Broccoli Conundrum

When Ella was a little thing, maybe a year or so, she started eating broccoli ground up in the baby food grinder with olive oil, salt and pepper, and parmesan cheese on top.  She would eat bowls of the stuff, even as she stopped eating other vegetables.  Fast forward and she is now almost four and a half, and she still loves broccoli ground up with olive oil, salt and pepper, and parmesan.  To this day, though, she refuses to eat steamed or grilled or roasted broccoli even with the same additions.  Most of the time we just make her a big bowl of her favorite ground broccoli and don't even offer her the big pieces because we want her to eat it and the 'grinded up broccoli' (as she says) is a sure thing.  I am torn between wanting her to start eating the pieces, darn it, mostly because making the ground broccoli and grating the cheese gets to be a real pain, and just being really glad she'll eat such a big serving of something so good for her.  I don't know what to do about this broccoli conundrum with her, but you can bet your last dollar that Dash gets his broccoli in pieces, straight up so as not to create another broccoli monster in our family.

Big! Huge!

Dash continues to be a verbal whiz kid which these days means he repeats pretty much everything we say in two words snippets.  He has also taken to describing everything he sees with his two favorite words, big and huge.

This is cute and sweet when he sees, say, a dump truck.  "Truck!  Big truck!  Huge truck!"

This is cute and slightly gross when he describes his diaper contents. "Turd!  Big turd!  Huge turd!" 

It's downright hysterical when he describes his anatomy.  When given the opportunity, he will grab at his own, um, boy parts and squeal with glee: "Peecee!  Big peecee!  Huge peecee!"

Boring

Sometimes kids have such knack for calling a spade a spade.  This weekend, we were swimming with my parents.  Josh and my dad were throwing Ella up into the air and letting her land on her tummy with a giant thud and a giant splash and then having her swimming between them.  They all thought this was really fun.  I could barely stand to watch it because it just seemed too dangerous (they were throwing her really high, OK?!).  Finally, not being able to take it any longer, I asked Josh to go play with Dash while I let Ella swim between me and my dad.  I told her that the flying fun with daddy was over and she was now stuck with boring old mom.  Her response?  "You aren't OLD, Mommy."

Guess what that must mean I AM?  That's right.  My four-year old just acknowledged that I am in fact rather boring.

The Olympics

This year's summer Olympics has proven to be very fun to experience on many levels with Ella.  First there was the fun in explaining to her that they only happen every 4 years so we got to count by 4s as we figured out how old she'll be at the next several Olympics.  Every few days, she says to me "Will I really be EIGHT when the Olympics come again?"  I think the idea of being as old as 8 kind of blows her mind.

Then there was the fun of watching the Opening Ceremonies together.  We promised Ella she could stay up to watch the parade not really realizing that it would be hours into the whole extravaganza before the parade of athletes started.  But she waited patiently with her globe to look up all the countries as the athletes marched in.   Once they started, it was a lot of fun to try to find all the countries on the globe especially the little ones she'd never heard of.  And, bonus, I felt all smug and mom-of-the-year-like for the great educational experience I was giving her even if it was 3 hours past her bedtime. 

Ella, globe, and the aptly named Kenya Lily Te

(don't ask, I still don't get her naming choices either)

We've had fun watching the competitions in the evening and the recaps over breakfast.  Ella says her favorite sports are the swimming and the gymnastics.  I haven't managed to catch the nutso synchronized swimming yet with her but I think she'd dig that.  She also likes soccer and quite enjoyed the US Women's big win over Canada. 

We turned on the games one night to see the Italian women playing volleyball and when I told her it was the Italian team, she said "Oh, goody, I hope T is playing!"  T is our friend who just spent the last year studying in Italy.  She is talented in many many ways but I am pretty sure she is not an Olympic athlete except in Ella's eyes.

Today I told Ella that the Olympics will be over soon and she said she was very sad about not watching them again for four more years.  "When I'm 8, right, mommy?" It's hard for me to believe, too.

Pool woes with an update

An unfinished and unpublished post I started in early June of this year:

I was in the locker room of our pool yesterday and overheard two moms talking about how hard it was to bring their (only) baby to the pool.  I had seen these moms earlier at the Mom-and-Tot swim class.  I remember the Mom-and-Tot class.  It was delightful.  I got in the pool with Ella, we sang songs for a half hour, and we went home.  Sometimes we got a milkshake from the snack hut.  Good memories.

This year, Ella is doing big girl swim lessons which means I have to stay on the pool deck but I'm not actually in the pool with Ella.  Of course now I also have another child who needs some sort of care during these lessons and hanging out on the pool deck is just not going to cut it for entertainment for Dash.  Since we pay an arm and a leg to belong to the full-service JCC in our town, taking advantage of the childcare room seems the ideal choice for Dash during Ella's swim lessons.  I mean, it's an air-conditioned room full of toys for him to play with and a lovely caretaker whose sole job it is is to play with him.  You'd think this would make him happy, but no, in fact, it seems to make him scream.  A lot.  Which in turn makes me want to scream.  A lot.

Update from August:

As usual, I had to suffer through a few weeks of unpleasantness (i.e. Dash screaming through childcare at the pool) to come to a beautiful place.  It's only taken 9 weeks of swimming lessons but we have our routine down and everyone is doing great.  Dash loves childcare now and excitedly asks to see "Liz-buh!" (Elizabeth) whenever I mention the pool.  He likes it so much that I usually leave him in childcare for an additional half hour before Ella's lesson starts so I can spend some time swimming with her.  Ella is swimming like a fish (and by that I mean, she is finally willing to put her face underwater and can doggy paddle at least 3 feet).  Ah, summer happiness.  Josh is always able to see that things will settle down happily while I, on the other hand, am convinced that everyone will be miserable forever.  Remind me of this next summer when we inevitably start the same cycle all over again.

The suitcase

Ella has been wanting her own suitcase for a long time.  She has always liked to help me pack for trips (which is surely a genetic trait since I love to pack and always have).  For months, she asked if she could get her own suitcase and finally Pottery Barn Kids had a big enough sale that I caved and bought her a pink, flowered, kid-size suitcase.  Ever since it arrived, she has asked to pack for trips or grandparent overnights days, sometimes weeks, in advance.  Sometimes when I pull the suitcase out from under her bed to get ready for a trip, I find that she has been packing during her "nap" time.  One day, I found a missing living room couch cushion, a plastic saw, and several pairs of panties in it.  I wish I knew what imaginary trip she was embarking upon with those items! 

Checking in.

Cheap entertainment

Last Friday evening, our living room was seeming especially dirty so Josh got out the vacuum cleaner and our kids leaped onto the couch to watch what is apparently the most exciting activity on earth.  Who knew that adult pushing vacuum cleaner was better than Sesame Street?  They were riveted, especially Dash.  When Josh finished, Dash cried over and over "Mo vac-oom!  Mo vac-ooom!"