I'll be the Nutella

We were at my parents' house recently and it was time for Ella to go upstairs to read stories before her nap.   Ella picked her grandma (Mimi) to read her books, and her grandpa (Biggie) asked if he could come up and listen to the stories with her.  Ella thought about it for a minute and said "Um yeah. You can lay down on the bed with me. You be the bread and I'll be the nutella."

First World Problems

So many things have been frustrating me lately. 

We have a brand new, fancy schmancy dishwasher and the dishes aren't coming out clean. 

It's so lovely and warm this fall that I'm still wearing sandals everywhere but I'm a little embarrassed by my naked toenails because I haven't had time to get a pedicure since Labor Day. 

Our housecleaners keep leaving the plug protectors on the floor when they unplug their vacuum and I have to stick them back in the wall.  Every. Single. Week.

I've been so busy at work and with my kids and traveling that I haven't had time to go shopping for the new boots that I really want. 

Seriously, these are my problems? 

Once again, the funny ladies at Rants from Mommyland share my pain.  And they named it, too.  I have First World Problems, people. 

It's definitely time for a moment of gratitude for all that I have.  I am extremely grateful for the modern appliances that make my life so easy; for the myriad of people who clean my large and comfortable house, mow my soft green lawn, and trim the ridiculous number of ornamental trees in my lovely front yard.  I am grateful for a job that I enjoy, that lets me challenge myself, travel the world, work with kind and interesting people, and oh yeah, pays the bills and then some.  I am grateful to have been born into a loving, irreverent, and always supportive family.  And for goodness sake, I am insanely grateful for my supportive and hilarious husband and for our beautiful, healthy, happy children asleep in their beds at this moment. 

I am VERY grateful, First World Problems and all.

Armpits of the legs

Ella has reached the age where she wants to do everything, and I mean everything, herself.  Do you know how much extra time this takes for everyday tasks such as brushing her teeth, pouring her milk, and putting on her shoes?  A LOT.

Tonight, she was in the bathtub and I could hear Josh coaxing her along to wash her various body parts, one slow part at a time.  "Now it's time for your arms, your legs, your feet, your neck" and on and on.  At one point I heard him say "Now it's time for your knees.  And the back of your knees."  To which Ella replied, "No!  Those are the armpits of my legs!"  A lengthy discussion ensued in which Josh suggested various other terms for this body part:  kneepits, legpits, and so on.  But Ella seems to be holding strong with "armpits of the legs".  I guess it has a nice ring to it. 

Baby Dora and Baby Beluga

For quite some time now, Ella has taken to calling herself Baby Dora (named, I can only surmise, after Dora the Explorer whose television show is one of Ella's favorites).  If we call her Ella, she will quickly correct us. "No, Mommy, I'm Baby Dora."  This is cute as long as she is not milking the 'baby' part of her new name to avoid doing a task she knows how to do.  Neither Josh nor I has a lot of patience for her refusing to put on her shoes or go to the bathroom because "Baby Dora doesn't know how.  She's just a baby."

Then a month or so ago, she heard the French children's song Alouette and started calling herself Baby Dora Alouette.  This was frequently accompanied by her singing Alouette which is charming in all of the adorable mis-pronounciations of the French words.

Most recently, she has told us that her name is Baby Dora Alouette Bad Guy.  And sometimes Baby Dora Alouette Bad Guy Bad Man Bad Fish.  I blame the boys in her class at school for teaching her about bad guys although, rather adorably, when you ask her what a bad guy does, she tells us that he is someone who throws other people's things in the trash.

Somewhere along the way, she decided that her brother needed an equally good name to go along with Baby Dora so she started calling him Baby Beluga.  There are frequent references to Dash being a little white whale which is actually pretty spot-on.  He is little and he is white.  And he is (kind of) on the go.  Are you singing Raffi to yourself yet?

Tonight I said to Dash, "You are such a sweet boy!" and Ella replied, "No, Mommy, he's such a sweet WHALE!"

Omar, lost in the woods

Based on my recent posting about Ella and the last number, you are probably thinking that Ella is some kind of math genius.  I am here today to tell you that we still have some work to do.

This afternoon we took a walk around the block because the weather was so darn perfect.  The sun was shining and the fall leaves were dancing to the ground in the wind.  As we were walking on the street, I asked Ella to hold my hand and she asked me why.  I explained that I wanted her to be close to me in case any cars came by.  She then explained to me that Omar did not hold her hand when he was on a walk and he got lost. 

Me: Lost where? 
Ella: In the woods!

Me:  How did he get home?
Ella:  Someone else found him and brought him home.

Me:  When did this happen?
Ella:  Um, thirty years ago.

Me:  How old is Omar?
Ella <with a look that says Come-on-Mom-why-do-you-ask-such-ridiculous questions>:  FOUR!

Teaching about giving

I've started thinking about how to teach my children about giving.  On a daily basis, I hope that Josh and I are passing on the message that helping other people is an important part of life.  But as the gift-giving holidays are approaching, I've been trying to come up with more concrete ways to show our kids that giving to others is an important part of the holidays.  Ella has been asking a lot about Santa and what kinds of presents he might bring.  I try to bring the conversation back around to gifts she might like to give to other people in our family but I can tell this is going to be an uphill battle.  And I don't want her to only think about the people in our family but about our larger community and people who might really need things that we take for granted every day.  I know that Ella has no idea how lucky and privileged she is, and that's OK.  She's three, so her world view is not exactly, well, worldly yet.

But how to really show her how to give?  That's a tough one.  Josh and I have taken the easy road in the last few years - we take our holiday bonuses and give a large portion of them to a few charities that we really believe in.  Each of us picks one or two organizations each year and off go the checks.  It takes almost no time and almost no effort and it makes us feel like we've done something good.  I hope we'll always be in a position to give to worthy causes but somehow writing a check doesn't seem like a lesson that will mean much to our three-year old. 

So lately I've been feeling like we could do more to actually show our children some helping activities in action. You know, that whole 'kids learn by watching their parents thing'. The reality is, of course, that we are painfully busy with our everyday activities and I haven't yet come up with a good volunteer opportunity that Ella could actually witness.

One thing that I love about Ella's preschool is that one of their core principles is Tzedekah (the practice of justice and charity) and they actually act on this concept quite a lot.  This week the children are bringing in cans of food for a Thanksgiving canned food drive in conjunction with the synagogue where the school is located.  They line them up in the hallway and make a huge number line to count all the cans as they come in.  It's a good numbers exercise, at least, and maybe it's starting to plant the right seeds.

What are some good ways to teach a young child about giving back?  I'd like to know what other parents with small children do to start instilling this important value.

[An addendum.... one of my favorite irreverent parenting sites had a relevant post about this topic that made me laugh: Lydia's Plan for the Holidays]

Mama, is a hundred the last number?

This past weekend, I took Ella on a trip to Philadelphia to visit my dear friend Kate and her two-year old son.  I'll write about that adventure soon because it really was just that, quite an adventure.

But a quick story now that happened while we were in Philadelphia.  Ella and I were both sleeping in a double bed in the guest room (a topic for yet another post) and when I opened my eyes on Saturday morning, there was Ella's smiling face, not six inches away from my own face.  Her first words were not of the "I love you, Mama, and <in my fantasy> can we go back to sleep for another two hours?"  but rather "can I have candy corn for breakfast?"  After a quick explanation that pure sugar is not considered an acceptable growing food, she then, in her very Ella way, looked at me and asked very seriously "Mama, is a hundred the last number"?  

Quite the question for a dark, cold, early morning.

I mumbled something about a million, billion, trillion, and then infinity.  And then I suggested we go downstairs and make some cinnamon toast.