Siding and Entertainment

So I haven't been around for awhile. Chalk it up to taking a course, running a school show, some UNICEF stuff I'm doing, teaching a split class, oh--and the parenting thing. But today I'm home with the Spills, whose nose is doing its best impression of a faucet turned on to its fullest.

Until a few minutes ago, all was going well. We'd drawn a picture of scary things, written and illustrated the first page of a Sesame Street book, created a recipe for "Cinnamon Abia," and only been scratched nineteen times by our new kitten, Lauchlin Jean.

Then came the doorbell.

Turns out my hubby had booked these guys to put siding on the front of the house. I vaguely remembered seeing some receipt of the quote he'd been given weeks ago. So today they decided to show up, without a phone call. Luckily I was at home with the afore-mentioned Leaky Faucet.

Anyway, I called hubby, and he explained everything, and I have a cheque waiting for these guys when they're done. In the meantime, though, they are in for quite a show.

Spills has installed herself on the window seat in her bedroom. She has been dancing provocatively on it for the last few minutes and belting out "The Circle of Life" while waving at the men on the roof. She has also been waving Lockey (kitten) at them, and making his paws swivel around in friendly ways. She's also been shouting things at them through the glass like, "Did you know I was sick today? Did you know Daddy went to his new job today?" Now, I notice that she has gotten out her microphone, and seems to be delivering some kind of lecture complete with hoots that sound a bit like "Joy To The World."

I'm sure these guys will call first next time.

It's all in the genes....

So, last night Spilly threw herself around the house, yelling, "Allabaydomarolalabiddamobo...." or something like that, in various gradations of operatic grandeur.

I said to my husband, just to see what he'd do, "She gets it from Daddy."

He gave me a withering look. We both know where she gets it from. Not that I would ever throw myself around the house bellowing a tune. Not me.

Spilly said, "What did I get from Daddy?"

"You inherited your singing from Daddy," I told her. "You're just like Daddy."

By now, my husband was rolling his eyes at the useless pair of us.

"I'm not Daddy! Daddy, I'm not you. I'm a YOUNG WOMAN."

Oh no, it's spreading!

So, my hubby tells me that a strange thing occurred at the school bus stop today, on the second day of school. There he was with Spilly and a gazillion other small kindergarten-type people, waiting for the school bus.

The previous day, they'd all stood quite passively, nervous about what lay ahead, and not knowing each other. Today, though, it was different. Today, the tiny boys and girls were throwing themselves around. And as they ran, they were all shouting, "I'm coming to get you, Sanjaya!"

And, "Look out, Sanjaya!"

And, "Oh no, Sanjaya, run! It's the monster!"

The other parents looked a little puzzled.

Not my hubby. He was too busy alternating between guilt and trying not to laugh. Looks like the Spills wasted no time at school yesterday in bringing the other kindergartners up to speed on the Cult of the Mighty One.

Things Overheard During Dinner Outside

1. If I touch this pea I will turn into a princess and this backyard will be my kingdom.

2. I like you better than the water tower. No, I LOVE you better than the water tower.

3. Do you know who won't be around during the winter? Butterflies. But not snowy owls, because they like the snow.

4. Oops, I sneezed my rice.

5. I can make my voice bumpy like Sanjaya. See? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

6. Is Atlantis in Italy? Did it get covered by water? How did the water get on top of it?

7. Can we go to Atlantis?

8. Has Sanjaya ever gone under the water?

9. I think that bird was an EAGLE. Or maybe it was a vulture.

10. I AM eating my zucchini. I like zucchini. There are only two things I don't like - onions and black pepper. Oh, there are three things I don't like. I also don't like Jack and Jill cold medicine.

Nocturnal Creatures

Spilly said to me yesterday, "I know something about Mr. Thomas. He's nocturnal."

After I finished laughing, I said, "Do you know what nocturnal means?"

"Yes, I do. It means they sleep in the day and they stay up all night to hunt. Like raccoons and possums and bats and Mr. Thomas."

"Mr. Thomas stays up all night to hunt? Are you sure?"

"He hunts for fires."

"Ohh," I said.

It's true. Our neighbour is a fireman. And sometimes he works at night.

I said teasingly, "Maybe when you grow up you can be nocturnal too."

"No. I'm going to be a kindergarten teacher. And they have to get a lot of sleep at night."

Back to School Time

This was the Best Summer Ever. This summer took us camping, to a cottage, to New York City, to Salem, Massachusetts, to Bar Harbor, Maine, and to Halifax. We swam and laughed and saw a Broadway show (Mary Poppins).

But this week was back to the grind. I headed into my classroom on Monday and have been outfitting it all week, preparing lesson plans. Same ritual every year.

Except that Spilly is old enough now to Help. And so she asked if she could join me today. I hummed and hawed, and then thought about how I needed a whole lot of pencils sharpened, books put on desks, etc. So I said, "Well...yes, I think I could use some help."

"Yahoo!" And she began pelting up the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to put on my teacher clothes."

Her teacher clothes consisted of a red t-shirt and jeans. Apparently this is what teachers wear. This week, anyway. We might spiff up a bit for the first day of school and all.

When we got to school, she met my teaching partner, who immediately laid some more pencils on her. He also told her that it was currently 9:36, and he'd like the pencils back by 9:39. It took her a minute to realize he was joking! Then she got to it, while I began doing some of the nine thousand things on my list.

After a few minutes: "Mommy."

"Yes."

"My hand is tired."

"Your hand is tired of holding a pencil in an electric pencil sharpener?"

"Yes."

"What are we going to do about that?" I said, wondering how I was going to entertain her for the full day.

"I think I'd better draw a picture."

She was in the right place, of course. My classroom is nothing if not art-ready. We pulled out brand new pencil crayons and paper and set her up at a desk. Some time later, she brought the picture to me.

"It's very nice! What is it?"

Slightly miffed, she said, "Mount St. Helen's."

"Oh, yes, of course it is."

"Let's give it to that other teacher."

"Won't he be wondering where his pencils are?"

"We'll tell him his pencils are almost ready."

"Right."

The other teacher was very pleased with his picture and put it up on his wall. Then he and Spilly discussed Vesuvius in quite a bit of detail. And Barack Obama.

Back to the classroom.

"Do you want to do some more pencils?"

"No, I think I'm tired of that."

"Hmm. Do you want to put some books on desks?"

"YES!!!"

So I continued with my list of nine thousand things.

A few minutes later: "Mommy."

"Yes?"

"How many more books do I have to put out?"

"Well, there are 21 kids right now, and they all need a book. And that's just the yellow notebook. There's also a blue notebook, and a pink notebook, and...."

"Aaaaaaah," said Spilly.

"How about we go and photocopy some things?" I said.

"YES!!!"

So we photocopied things. Then we printed some stuff and went to the library to pick it up. While in the library, we couldn't help but notice all the books. So we read, "My Baby Brother is an Alien," and "Olivia Prepares for Christmas." Then we headed back to Mommy's classroom.

On the way, we ran into the principal. Spilly and she had an extended discussion about the state of Mommy's room. Spilly said there was a lot to do and she hoped her teacher would be ready for Tuesday.

I do too. The poor woman doesn't know what's about to hit her.

The Ladies Who Lunch

So yesterday Spills and I took ourselves on a girls' outing, while Daddy worked. I believe we had the better end of the deal.

We started by buying books at Chapters -- a bunch of gifts for her cousins, who we'll be seeing this weekend. Then we found a pile of beginning readers for Spills herself, as well as a sticker book. Spilly is a sucker for all kinds of stickers. And I am a sucker for the silence that falls whenever Spills works on a sticker book.

Next, we headed to Wal-Mart for a few boring necessities. We also fell into the delightful conversation that all parents look forward to wholeheartedly:

"Mommy, can I buy that?"

"No."

Occasionally, she'd experiment with mind-games: "Mommy, I think we really need that for your gardening. We could put those stickers on sticks beside each of your flowers. Wouldn't that look nice?"

"No."

Or else she'd play the grief card: "I have asked and I have asked, and you have always said no. Are you going to say yes this time, about this [insert the name of wonderful thing here]????"

"No."

Then we took ourselves out for lunch, just the two of us, to Kelsey's. We NEVER have lunch in a restaurant with just the two of us. Spills thought it was marvellous. She was excellent company, too. Our discussions ranged from how to create secondary colours (we experimented using the three primary-coloured crayons given to us) to how the dinosaurs died. Spills would like to see the crater left behind by the asteroid. She is disappointed to learn that it is under water.

The best part was heading home afterwards to try to read some of our books. She got into a rhythm: first she would read a book, and then she would leap around the living room, yelling, "And now, an American Idol CELEBRATION!!"

And I sat there thinking about what good company she was, on the whole, and what a lucky Mommy I was to be mentally exhausted all the time.