Preschool pedicures

Yesterday, in the middle of a painting and coloring session Will decided he wanted to paint his nails with marker because “some people do that at school” (meaning some people -- we'll assume they're girls -- come to school with painted nails). Perhaps if I weren’t such a slacker when it comes to toenail aesthetics, nail-painting, would seem more mundane to Will, but he’s never seen me in painted nails so I’m sure it adds to the intrigue.

I started to protest his nail coloring plan, and I did point out (in a purely informational tone, not a ridiculing one) that typically women and girls paint their nails. But Will was eager to take on the project and I thought, well the markers are washable – what’s the harm in it? So he painted every one of his fingernails and toenails red. I didn’t want him to get the marker in his mouth, so we washed the hands almost immediately -- but only after I agreed to take this photo so he could show his dad what he’d done. I told Will he could keep the toenails painted if he’d wear his easily washable crocs for our walk to the park. Of course as soon as he started swinging he kicked off his crocs, leaving some rather feminine looking toenails on display for all park-goers to see. Rob was more than happy to wash that nail job off in the bath.

Library picks

On our last trip to the library, Will picked up this book, which I am by no means recommending to you.

“Mom, this is so cool!” he said about 15 times in a row in what was most certainly NOT a library voice. "Look at all these bad boys."

I wasn’t too keen on the book, which features lots of knights wielding axes and lances and the “LEGO” brand named stamped across the cover, but Will's desire to get the book was way too intense to veto. It’s a good reminder to me that my idea of a quality book doesn’t necessarily matter all that much. Will studied this book many times independently and he asked about words as we read so that by the end of the story he had learned about chasms and lances -- and shudders and gulps – and found great satisfaction in reading the book repeatedly with Rob and me.

So I let Will pick a few things that tempt him when we go to the library. But he tends to want every book he touches – even though he doesn’t necessarily enjoy them all that much once we’re home. So I try to do a good bit of the book-finding myself. Now that I’ve exhausted the Caldecott shelf at the library, I’m starting to keep a library list – this is my equivalent of a shopping list for the library. As I hear about books I’d like to read with Will, or find recommendations in an article or on a blog, I’ll jot them down, and look up the titles on the library’s online catalog to see what’s available there before we go. Then while Will browses through books, I can go straight to a few titles I think we’re likely to enjoy.

On a recent trip, I picked up five titles recommended in an article entitled “The Unheralded Classics” in the March issue of Cookie Magazine – which featured “The 33 Best Children’s Books You’re Probably Not Reading Yet.”

Here are two (billed as books for 4- to 6-year-olds) that we especially loved:

"The Gruffalo" by Julia Donaldson Will thinks this story of a clever mouse and his invented Gruffalo (that just happens to be real) is really funny. We’ve read it again and again.

"Amos and Boris" by William Steig I love this story of life-saving friendship between a whale and a mouse – and Will does too.

How do you choose books at the library? Any recent favorites for my library list?

Boys' trip

This weekend Rob and Will and Papa (Rob’s dad) went camping at FDR State Park. I love to camp, but this time I was glad to hold down the home fort, spend some quality time with just Owen (and some quality time with just myself when Owen was napping). We’re all thinking of making this boy’s trip an annual tradition. And I’ll get my camping fix in the fall.

I asked Will to describe the highlights of the trip for the blog. These are the moments he chose.

1) “That tree that was blocking the bridge.” (Will and Papa took a tiny hike and came to a bridge obstructed by a fallen tree. Will remains fascinated by the scene.)

2) “Burning up the fire” (this would be the campfire, into which Will enjoyed throwing sticks and over which they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. And as you can see, Will can get pretty excited about a marshmallow.).
3) “When Daddy jumped to get wood for the fire.” (Rob jumped up so that he could pull a dead branch off a tree since fire wood pickings were slim. Will loves to jump as high as he can -- and to see his dad jumping high, and grabbing trees no less, was especially thrilling).

What about going fishing, I asked? (They’d rented a little boat at Callaway for some fishing – and did some shore fishing at the lake near their campsite too.)

4) “Yeah. Casting off. I was very good at that.” (And a good thing. Because Will was very bad at casting the line out when he first practiced in our front yard with his new kid’s fishing pole Saturday morning. He kept sending the line and hook straight behind him. Rob, Papa, Owen and I were all ducking, dodging and praying.

Footnote: Will didn’t even mention catching this fish as a trip highlight – perhaps because by the time they reeled the fish into the boat, Will was a little frightened of the thrashing fish-out-of-water. They were just fishing for sport, though, so the slightly tortured fish was soon back at home in the lake.

Return of the imaginary troublemaker

This week Will’s been pulling his ancient “Ally did it!” trick out of the bag. It was way back in November when I last recorded Will’s habit of blaming his imaginary friend Ally for evil deeds. Ally shaped up for a long while, but apparently his mischievous instincts have returned.

Yesterday I caught Will in the act of spitting on the top of Owen’s head, while Owen sat playing with blocks, oblivious to Will’s antics. I could see the light of intrigue in Will’s eyes, and I’m pretty sure I could read his thoughts: “I wonder if I can make this spit land right there in the middle of Owen’s head. I wonder how Owen will react? Bulls eye!”

I instinctively admonished Will immediately -- I don't remember my words but I was letting Will know how inapprorpriate it is to spit on another person and asking him how he'd feel if another person spit on him. And Will, knowing full well that I’d seen him, shouted in protest, “I didn’t do it! Ally spit on Owen.”

He’d pulled the same stunt on Rob, just a couple days before, then got more insistent about Ally being the culprit when Rob said: “Will, I saw you do it.” (I can’t even remember what the transgression was that time but Will got all worked up, protesting his innocence, shouting that Ally had done it and on and on.)

So this time -- since I was fresh off a new chapter in the “Ten Greatest Gifts” book, currently in a section where Steven Vannoy talks about guiding kids through questions not admonishments -- I decided to change course and play along with Will.

“How do you think we can help Ally learn that it’s not okay to spit on Owen?” I asked him.

Will thought about it and decided we should tell him together. First, though, Ally had to go the bathroom, then Ally had to wash his hands. And then, when Will decided Ally was ready, we went over to a little patch of thin air together and told “Ally” that it’s important to be kind to Owen and that we don’t spit on people in our family.

Will did most of the talking. “Spitting is yucky,” he told Ally.

And we’ll see how it goes from here on out, but as of yet neither Ally nor Will has spat upon the nearly hairless head of Owen again.

No more pins

Finally, after three and three-quarter years, I have arrived at a good cloth diapering system that’s fairly easy and affordable. On a tip from a wise comment-leaver (thanks Rachelle, wherever you are), I bought a few Bummis Super Whisper Wrap cloth diaper covers. This was right when I was about to abandon cloth because I was afraid of sticking diaper pins in Owen, who remains as squirmy and flippity-floppity as ever during diaper changes. Now I can use my standard Chinese pre-folds with these Velcro covers that can be reused multiple times before washing (and then washed with the cloth diapers). Just fold the diaper up, slip it into a little pocket on the front of the diaper cover and wrap the boy up in it. Now that he’s mobile it’s actually almost easier to get on him than the disposables for me. Four or five diaper covers is plenty for my stock of two dozen cloth diapers. I do diaper laundry (actually a very simple affair) every five days or so, use disposables at nighttime and occasionally for outings and wonder why I ever bothered with pins.

I bought a size too big so Owen could continue wearing the diaper covers for a good long while, so his 10-month-old waist is now bulked up enough for 18-month pants, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

(Rob and I had tried some of the deluxe all-in-one pocket diapers -- Fuzzi Bunz was the brand – after a friend passed on the couple of pairs that hadn’t disappeared when she moved to a new house. At first they seemed miraculous. “Man, we’ve been living in the dark ages,” Rob said when he first snapped one of the fleece-lined fuzzi-buns on Owen. But since the covers and inserts work as a package and can only be used once, you’d either have to spend a small fortune buying plenty of the things (they cost around $18 a pop on websites I checked) or do laundry every other day and perhaps cancel out some of the environmental benefits of using cloth. I'll admit, though, that the fleece interior and the tight-fit make them look like a luxury diaper next to Owen's current get-up -- and they'd be a better nighttime option. So if you're just investing in cloth diapers and imagine you'll be using them with at least a couple kids, they might well be worth the investment.)

But if you know of anyone wondering how to go cloth on a budget, the whisper wraps make for a nice compromise (especially for older babies who aren’t having poop explosions several times a day). If you want to know how I clean the things or other logistics, just ask and I’ll share all the dirty details.

(You can buy Bummis Super Whisper Wrap covers here and shipping’s free – I sound like a commercial, but I've got no ties to the company. For Chinese pre-fold diapers, try searching e-bay – that way you can save money and buy recycled. The things never wear out.)

A few of our favorite things

After reading my Mother’s Day column in Sunday’s Ledger-Enquirer, one of the teachers at Will’s school gave me a book that I’ve been enjoying so far: “The 10 Greatest Gifts I Give My Children: Parenting from the Heart.” The author, Steven Vannoy, talks about the importance of maintaining “forward focus” with kids – always thinking about what’s going right for them rather than constantly nagging them and pointing out what they’re doing wrong or what they shouldn’t be doing. Of course, it’s not exactly a revolutionary idea to ask “What’s the best thing that happened to you today,” as Vannoy suggests, but since I’d just read the suggestion I decided I’d try it on Rob and Will at dinner tonight.

“What was the best thing about your day?” I asked Rob first.

He looked at me quizzically, then told about his most memorable moment of the day when he stepped on a fire ant hill out in the woods on Fort Benning and had to strip down to his boxers as he tried to swat more than a dozen biting ants off off himself. That was the best thing that happened to you? I asked. “It’s all a matter of perspective,” he said half-wisely, half-facetiously. He added later: “It was the part of the day that I felt most alive.” And it did make for a good story. (Although he didn’t really want me to share it. When he learned it was going on the blog he pointed out that this was the first time he’d fallen victim to fire ants. “I kind of pride myself on keeping out of ant hills. You’re going to make me look like a woods doofus.”)

Then it was Will’s turn. “I have five things,” he said. And he proceeded to list all of the VERY recent activities he’d enjoyed: snapping beans with me for our dinner, picking herbs with Daddy for our dinner, stirring the sautéing chicken for dinner, scrubbing the kitchen floors with me during Owen’s nap. “Playing by myself” even made the list. And then he reached back to a highlight from his morning from school. “And my last thing is…” and, here I have to paraphrase but it was a lot of information about plotting with his friend Creight to have Creight come for a sleepover at our house. “He can have one of my vitamins in the morning,” Will said. “I don’t mind.” And he told us: “Creight said he could stay without his mommy and daddy.” (Will’s initial plan for the sleepover, which he’d mentioned to me last night, involved having Creight come sleep in his bed and letting Mark and Ginny, Creights’ parents, sleep with Rob and I in our bedroom. I’d pointed out that we’d probably be a little overcrowded if we tried to do that.)

One of my highlights for the day, which I recounted for the family, was watching just how totally amused Owen was after he peed on me and himself during a diaper change. He laughed like he’d played a wonderful trick on me, and it was such a charming laugh that I actually started to believe that indeed it had been wonderful to get peed on.

So I’m not so sure Rob and I were very good at modeling “highlights” of the days – with our stories of being bitten by fire ants and getting peed on, but it all made for interesting dinner conversation – and at the risk of getting formulaic, I’d like to make favorite things about our day a common dinnertime topic from now on.

Plant a garden, save the world

Ever since Will’s birth I’ve been a wanna-be gardener. Even back when I was writing about other people’s stunning gardens every week for the Ledger-Enquirer, I never found much time to stop writing and mothering and actually garden myself. So Rob’s become the green-thumbed master of the outdoor landscape while I wind up catching up on laundry and dishes and cooking and other interior domestic chores, including attending to crawling Owen who would love to swallow grass and acorns and pollen cones if we all tried to garden outside.

But I WANT to be in the garden. So last week I was telling Will about my plan to become a big gardener next year and to finally start gardening together as a family (this year Will and Rob did the honors in our tiny vegetable garden – which we shifted from the center of our lawn to some border plantings along the fence after the original garden became our cat's giant litter box). But next year surely toddling Owen will be a little less likely to inhale every chokable object in sight while I’m distracted with seeds and soil and such.

And the same day after I'd announced my mid-year resolution to Will, I read -- thanks to links in the blogs of my cousin April and the always inspiring Soule Mama -- this article by Michael Pollan (author of The Botany of Desire and Omnivore’s Dilemma) and I got exponentially inspired to have a big vegetable garden in the not-too-distant future. Now I think that next year’s vegetable garden is going to be a much more ambitious whole-family project.

If you’ve been looking for a little nudge toward planting a vegetable garden (which is surely a great activity to involve the kids in) here it is. If you’re already a gardener, you’ll just be all the more inspired. Pollan starts by posing the question “Why bother” trying to play a personal role in solving a problem as humungous and daunting as global climate change – and then he comes back with a powerful answer that’s too multi-faceted for a quick synopsis – but it does center on growing your own food in a backyard garden as a key step individuals can take.

Here are a few out-of-context quotes to whet your appetite for the whole article:

“…the climate-change crisis is at its very bottom a crisis of lifestyle — of character, even. The Big Problem is nothing more or less than the sum total of countless little everyday choices, most of them made by us (consumer spending represents 70 percent of our economy), and most of the rest of them made in the name of our needs and desires and preferences.”

“Planting a garden sounds pretty benign, I know, but in fact it’s one of the most powerful things an individual can do — to reduce your carbon footprint, sure, but more important, to reduce your sense of dependence and dividedness: to change the cheap-energy mind.”

“...If you do bother, you will set an example for other people. If enough other people bother, each one influencing yet another in a chain reaction of behavioral change, markets for all manner of green products and alternative technologies will prosper and expand. (Just look at the market for hybrid cars.) Consciousness will be raised, perhaps even changed: new moral imperatives and new taboos might take root in the culture. Driving an S.U.V. or eating a 24-ounce steak or illuminating your McMansion like an airport runway at night might come to be regarded as outrages to human conscience. Not having things might become cooler than having them. And those who did change the way they live would acquire the moral standing to demand changes in behavior from others — from other people, other corporations, even other countries. All of this could, theoretically, happen. What I’m describing (imagining would probably be more accurate) is a process of viral social change, and change of this kind, which is nonlinear, is never something anyone can plan or predict or count on.”

So here’s to viral social change. Read Pollan and pass it on (to your friends via e-mail; to your kids outside in the dirt). Happy gardening.