sage advice

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The Kidling recently finished up her year at pre-school. Graduated, if you will. This, of course, means that we had to figure out what to do with her over the summer. Alas, the local before and after school program (hereinafter BASP) saved our ass(es).

BASP is unlike anything The Kidling has previously experienced. Every day they do some fun and exciting activity. Every. Single. Day. She started on Monday and has been having the time of her tiny life. The first three days of this week have brought us:

Monday: A minor league baseball game.
Tuesday: A picnic downtown and trip to the library with her very own library card.*
Wednesday: Hours and hours at a local swimming pool.

Needless to say,** The Kidling has been thrilled and exhausted. That didn’t stop me from taking her to gymnastics yesterday, but whatever. I am a terrible mother.

On the way to said gymnastics class, Alice and I chatted about all of the fun things she did at the pool. It was heartwarming to hear about her adventure with the big kids. Then…

Alice: When I was floating in the swimming pool, all of a sudden I had to pee.

The Mama: What did you do?

Alice: I peed in the water (giggles).

The Mama: (unsuccessfully attempts to hide the horror) Oh! Next time, see if you can make it to the toilet.

Alice: (ignores The Mama) After I was peeing in the water, a little while later, I saw someone scooping a little thing and then drink the water.

The Mama: (gasps) Oh no! That’s why you don’t want to pee in the water, or drink the water.

Alice: Yeah. Because you don’t know who peed and who drinked.

Wiser words were never spoken.

_________________________

** AKA, Kidling nirvana.
** Notice that I said it anyway? Sometimes I can’t help myself.

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the accidental confession

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The Dada recently discovered a small, but not insignificant, wad of gum on his black coat.

Bummer.

While we discussed strategies for removing the offending Bubble Yum, The Kidling played nearby. We finally decided that Goo Gone was the answer.

Yes, I know it was ridiculously obvious. I would spend an equivalent amount of time deciding to tape my ducts with, well, duct tape. We all have our weaknesses, Dear Readers.

Eventually The Kidling chimed in, asking why it is so hard to get gum out of things. I began to explain that it is very sticky… blahblahblah… Separating something sticky from something pliable and porous… blahblahblah…

I intended to go on with my explanation when Alice interrupted, saying “I won’t do that again.”

Busted.

food chain

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An ordinary day, ordinary conversation, when…

Alice: Is Margot an omnivore, or a herbivore?

The Mama: An omnivore. She eats plants, and her kibble is made out of fish.

Alice: (eyes lighting up) Oh, I see! That’s why she eats toilet paper! She’s an omnivore, and toilet paper is made from tree tops! She’s an omnivore in the food chain!

I can’t much argue with that, can I?

greetings from Nanaland (or Papaville, as the case may be)

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First of all, apologies. My lack of kidling-isms this week is due to my lack of The Kidling. She has spent the past few days in Nanaland, a place with sunshine, flowers, dessert, extra bedtime stories, field trips, constant attention, and puppies.

Fine, there’s really only one puppy. Whatever.

Alas, just when I was starting to seriously lament the lack of silliness in my life, I chatted with The Nana on the phone. She relayed a few stories that are classic Alice. The first was at dinner time. Alice was starving and cleared her plate of tilapia, fresh green beans, cottage cheese, and who knows what else. Apparently we don’t feed her enough at home. The Nana commented on her appetite, assuming that The Kidling must have just been delighted with the offerings. Nope.

Regarding those fresh green beans, Alice told The Nana, “I thought they were yucky, but sometimes I eat yucky things because I know they’re good for me.” 

That’s my girl.

Now, The Papa and The Nana have had The Kidling for several nights, so you can bet there is another story where that one came from. As you know, dear readers, The Kidling is working on becoming a reader herself. She sounds out everything (yes, everything) and loves to talk about letters and sounds. As they all discussed phonics, Alice told her grandparents, “I say ‘sink,’ but I don’t mean like in water. I mean I use my brain. … It’s hard to make that sound without my front tooth!”

Indeed it is. And guess what? We get my toothless, sinking, health food eater back tonight. Whew!

just sound it out

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We encourage The Kidling to ask good, thoughtful questions and we do our best to answer them with age-appropriate candor. As a pre-reader, we also encourage her to sound out words.

I somehow neglected to see the potential for those two things combined to bite us in our asses.

Rewind.

The Kidling and I were at the local school’s playground one evening in early spring. We ran into a delightful third grade neighbor boy–a bona fide big kid–who invited her to join in a game with a classmate and him. My heart swelled at her joy at being included as well as with my own admiration of those fantastic boys’ parents who taught them to be so gracious to a pre-schooler.

Once my heart settled (seriously, Christine. Get it under control), I started chatting with the other parents. They were all lovely and amazing and I want to be their best friends forever. Like all playground conversations, the topic eventually turned to the question of how to talk to children about the more delicate parts of human reproduction.

What? That isn’t what your playground small talk typically covers?

Huh.

As I was saying… one of the older, wiser moms suggested a great book, “It’s So Amazing.” The authors cover all aspects of human reproduction in a frank, non-threatening way. I knew I would forget if I didn’t act soon, so I picked it up the next time we were at the library. Even though we have covered a fair amount of the subject matter here at The House, The Kidling was fascinated by the book. She asked for a different chapter every night until the book was due. And yes, we did skip come chapters. She is only five.

Fast forward.

We were on our way to one of Our Town’s far-too-many-per-capita frozen yogurt shops Saturday. The Kidling, being a good kidling, began to sound out words to figure out how they are spelled, when suddenly we heard:

“Sss. Buh. Urr. Mmm.  Sss. Buh. Urr. Mmm.  Sss. Buh. Urr. Mmm. Sssssssss. Buh. Buh. Buh. Buh. Urrrrrr. Urrrrrr. Mmmmmmm. Sperm. Ssssspeeeeerrrrrrmmm. Sperm. Sss. Sperm. Sss. Sss. Buh. Buh. Buh. Sperm. Ssssssssperm. Sss. Buh. Buh. Buh. Buh. Buh. Urm…”*

Yes, this went on and on (and on). No, no amount of telling her that the second letter is “P” did any good. And yes, she had moved on to another word by the time we got to the yogurt store.

It’s so amazing.

_____________________

* I am religious about quote accuracy, so let me say that I cannot guarantee whether this is, in fact, the precise order in which The Kidling focused on the five sounds in the word “sperm.” But you get the idea.