, she will occasionally give a sideways glance to make certain she still has an appropriate audience. Sometimes, she accompanies the arm fold with a little pivot on her heel so her back squares with my front - but that makes the audience peek a little more awkward.



For those who know Miss Lunalicious, you decide who you'd rather tango with!

Elaine

Eggheads

For a long time, we've known Connor was a bit of a dork. What, with his love of reading, the way he practically memorizes every road we go on, remembers stores he's only been into once, etc. We thought though, that Helen would be different. Not so. She sleeps with a bazillion things each night - and what do I find her clutching regularly when I tuck her in before I go to bed?

A book.

Tree House? Conquered!

Connor and Helen often play at the neighbor’s house – after all, it has a great swingset, cherry tomato plants that they’re allowed to pluck from freely, a hose that Helen uses to wash those tomatoes she plucks, and a tree house.

During the open house for our home—as we were deciding whether to purchase it or not— Connor ran over to the neighbor’s house, and promptly climbed up the ladder into the tree house. And then he asked if we could buy their house instead of the one we were looking at. We knew right away that the folks next door would be great neighbors because the mom came out to tell us how great the neighborhood was, and as I apologized for my then three-year-old’s trespassing, she said in her fabulous Wisconsin accident “Oh, no problem at all—he can come over anytime! I have three boys myself. Looking at houses must be awfully boring for him.” We chatted a bit more, and Ed and I went home and decided to buy the house.

When we moved in, our neighbor reiterated that the kids were welcome anytime, and I had to tell her “I’m from Kansas. When someone says we can come over, I take them at their word. If you’re just being polite, feel free to say that you’d prefer we knock on your door, or set any other rules. It would be completely fine with me.” But instead, she assured me that she was Midwestern too, and it really was no problem. Naturally, we extended backyard privileges to her boys as well. The boys love playing with Connor’s toys and on the basketball court in our backyard—and if we ever get the ground to harden up enough that the sand truck can dump its 3.5 tons of sand in our sandbox—I’m sure they’ll enjoy the sandbox as well.

And so it is that the five children run pretty freely between the two yards, and occasionally we knock on their door to make sure Helen is inside their house when we can’t find her outside, and we holler out our door when we see our neighbors looking around for there motley three when they’re playing inside our house. Connor seems to be the only one to remember to always tell me if he’s planning to go inside their house, and he rats out Helen fairly reliably as well.

A little over a week ago, I got home with the kids from the nature center and they wanted to run into the neighbor’s yard. I told them I’d be inside putting dinner together. Ed arrived a few minutes later, and the last I’d seen of Helen, her feet were planted firmly on the ground as she stared up the pretty big ladder leading to the tree house. I figured she was ready to go for it. By the time Ed got home, we looked out to see this:



See that little pink shirt and red pants? Helen is about two steps from the very top. I don’t know if Connor had to help her get inside, but by the time Ed got out there with the camera, Helen was triumphantly inside the tree house with Connor, having a grand time.



Elaine

Well Rested!

Did I hear someone mention that tomorrow is the last day of NaBloPoMo? Oh, right, that event where friends of mine (usually including me) post daily in November (and my hearty congrtulations to all of you who met the challenge). Did you think I forgot? Well, I didn’t forget last Saturday, but I was in Puerto Rico getting lost briefly in San Juan before getting turned around and arriving at my condo. this is the prize I 'won' at Connor’s school’s silent auction a little over a year ago. It sits directly on the beach – and pretty much across the street from the rain forest. I thought about posting, even tried, but do you know how awesome this condo is (besides the location, of course)? Super awesome. NO INTERNET. This is absolutely the first vacation I have taken in as long as I can remember where I answered NO work email, NO personal email, and did NO posting. I haven’t lived this long without a computer since college, and damn was it good. Of course, my companions noted that the world could have collapsed and we wouldn’t know it – because we didn’t even turn the television on, save for a quick glimpse of the weather (gorgeous – it didn’t even rain on us in the rain forest!). But what did I care? I was on the beach, loving life. World be damned! And that was it. On Sunday, I thought briefly about writing posts and uploading them when I got back, but I decided to revel in Connor half-running, half-skipping whenever he got near the sand. Monday, I was busy hiking in the rain forest and riding an electric boat through a forest of mangrove trees to see the bioluminescent bays, and I swear, I did not even think about blogging. And that was true every other day of vacation as well. Last night, I plowed through personal email and got most of the way through before deciding to do my part for the school newsletter. And today? Well, as usual for November, blogger is slow, so there are no photos, just a note to say that leaving the internet behind can be incredibly refreshing. And I’ll post the traditional Thanksgiving post and monthly letters in the upcoming days.

I'm hoping to get to some fun places in the next few days because Flat Stanley has come to visit my home, and I hope to show him around before sending him to someone else. Drop me a note or leave a comment if you want him to visit you. Absent another response, and Therese's agreement of course, I plan to send ol' Flat Stanley her way so that she can encourage him to do a little international traveling. Let me know if you don't want him, Therese.

Happy Birthday, Dick!

Just pretend they say "Grandpa" instead of "Mommy". They're not always easy to manipulate into performing exactly as directed.



Hope it was a good one! Elaine, Ed, Connor, and Helen

Bag Lady

Mud huts

I almost never write about my care-givers, but I'm breaking the rule today. When I got home from work, Connor was just waking up from his nap. Normally, Connor goes completely nuts to see me. Today? He excitedly told me that he and Tiny (our au pair) we're going outside to make a mud hut. How awesome is that? They made the mud and the first two rows of bricks for the hut. They collected pinecones for the hut earlier in the day, and Connor and I plan to acquire bamboo for the roof. It's going to be awesome.