Spilly and the Fish

So tonight we had a little time before bath time, and I said, "How about a story?"

"Great!"

"What do you want?"

"Buddha."

We have a book called Kindness, which is a collection of stories about Buddha. So I chose the one about the blind men and the elephant, the one in which each man feels one part of the elephant and thinks that he knows about the whole animal. Then, of course, everyone argues about what an elephant is like, because their experiences are all limited and none of them recognizes the full picture.

"Why are they all mad at each other?" Spilly asked.

"Well, they can only see their little piece of the elephant. They think it's the whole elephant. They can't understand each other's point of view. Really, they are all touching the very same animal, but they don't know that. If they knew that, they wouldn't be fighting."

Spilly was silent for awhile. Then she hopped off the couch. She said, "Be RIGHT BACK."

A few moments later she returned, wearing her enormous fuzzy blue fish hat, the one with luscious lips and a tail that swishes when you shake your head.

She hopped up on the couch beside me, and said, "Feel my head. What do you think it is?"

I felt the tail. "This is definitely a fan."

Spilly felt one of the bulging eyeballs. "No, it's a ball for playing."

I felt the lips. "No, it's a rainbow."

She took it off her head, and waved it in front of me. "MOM!!! IT'S A FIIIISSSSHHHHH!!!!!"

The best laid plans of mice and men....

So Spilly hurled herself on the bed this morning, armed with books and questions about the words she had been deciphering by herself in her room, and that's how the day started. It progressed through oatmeal and sucanat and then turned into Biking Plans.

We are getting into biking, our little family. We all have bikes, and of course we also have the cool trail-a-bike thingy that turns an ordinary bike into a tandem bike. We now have a hitch for the van. So....we decided we would drive to the Elora Cataract Trailway (here it is: http://www.trailway.org/) and then enjoy a bike ride that would include a good look at the Elora Gorge.

With great high spirits we headed out. When we arrived at the trail, Spills and I got hats and things out and helped in our not-very-useful way to assemble the trail-a-bike. Then, while DH was putting the finishing touches on the assembly (which really means, doing most of it himself), we capered around and pretended we were on top of Mount Vesuvius. That's when Spills got the idea of taking the trail-a-bike flag (bright orange) and waving it at passing motorists, yelling, "I'm Sanjaya Malakar, and I'm going biking!" We did get a few honks. Crazy four-year-olds with bike helmets and orange flags who are shouting indecipherable things at passing cars do sometimes get attention.

So, after a lot of grunting and growling, hubby got us up and running. We headed off along the trail. We had a great time looking at the gorge. Then we started getting our speed up.

And the rain started, slowly at first, and then harder.

We ignored it for awhile, till it was actually obscuring the view up ahead. Finally hubby slowed down, stopped, and said, "Hmm."

"It's raining, I think," I said, dripping.

"Turn around," said hubby regretfully.

We turned around and began gloomily back along the trail.

The rain stopped. The sun peeked out.

"Did you notice it's not raining now?" I asked after awhile.

"I noticed."

"Turn around?"

"Turn around."

So we laboriously got the trail-a-bike turned around again, and we beamed at each other, and off we went.

And the rain started again. And the view disappeared again.

Hubby stopped again.

"It's raining," Spills said.

"Turn around," said hubby grimly.

We turned around. Off we went, back toward the car.

The rain stopped. The sun came out.

"It's sunny," I said.

"Till we turn around again," said Hubby.

"It might stay sunny."

"The question," said Hubby, "is if it will stay sunny if we go to Flapjacks for eggs?"

That, we realized, was the question that REALLY needed to be answered. So off we went for an early lunch.

Spaghetti and Chopsticks

We have been gradually building a friendship with the family of a little girl who rides the bus with Spilly. They've had her over after school several times, and often call an hour or so after she's gotten there, to ask if she can stay for dinner as well. So tonight we invited Spilly's friend (and the friend's older brother, who is a highly interesting seven-year-old Sarah Brightman and Titanic fanatic) to come over to our place after school and stay for dinner.

Hubby and I hung out in the kitchen, listening to them play in the backyard and smiling as the game got more and more elaborate. It was entitled, "Nature Trail," but we couldn't figure out exactly how that figured into people fainting and running around shouting, "Daddy, where are you?" It was a nature trail fraught with danger at any rate.

Supper was spaghetti. From the kitchen I called out, "Now, does everyone want me to cut up their spaghetti, or do they want to keep it long?"

"Long!" the friends said.

"Short!" said Spilly.

So out came the long and short spaghetti. One child began to eat. The other two looked somewhat gloomily at their plates.

At last, the older brother said, "Don't you have any chopsticks?"

Hubby jumped up and said, "Yes, we do!" Years ago, we had bought a pack of plastic chopsticks in Chinatown in Toronto. Out they came from the china cupboard.

"Can I have chopsticks too?" Spills asked.

In the end, we all had chopsticks. And let me tell you, spaghetti is very fun to eat in this way. It also allows you to make outrageous slurping noises. And it enables the new friends to laugh at our family that has never before eaten spaghetti with chopsticks.

This is clearly a friendship with great potential.

Near-Perfect Day

So the kid came to my school today and was treated like royalty. As a result, she is being a class A dunderhead at the moment.

She spent the first part of the afternoon in Mrs. S's room, where she made a lovely paper-bag robin and participated in a variety of bean-planting activities. Then it was off to the Charlotte Diamond concert which, by all accounts, was great. She was picked to go onstage to be the back part of a "walking bus" (Mrs. S was the front of it), and for that privilege received a signed thank-you card from Charlotte Diamond.

After the concert was over, she was escorted out to my portable by several of my students. Some of them ran ahead to tell me, "She doesn't want to come."

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Well, she doesn't have to. If she wants to stay with the grade ones, that's okay."

"She won't leave the doorway."

"Really? Why not?"

"She's telling everyone, 'I made a picture, and then I got to go on the stage, and....'"

"Ah," I said. "She's too busy talking. I see. I think she'll come in a minute."

Sure enough, the remainder of my student emissaries arrived shortly thereafter with Spilly in tow. She made a grand entrance and then made a beeline for one of my students, Jamal, who is her favourite (he is very funny to her, but also an enigma because he does not like chocolate ice cream and she cannot understand how anyone cannot like chocolate ice cream). She sat beside him, and he fed her sour candies.

We were in the middle of a rehearsal for our class show (we've written our own musical version of Anne of Green Gables). She sang along with gusto, despite knowing none of the words. Whenever Jamal sang or stood, she did too. And she deeply enjoyed the accolades from all sides (grade six girls are very fond of tiny people).

Then it was back to Mrs. S's room after school for a debrief about it all. We hung out doing experiments for a bit (it is cool to watch air bubbles come up through soil, when you pour water on top of it) and listening to Charlotte Diamond's latest song on the CD player. While we were busy with these activities, the classroom phone rang. Charlotte Diamond was just leaving and wanted to say good bye. So the three of us trooped down to the foyer, and I got a chance to meet Charlotte Diamond! Very cool. She embraced Mrs. S (Mrs. S has this effect on people), and we all chatted for a few moments. I got to tell her that she has been a really big part of our family. Then off she went, and off we went.

Once we were home, we were convinced that we needed a walk in the glorious sunshine. So we took ourselves off to the convenience store that's about twenty-five minutes away, and Spilly got to choose an ice-cream treat!

Now she's in the bath, warbling away. I don't expect her to stay there for long though, as she's already gotten out twice to come and see what I am doing. This is utterly against the rules, but I have a feeling she thinks this is a day on which rules are suspended. Sigh.

Big Day Coming

There's no living with Spills tonight, and she's going to be worse tomorrow. She's been invited to partake in a very special treat. My wonderful colleague Mrs. S, who teaches grade one at my school, and who is surely one of the Great Teachers, has asked if Spilly would like to be in her class tomorrow afternoon. They will do a craft, and then they will all head to a concert in our gym by none other than one of Spilly's (and Mrs. S's, and my) favourite singers, Charlotte Diamond.

When I first broached the subject with Spills, some weeks ago, she began leaping around, yelling, "Mrs. S! Charlotte Diamond! Mrs. S! Charlotte Diamond!"

Mrs. S is as great a draw for Spilly as Charlotte Diamond (who is a huge draw). Mrs. S keeps snakes in her classroom and grows avocado trees and has a passion for bugs of all sorts. She also adores every kind of music you can imagine. Her students all tend to become junior scientists, out inspecting foliage for various things at recesses. She and Spilly are kindred spirits of a rare sort. Unlike those who showered Spills with princess paraphernalia at Christmas, Mrs. S gave her a book about volcanoes.

As for me, I will be pining away in my classroom tomorrow, wishing I could be at the concert too. Alas, I teach the really "big kids," and they are not going to be attending. They are, however, going to be as insufferable as Spills in their own way, as I've let slip that Spills will be in the school and they want her to spend the afternoon with them. One of my boys said, "She HAS to come meet us, because it's my birthday tomorrow!"

Now I just have to figure out how I can rip her in two, so she can be in two places at once.

Origins of Love

"Mommy," Spilly said tonight, "Did we start loving each other the minute I was born?"

"Actually," I said, "I started loving you long before you were born."

"I did too. Could you hear me saying, 'I love you, Mommy' in your tummy?"

"No," I said. "But I could certainly feel you wriggling around in there."

"That's when I was giving you a hug."

Goin' to the Chapel....

So after school the Spills frequently likes to engage in a little dress-up. Today she headed upstairs to the tickle trunk, and helped herself to some clothes. I could hear her humming away to herself, yanking things on.

All was well till the sobbing started. I ran to the bottom of the stairs.

"What's wrong?"

Wordlessly, weeping and shaking with despair, she held up the white skirt that was part of her bride outfit. It was ripped down the side. The damage happened some weeks ago when Spills' friend was over and tried the skirt on. Her friend is a few years older and consequently a little too big for the bride outfit. Spilly had been unaware of the damage, and I'd completely forgotten.

"I think we can fix it," I said, hoping I remembered how to use the sewing machine. It's been a long time since home economics.

We hauled the sewing machine out of the basement, threaded it somehow (it's amazing the things you remember), and managed to sew a seam that was sort of headed in the right direction. When we were done, Spilly put on her skirt and pranced around with great joy.

Then she said, "Mommy, does this look like YOUR wedding dress?"

"You've seen my wedding dress. It was big and poofy with yellow roses."

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs in the cedar chest."

And then you guessed it. The little minx talked me into going upstairs and hauling the thing out. Along with the world's largest and most in-your-face crinoline.

"Can you put it on, Mommy?"

"I...suppose it's possible I could," I said.

"Do it! Do it ! Do it!"


.....And thus it was that when Daddy came in from doing manly things in the garage with various tools, he found his two women sitting in front of the tv in their wedding dresses.

And he just sighed.

"I'll go get the camera."

Family Night

Spills is howling out a tune in the bath at the moment and banging on the side of the tub with what sound like playmobil toys (or, as we call them in our household, "Bordies"). She is in high spirits, having monopolized the meal of the people beside us, at the Japanese restaurant we ate at tonight.

She was very much egged on by the people at that table, who had a one-year-old daughter. I am willing to swear that the mom was a teacher just finishing up her maternity leave, because she spoke to Spills in that you-and-I-are-on-the-same-level way that some teachers are able to do. Also, they had a lengthy discussion about how great math was. At the end, there was a very tender farewell, with hugs all around. Sometimes I have difficulty remembering what it used to be like to go to restaurants and be anonymous. I think I liked it. Although there's something to be said for being the parent of the party animal.

After dinner, we headed off to Scholar's Choice to find a gift for Spilly's boyfriend Robbie, who is turning four tomorrow. We decided upon a cool snails board game and the book, "Harry the Dirty Dog." Spills wanted to also get him a miniature radio, some dolls and a flexible frog ring, but we decided against these in the end.

And now, I am hearing ominous splashes for the tub. Spills is yelling, "Rock and Roll" in her best vibrato. Think it may be time to draw this blog entry and the bath to a close. Good night!

Spring? Really??!!

So Spills has been sick as a dog but is back on the road to Healthville. To celebrate, she and I planned to go out after school with her big-girl two-wheeler. The one she is worried about riding, because she has not instantly become perfect at it.

Before we left, she said, "I think we're just going to walk around the block."

I said, "Oh no, I thought we were going to ride your two-wheeler."

"No, I think we're going to walk."

"Why?"

"Because I like to walk," Spills said with dignity.

We headed out the door and began to walk along the sidewalk. I said, "I guess you're too scared to ride your bike."

"I'm not!"

"I think you are."

"NOT!!!!"

This went back and forth for awhile and then I let up for a bit. Until I couldn't resist the urge to make chicken noises. She wasn't amused. I kept it up. And finally she turned around and started stamping away.

"Where are you going?" I said.

"TO!!! GET!!! MY!!! BIKE!!!!"

So a short while later, there we were merrily humming along the sidewalk, me at a brisk walk and she on the mighty two-wheeler. We made it midway around the block before running into a friend of hers from kindergarten who was on his way to the park with his Grandma. After we parted ways, it occurred to me that Spills had not yet ridden her bike all the way to the park.

I said to her, "Hey, wanna hear about something that is a VERY incredible challenge?"

"What is it?"

"I think I know a way we could ride your bike TO THE PARK."

"How? How?"

"I think if we cross the street over there and go along that road, we might get to the back entrance to the park. And your friend is going in the front entrance. So we might meet up with him over there!"

The whole way over, I kept commenting aloud about how great it was to be able to ride your bike to the park. After all, walking to the park takes forever and is very boring. Riding your bike to the park takes about two minutes and then you have more time for playing.

We made it just as her friend arrived. They proceeded to have a fabulous play for more than an hour. I had a great chat with his Grandma. Everywhere you looked in the park were joyful kids racing around, and crazed-looking adults who had been starved all winter for a good chin-wag amid greenery.

Spring. I think it might finally be here. I hesitate to say that too loudly though.

Sunny Sunday

We packed our day with sunshine and a lot of tramping around, by heading to the zoo first thing this morning. There we met with Spilly's good friend Simon and Simon's mother. It was "Teacher Day," so Simon's Mom and I got in free. Love getting into things free!

Spills hasn't been to the zoo in several months. It was interesting to see the change in her from the last time we were there. She and Simon roared around the place pretending to be orangutans and mandrills and gibbons. They clip-clopped back and forth in front of the grizzly bear's den, trying to make the sleeping bear think they were deer so it would wake up and try to eat them. They made blubbing sounds at the fish. They also insisted on jointly pulling the wagon that we'd brought along, which made us all wonder why we'd brought it in the first place.

After the zoo, it was home for bike riding in the beautiful late-afternoon sunshine. I took my bike around the neighbourhood, narrowly missing numerous street-hockey and soccer games. Spills and her Daddy set off with her new bike and had made it laboriously about three-quarters of the way around the block by the time I got back. I hung out with them the rest of the way.

When we went back inside, I got online and booked our camping weekends for the summer. We'll be going to three different provincial parks--Craigleith, Kilbear and Earl Rowe. Of the three, we've only been to Earl Rowe before, so it should be a fun new experience to try the other two parks.

All in all, a very peaceful family day. Which may well prove to have been the calm before the storm, as Spills has started sneezing explosively....

New Additions

Well, Spilly and I bought bikes today. Not just any bikes! These are fancy-schmancy swanky bikes. Spilly's is pink and white. Mine is a dusty blue. Spills has stars on hers and tassels and a wicker carrier at the front. Mine has a flower.

The last time I bought a bike was 16 years ago. I was amazed to discover that bikes have come a long way in that time. For one thing, you no longer have to move a lever to switch gears, toggling it slowly back and forth until it finds the "sweet spot" of the next gear up or down (or, in the case of my 16-year-old bike, whatever gear the bike decided it wanted to shift into). Now there's a swanky switch I flick, and the bike INSTANTLY shifts gears. Who knew it could be that easy???? Also, they now have women's "comfort" bikes with amazing shock absorbers that make you feel like you're riding on buddah.

I was very impressed with the guy who helped us. He took lots of time to measure me and the bike and did all kinds of adjustments to the bike's height and the length from the seat to the handles, etc. Since I'm the world's shortest person, I am very used to bikes feeling way too big for me. But THIS bike...ahhhhhh....it is exactly the right length and height for me. I didn't know that such things existed.

Spills, as usual, won herself a new ally in the Spills-will-conquer-the-world campaign. She engaged our salesperson in a lengthy dialogue about a wide range of topics. He said, "You're something else," several times. The upshot: she left the store with a number of complimentary items, including the coolest ladybug bike bell I have ever seen (its wings actually open and close). I might note that I was not offered anything of a complimentary nature.

Morning Rituals

Much as I hate to leave my little family in the morning, I do enjoy the process of getting out the door. Because Spilly is a woman of habit, and her habits tend to be quite entertaining.

After breakfast, she helps me into my coat and hands me my lunch bag and purse. Then she pushes me bodily toward the garage door, while saying soothing things like, "It'll be okay, you don't have to worry, sweetie. You'll be home again in no time."

She's being me, you see, and I am supposed to be her. I have absolutely no idea how the game started, but it's ironclad.

"Okay, Mom," I say. "And will we play together after school?"

"Yes we will, sweetie."

"And will we have a snack?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"And will we sing songs and do crafts and have stories?"

Big sigh. "YES, sweetie, but you have to go now."

Massive push out the door.

"Good bye, sweetie. And sweetie--don't let the bed bugs bite!"

Slam.

The April Fool

Spilly is entranced by the idea of April Fool's Day. She thinks it's just great that people go around all day doing crazy things to each other. She thinks it's even better that people yell, "April Fool's!!" She practised a lot today. Here are some of her more noteworthy pranks:

1. Mommy, I'm going to put Daddy in the garbage. APRIL FOOL'S!!

2. I think there's a monster behind the piano. I think you should go and look. APRIL FOOL'S!!

3. [poking adult vigorously] APRIL FOOL'S!!

4. [leaning around the corner of the door wearing a fish hat] APRIL FOOL'S!!

5. Sidney is back in the bathroom. APRIL FOOL'S!! (Sidney is our resident spider. Mommy doesn't like Sidney very much.)

6. I'm full and I don't want any more supper. APRIL FOOL'S!!

7. Monty was telling Ribbon that from now on Ribbon is Monty's pet. APRIL FOOL'S!!

8. Let's sneak up behind Daddy and yell APRIL FOOL'S!! ....APRIL FOOL'S!!

9. We're not eating dinner right now, we're eating breakfast. APRIL FOOL'S!!

10. From now on, Daddy is Mommy and Mommy is Daddy. APRIL FOOL'S!!

....It's pretty clear to me who the fool is in our family.