Thoughts about my family- yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Thursday, November 17, 2011
The Bottom of the Box
Mihret, with one of her many boxes in the background
Last night I was trying to help Mihret find something in her room. I was digging through one of her precious cardboard boxes (yup, she's a box hoarder--I mean, collector--but that's another story). As I got near the bottom of the box, she stopped me and said, "Mama, promise you won't be mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad at you, Mihret?"
"Ummm....just promise you won't be mad?"
Now I'm starting to get worried. What would I find at the bottom of the box? Something broken? Something ooey, gooey? Something of mine that had been "repurposed"?
"Mihret, just tell me..."
"Ummm...well...umm...."
I smile, trying to be non-threatening... "Just tell me, honey. It will be okay." (I'm hoping...)
"Um..." she pulls back the last layer of stuff at the bottom of the box to reveal....two small potatoes. "I took the potatoes so I could make noses on some aliens."
Once I caught my breath, we did have a little discussion about working on potato aliens in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. After all, I wouldn't want potato aliens taking over my house, which with this girl, is a real possibility.
Last Saturday we took the girls to an "LA Pumpkin Patch" (i.e. an empty gravel lot transformed into a pumpkin selling station and bounce house area). Unfortunately, the pumpkin patch we visited was charging $10-17 for a normal-size carving pumpkin and $2 for 5-7 minutes in one bouncer. Ugh...good old capitalism... We offered the girls the choice between 5 minutes in one of the bouncers or a movie rental of their choice from Blockbuster. Zinash chose a movie; Mihret chose the crocodile bouncer/slide.
Brave Mihret entering the mouth of the crocodile bouncer/slide.
Zinash and Chuck waiting patiently for the little jumper.
Posing for a free picture with overpriced pumpkins.
We ended up at the grocery store choosing $3 pumpkins from a cardboard box. I always felt sorry for kids who had to get their pumpkins from a cardboard box at the grocery store rather than off the vine at the pumpkin patch, but honestly, the girls were thrilled with their grocery store pumpkins.
On Sunday we had a great time carving pumpkins (results seen here), and on Monday we went to a Harvest Festival at Mihret's preschool and then trick-or-treating at one of the residence halls at Azusa Pacific University.
The Jellyfish and the Princess
Mihret dressed up as a "Princess Rapunzel Unicorn Fairy who likes fashion" (I was soooo glad when Halloween actually came because her costume got more complicated by the day...)
Chuck dressed up as himself (aka "a Buckeye fan") and our friend Matt dressed up as Michigan's coach, Brady Hoke. Our families actually hung out and trick-or-treated together at APU that evening. It was a Halloween reconciliation miracle. :)
I dressed up as a mom from a decade ago - you know, the type that carries a film camera. I can't tell you how many times I looked at the back of the camera to check the picture only to find a black plastic camera back. Oh well... (On a happier camera note, my new digital camera arrived! Hooray!)
We all had a great time and the girls came home with enough candy to last us for a year. Actually, we'll probably still have some left next Halloween... On a completed unrelated note, guess what you'll get if you come trick-or-treating at our house next Halloween?
Zinash has wanted a bike pretty much since we brought her home from Ethiopia. Thanks to my sweet parents, we were able to give her a scooter, but a bike just wasn't in the budget. We said, "You can put it on your wish list for Christmas," so she did( along with a dollhouse and half the toy section at Target). She made it clear, though, that the bike was at the tip top of the list.
We spent Christmas in Illinois with Chuck's family and then spent some time after Christmas with my family in Nebraska so we didn't give the girls their "big gifts" from us until we got home on January 4th. Chuck created a little scavenger hunt for Zinash that led her to her helmet (which she already was using with her scooter) and a white envelope inside. She opened up the envelope and it had a picture of a bike. She looked at us kind of confused at first but once we explained that she could help pick out a bike for herself she screamed with joy and ran around the room saying, "This is the best Christmas EVER!" It took a few weeks for she and Chuck to find just the right bike but in the end she got her wish for a purple bike.
Of course, the next challenge was figuring out how to ride it. I'm so thankful that Chuck took the lead on that one because he did a fabulous job of teaching her.
The Purple Bike
One of the first things he said to her was, "You're going to fall today because everyone who is learning how to ride a bike falls, but it will be okay and you will be alright." She was not thrilled with that idea and almost tried to back out of the whole deal, but Chuck convinced her that it would be worth it. They started on the grass so that the falls would be cushioned. We saw one of her friends at the park and her friend said, "Don't you know it's easier to ride on the sidewalk?" True, but the grass is a much friendlier landing pad.
Phase One of Operation Bike Riding
After Zinash had developed some confidence and ability to balance, they moved over to the sidewalk. She did remarkably well for her first day of bike riding and only had one major spill where she couldn't figure out how to stop and crashed into a small tree and a bush. She only got a couple small scratches but it scared her and she wanted to stop after that. Chuck wisely told her that she needed to ride at least once more before we left the park. I'm so glad that he did because I'm not sure we would've gotten her back on the bike another day if she hadn't had a couple successful rides post-crash.
Phase Two of Operation Bike Riding
As I watched the second video later I realized that Mihret said to me, "My throat feels like it's going to throw up." My response? "Oh dear....Look at her go!" Think I was distracted? Oops...probably not my "Mom of the Year" moment. In the end, though, Mihret was fine (in spite of my response) and Zinash learned to ride a bike thanks to great effort on her part and wise instruction from her Dad.
Today Mihret wanted to play "art school" in which she was the art teacher (appropriately named "Art Teacher Mihret") and I was the student. She divided the white board on our easel into two parts and showed me what I was to draw by drawing on her half of the board. The results are seen on the video (although unfortunately I couldn't videotape the actual lesson since I was the student). She explains in the video about the pictures and adds some stories as she goes along in typical Mihret style.
Entertaining little moments like these are among my favorite parts of parenting. It's hard to believe that the delightful little girl in the video was throwing a fit about 45 minutes earlier because I wouldn't take her to the park that instant. Such is life with a three year old!
Today while we were watching my beloved Cornhuskers on TV, the camera panned over to one of the mascots, Lil' Red. Mihret gave me a concerned look and said, "I have no idea what IS that!"
Lil' Red
I love, love, love my Huskers, but really, can you blame her?
**********************
Later on, in a feeble attempt to keep up with Chuck's indoctrination of our daughters, I was trying to teach Mihret the words to the Nebraska fight song. It starts out:
There is no place like Nebraska Dear old Nebraska U Where the girls are the fairest The boys are the squarest Of any old place that I knew
I usually forget the rest of the words and sometimes get the girls and boys lines mixed up, which is why my attempts would have to be classified as feeble at best.
Anyway, at dinner tonight Mihret was singing my favorite song and said,
"There is no place like Nebraska Dear old Nebraska U Where the boys are the squarest The girls are the circles...
Zinash has been doing an amazing job of trying new foods. Up to this point in her life, her diet has consisted primarily of a flat bread called injera and a variety of spicy stewed meats, lentils and vegetables called wats. She also ate white bread, called dabo, tea, mangoes, bananas, other "tropical fruit," and popcorn. I'm sure there were other foods she ate as well, but those seemed to be primary.
She came to the US and found out quickly that we didn't have a ready supply of injera or wats (unless we drove 45 minutes to an hour to get to Little Ethiopia in downtown Los Angeles); the mangoes and bananas weren't as tasty; and that we loved cheese, which is something she never ate in Ethiopia. She has been a champ, though, at trying foods - even though she only likes about half of what she tries. So here's a partial list of the likes and dislikes of Zinash as we have discovered thus far...
Foods Zinash Likes
Not So Much
Oranges
Cantaloupe
Red apples
Green apples
Raisins
Dried bananas, apples, or strawberries
Mango and pineapple
Plums
Green grapes
Any green vegetable
White bread
Wheat bread
Apricot or mango jam
Strawberry or raspberry jam
Apple or mango juice
Milk (except with cereal)
Scrambled eggs
Omelettes
Bacon
Sandwich meat
Pancakes
Sandwiches
Cheerios and Life cereals
Oatmeal
Tacos (without cheese)
Salsa
Hamburger
Cheeseburger
Anything with spicy (but not too spicy) meat
Anything with cheese
Rice
Mashed potatoes
Pizza (as long as there isn’t much sauce or cheese)
Tomato-based sauces
Peanut butter
Regular butter or margarine
Popcorn with sugar
Popcorn with butter and salt
Pita chips
Hummus
Zinash at the Guest House in Ethiopia trying ice cream. The verdict is still out on the ice cream: she liked the taste but said that it made her teeth hurt.
This will probably be an ongoing series of thoughts, reflections, and comments regarding my new status as the father of two girls. A) We were a family for about 30 minutes (after picking Z up from the orphanage and bringing her to the guest house where we were staying) when my youngest informed me that I needed to leave the room where we all were staying. Her rationale? "This is a girls only room, Dada- you can come back later". Seriously.
B) My newest daughter's preferred entertainment, as evidenced by the videos she wanted to watch in the guest house and the movies she wanted to watch on the plane ride home: High School Musical 3, The Jonas Brothers, and Hannah Montana. Although there's a language barrier, I continued to tell her "That's not what America is like...", by which I meant "We're not watching this crap when we get home." I can dream, can't I?
We transitioned Mihret from a crib to a toddler bed at around 18 or 19 months because I found her teetering precariously on top of the crib rail one day yelling, "Mama! Mama!" We weren't super excited about not having our baby in a crib, but we also didn't want to take any trips to the ER to deal with head injuries, so we made the switch. Fortunately, she didn't seem to understand that she could get out of her bed by herself...that is, until this past Saturday when she didn't want to take a nap (and in fact, didn't take a nap for the first time since we brought her home). I know, I know...I should be thanking God that we got an extra 6 months of our girl staying in her bed. But now that she's figured it out, she's spending a lot of time showing off her new-found ability. Her little head peaks around the corner with the biggest smile you can imagine. Cute, but terribly inconvenient.
Yesterday I made the mistake of letting Mihret nap for too long. She normally takes one nap that lasts 40 minutes to an hour. She woke up after 45 minutes, but was crying and fussing and seemed so sleepy that I laid down with her in our bed. Big mistake! We both fell asleep. An hour and a half later, I woke up panicked because if Mihret sleeps too long during the day it is super difficult to get her to fall asleep at night. She, on the other hand, was not at all interested in getting out of bed, so it took a while for her to fully wake up. A part of me thought, "Maybe she's needing some extra sleep right now and she'll still sleep good tonight." Wishful thinking...
So last night we read books, I rocked her for a while, put her in bed and patted her back for a while. I thought she was asleep - or at least close to being asleep - so I left and went into our office. About 5 or 10 minutes later, I heard something fall in her room. I got up to check it out and her light was on. Not only that, but she had a handful of books and there were several books on the ground. I asked her what she was doing (I know...stupid question...) and she grinned at me and said something like, "I got books." Oh, of course you did. I put her back in bed and patted her back for a while. She seemed pretty settled, so I left again. This time, she ended up going into our bedroom where Chuck was reading, and said, "Hi, Dada." He put her back to bed and put the gate up so she couldn't leave her room. She got out of bed, turned on the light, and looked at books several more times and each time the response got more and more stern. Finally, I got her to go to sleep and went to bed myself since by this time it was close to 11 pm. Yikes...
An hour or so later, she woke up again and Chuck patted her back and shushed her back to sleep. Then he took down the gate so we wouldn't kill ourselves getting to her room if she woke up again. Around 1:30 am, Chuck woke me up and said, "She was downstairs." Those of you who know me well, know that I am a very sound sleeper and that most of the time when Mihret wakes up in the middle of the night, Chuck is the one who gets up with her because I sleep through it. So it is somewhat amazing that he was able to wake me up to tell me that, but not at all surprising that I couldn't grasp what in the world he was talking about.
Chuck: "She was downstairs." Me: "Who was downstairs?" Chuck: "Our daughter." Me: "Mihret was downstairs? What was she doing downstairs?" Chuck: "Sitting on the stairs." Me: "Did you take her downstairs?" Chuck: "No Carrie, I FOUND her downstairs." Me: "Where is she now?" Chuck: "In bed asleep. I think." Me: "Huh..." (then I turned over and fell back to sleep...sorry, Chuck!)
CCS Edit: And Mihret got up another two times after that, until I finally took her into the spare room and let her sleep with me. After about an hour of her being asleep, I put her back into bed where she stayed until an hour later when she woke up again.
Okay, so I'm not the greatest mom in the middle of the night. Fortunately, Mihret has a good dad! But in the morning when I heard the whole story, it definitely freaked me out. We've decided that we'll have to keep the gate up on her room each night and hope that we remember it when we are trying to get to her in the middle of the night. But how do you keep a child in her bed once she's figured out that she can get out of it? Any suggestions are welcome...
We're also wondering if she is outgrowing her need for a nap. She seems awfully young to not need a nap anymore. Today, I put her down for a nap and thought she was asleep. She woke up as I was leaving and we went through the whole routine again...and again...and again. She never did take a nap today, although she did have an hour or so of "quiet time" (in which she got out of bed every five minutes to see if "quiet time" was over). She went down really, really easy tonight. I'm not ready for her to not take naps anymore, although if it means she sleeps better at night, it MIGHT be worth it. If anyone has any ideas, though, I would certainly welcome them!
Yes, I know we promised updates from Tennessee and birthday spectacular... those are coming. Patience, grasshopper.
Where was I? Right- Today was Mihret's first Easter Egg Hunt. We chose to share this experience with the good folks in Monrovia, where they seemed to have everything in order. "Seemed" is the best word.
The first sign of problems should have been the fact that this event was co-sponsored by the Monrovia YMCA and the Network for a Healthy California. Yeah, it was on the flier, but it was hammered home like an atom bomb when the person on the loudspeaker informed everyone that "This year, there is no candy in the eggs; only toys".
Two things-
Any toy that would fit in an egg would also fit in the windpipe of a small child. Good thinking, Monrovia.
NO candy? At an Easter egg hunt? Are you freaking kidding me? What's the purpose of being a parent if you don't get any... uh... if your kids don't celebrate the resurrection of our Lord with sugary goodness? They've already screwed up Halloween, I guess this was the next logical choice.
Mihret being healthy. Derek being Derek
One thing we were thankful for was the decision to allow the kids to "search" by age group. They had the corral all set up, and even had about 6 teen aged and young adult volunteers to help with the process. Remember that number.
Volunteers volunteering. Now I get to tell Mihret that eggs don't come from boxes. Thanks, guys.
The calm before the storm
So, the "plan" was to have all of the kiddos (you know, the two year olds?) come inside the fence, wait on the perimeter, and then go get the eggs on the signal. Initially, there seemed to be a "no parents" rule, but after the 6 volunteers looked at the 60 toddlers, they changed that pretty quickly.
Herding cats. Check Derek's form- proper stance, visualize the target.
Eyes on the prize, dada. Eyes on the prize.
So, after 20 minutes of waiting in line, being banished to the outer regions, and being told repeatedly to "wait... don't touch that... wait...", the kids were given the signal.
To be honest, I think our little boo was a bit overwhelmed; she froze. But, so did about 80% of the kids there- that is, until their parents got involved. Some were holding hands and encouraging, some were looking at everything through the viewfinder, some stood back and watched the chaos. I was firmly lodged in group A.
But there was another type of parent, though, that absolutely amazed me- although, given what I do for a living, I shouldn't have been surprised. As I knelt there trying to let my daughter know that things were OK, and that the eggs were there to be picked up I was overwhelmed by the people who were scooping up goodies into their kids baskets. It's almost as if they didn't hear the announcement about "no candy this year."
The lady in the gray shirt over my shoulder actually nudged Derek out of the way to put more eggs in her daughter's full basket.
I can understand two year olds being a bit self absorbed and not understanding how to share. I guess I was surprised to be reminded that adults have the same issue.
Staged discovery, for mama and her new camera
Mihret ended up with two eggs, one of which we gave to a little boy who had gotten pushed out of the scrum and ended up with nothing. Again, this isn't about haves and have nots- if Mihret hadn't "found" any eggs while all the other kids did, that wouldn't be a problem. But when role models don't model...
Anywho- nothing says "Christ is risen" like hoards of kids being encouraged to compete over resources in a "whoever gets the most is the best" mentality. It really goes against the true meaning of Easter.
Take a second and wrap your minds around that: We are parents of a two year old. Or, put another way, we haven't screwed this up irreparably as in a little under a year and a half.
And, you know what? I think these 16 months may have been the some of the best of my life.
Tonight was just the family celebration, her "official" birthday party is on Saturday- cake and all the trimmings.
So, we should have lots of photos up sometime soon.
That is, if I can find her underneath the pile of Little People she's acquired...
We're starting potty training. The other day, someone said that they were "sad"
Carrie: "Why are you sad, Mihret?" Mihret: "For the pee" "uh... What?!?!?" "It's in the potty... baby sad" "Ummm... that's where pee goes, hon. It's sad when it's not there..." "Yeah?" "Yeah, baby- pee in diapers is sad. Pee in toilet is a good thing." "Yeah?" "Would I lie to you?"
The day after my last post, Mihret showed me the pair of gloves that I bought for her a few weeks before and had completely forgotten about. That's right...they were upstairs.
Then yesterday we were playing in the garage. I took the sand toys out of the bottom of her stroller and within a minute, a smiling Mihret brought me the puzzle piece that had been missing for weeks. Shortly after it went missing, I asked Mihret if she knew where it was. She said, "stroller." It didn't make any sense to me that the piece would be in the stroller because the stroller was in the garage and we had kept the puzzle in the house, so I didn't even check. "Told you so, Mama..."
"At the Center for Cognitive Science at Ohio StateUniversity, researchers have found that memory accuracy of adults is hurt by the fact that they know more than children and tend to apply this knowledge when learning new information. The findings appeared in the August 2004 edition of the journal Psychological Science." (Wikipedia)
Evidently, my brain is full. If anyone is looking for a Christmas gift idea for me, I need a memory upgrade.
For Halloween this year, I found a little tutu at the Goodwill store so I thought that Mihret could be a ballerina. Chuck was not impressed. He was thinking she could be an army guy or a football player. The options at the Goodwill were fairly limited, though. Unfortunately, Mihret was not impressed either. I tried to get Mihret to try the skirt on several times before Halloween and she was not having it. "Noooooo!" Hmmm...choose your battles. Right?
My dear friend Tara gave me an idea the night before Halloween, so Halloween morning Mihret and I watched some Sesame Street videos online in which Zoey was wearing a ballerina outfit. Then I said, "Mihret, you get to dress up like Zoey later today!"
"Baby Zoey?"
"Yes, you can wear a fun ballerina skirt like Zoey."
Bingo! So the Goodwill tutu came in handy after all and Chuck even agreed that she was adorable. He was even more pleased, though, to see that she was a football-playing ballerina.
Mihret/Zoey/Ballerina/Football Player Getting the Mail
Speaking of getting the mail, several weeks ago one of our neighbors decorated for Halloween. Mihret was not a fan.
We had to pass by the decorations every day when we went out to get the mail, but Mihret was really scared of the skeleton. She loves to get the mail, though, so she came up with a variety of ways to deal with her fear. At first she had me carry her past the skeleton. She would then "hide" in my hair or behind the mail. After a few days of that, she decided that she could "hide" better by wearing one of my hats and her sun glasses. This disguise actually allowed her to walk down the path by herself instead of being carried.
You can take the girl out of Malibu, but you can't take Malibu out of the girl
By the day before Halloween, she worked up the courage to stand directly in front of the skeleton and take off her hat and sunglasses.
She's found that it's hilarious to add words to songs... "Row, Row, Row your Dada", and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star; How I wonder what you Mama" are among her repertoire.
Last night she was giggling herself to tears doing the alphabet song: "A B C D E F Dada, H I J K LMNO Hat..."
You get the idea. Anywho, it reminded me of one of my favorite moments from the Children's Television Workshop (Yeah, I have favorites. What of it? Don't get me started on the man with the tan van...).
In honor of our nine month "anniversary" of being united as a family, I thought I'd actually get onto our website and write a post. Wonders never cease...
Mihret's vocabulary has been growing by leaps and bounds lately. At last count, she had words for over 100 things, although to be honest, unless you spent a lot of time with her you would probably only understand a handful of them. Her words aren't always accurate, but they are consistent. For instance, "garbage" is "dah-doo." No idea why, but that's what she calls it and she is slightly obsessed with identifying and throwing away garbage.
Here are a few other words that she likes to say:
Orno Mihret loves oranges. She calls them "orno." Last night we were coloring a picture of Winnie the Pooh. Mihret picked up an orange crayon and said "orno." I was surprised because she's only used that word for the fruit, but I said, "Yes, that's an orange crayon." She scribbled on the page for a little while and then put her crayon on Pooh, looked up at me, and asked, "Orno Pooh?"
Mihret showing Abby Jane where her belly is
Abby G Mihret also loves our friends' daughter, Abby Jane. She calls her "Abby G." Abby Jane and her parents were our neighbors at Pepperdine and we spent a lot of time playing in the courtyard with them. Even though we've moved, Mihret still says "Abby G" many times a day and often asks to look at pictures of Abby Jane on the "pooter" (computer). Emily and Abby Jane came to visit us in Duarte a couple weeks, and Mihret was thrilled! Abby Jane is 10 months younger than Mihret, but both girls seemed really happy to see each other. Who knew that children that young made friends?
Mihret entertaining us and everyone sitting around us at an outdoor concert in Monrovia
Eight Mihret just started "counting" a few days ago. I don't think she really understands what the numbers mean, but she's heard us count a lot and she's learning the pattern. She get's the first two down really well. "One...doo..." Sometimes she'll get three ("ee") and four ("foe"), but regardless of whatever other numbers she says, she always ends with "eight!" Clear as a bell and said with excitement: "One...doo...eight!" "One...doo...ee...foe...eight!" "Foe...eight!"
Walking in Mama's flip-flops
Shoes Another of Mihret's favorite words is "shoes." She likes to wear shoes - whether they are hers or someone else's. She's been trying to figure out how to walk in my flip-flops ever since we moved to Duarte. Give her a couple more weeks, and she'll probably think they're her flip-flops!
Every condo needs a pool
Waddy Although shoes are cool, they are not nearly as cool as "waddy" (water). She loves to play in the water, whether it is in her pool, in the sink, or in the bathtub. By far the best way to play in the water, though, is to pull the spout on the Brita filter in the refrigerator while Mama has her hands full taking things out. Awesome...
Mihret is 16 months old, and we're chronicling some of the things that she has learned. You know, words and stuff.
We also play the "how does the _____ go?" game; she's got a veritable cornucopia of animal sounds. She know duck, chicken, cow, walrus (seriously), squirrel, owl, elephant, birdie, turkey, fish... the classics.
My favorite, though is "Horse". This video may explain things (wait till the end):
Yup, "Horsies" go "Wilbur". I'm so proud.
She's also learned to spell her first word. Any guesses?
She doesn't know what it means, but will soon enough.
Mom and Dad haven't updated my...I mean, "our"...blog for a long time and I'm not real happy about it. I figured it was time to take matters into my own hands.
Here's us. In case you've forgotten what we look like.
Dada and I have been watching a lot of basketball. He's teaching me lots of new words. Most of them have more than four letters.
Mama and I have been really busy sitting around outside, playing with rocks, and blowing bubbles. Maybe that's why you haven't heard from us for a while...
Mama calls me a "fashionista" whenever I wear my shades.
Whatever. All I know is that this hat works. See? These sunglasses don't go with my outfit at all... And I'm also learning something called "yoga". I thought it was what we had for breakfast. (Seriously, she won't put both of her feet down on sand.)
I'm getting pretty good at animal impressions. Here's how a little birdy goes.
Hopefully it won't be as long before we talk again!
Mihret, with one of her many boxes in the background
