Big Dog

The girls and I were playing outside the other day, blowing bubbles (aka fighting over who gets to use the bubble wand) and drawing with sidewalk chalk. Suddenly out of nowhere a huge black dog came bounding into the yard and right up to Uno.

She screamed.

I don't think the dog intended her any harm: He looked happy and jumpy and like he wanted to play, but he was certainly big and he was a strange dog and Uno, though she loves animals in the abstract, is terrified of the tiniest chihuahua in real life.

Her screaming made me a little nervous, too. Dogs can smell fear, they say. And while I ran over to separate her from the dog, I wondered why exactly they say that. Do dogs smell fear and become aggressive when they wouldn't otherwise be? Or is it only mean dogs, already bent on attacking you, who sense they have the upper hand and start chomping on little bodies? And forget the smelling, there was some very loud screaming and wailing and shrieking going on right in the dog's ear. Would that irritate the otherwise friendly animal into attacking my child?

Uno ran up to the back porch and scrambled frantically to get the door open. Strange Big Dog thought that was a great idea, so he leaped up on the porch and tried to nuzzle his way in, too. I grabbed his collar (didn't have time to check his tags -- I'd love to know which neighbor he belongs to, though, grrrr) and pulled him in the opposite direction long enough for Uno to get in and lock the door.

Strange Big Dog then jumped up on me -- he was tall enough to put his front paws on my shoulders (not that I'm so hugely tall, but still; that gives you some idea of how scary he would be to a 4yo) -- so I pushed him back down and told him to shoo.

I think he misheard me.

He grabbed a shoe that Dos had left on the deck and ran around the backyard with it. I chased after him, trying to get it back, but he bounded over to the next door neighbor's yard, where he and our neighbor dog Moose (who was nicely contained on a chain) fought over the shoe for a while. Then another dog joined them, and the two loose dogs jumped down to our backyard neighbor's yard, where their yellow lab, Kronk (also nicely contained), wrestled the shoe out of SBD's mouth. Kronk then dropped it to the ground ... and peed on it.

The two strange dogs tussled around with Kronk a bit more before running back to who knows where and abandoning the now peed-on shoe to our backyard neighbor dog.

Uno watched everything unfold from the kitchen window, still screaming, fearing for our lives even after the dog had left the yard. Dos, meanwhile, stood on the deck, smiling and laughing. She found the shoe thing hilarious and asked if we could go down to Kronk's house and play with all the dogs together. I told her no, and scooted Dos into the house (after convincing Uno it was safe to unlock the door for us).


~RCH~

Among the conversations I never thought I'd have

Let's set the scene: I'm downstairs on the computer, trying to figure out our 2006 taxes, after having already put the girls to bed. And yet. I hear the patter of little feet as Uno runs to the top of the stairs to yell down to me....

Me: Uno, get back to bed.

Uno: But Mom, I can't! Dos won't stop screaming at her chicken and burping!

[I should interject at this point to note that Uno and Dos have been sharing a room for a week or two now. Mostly without incident.]

Me: Ugh. Fine.

I tromp upstairs to give Dos a talking to. She is in her Santa suit -- which she insisted on wearing instead of pajamas -- clutching her toy stuffed chicken with a look of well practiced innocence.

Me: Dos, stop screaming at your chicken and burping. Uno, IGNORE HER.

Uno: But Mom! I keep saying Shhhhh and she doesn't listen to me!

Me: If she does it again, don't say Shhhhh or anything. Just close your eyes and pretend like you're asleep. Dos, I mean it. Cut it out.

Dos: I'm not Dos, I'm Santa Claus.

Me: Santa Claus, cut it out and go to sleep.

I give them kisses and leave, shutting the door behind me.

Dos: BEEEEEEELCH!


~RCH~

WOHCHM

From Uno, for your viewing pleasure:




~RCH~

Dirty, filthy pirates

Last summer I bought a CD called Rogue's Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, and Chanteys, a compilation inspired by the Pirates of the Carribbean movies but consisting of real pirate songs, not songs used in either of the movies. I thought I might give it as a gift to someone. Maybe my mom, as she shares my love of folk and/or obscure music....

Um, I'm glad I didn't.

I found the CD this weekend, having pretty much forgotten about it over the last 6 months or so. I decided, since her birthday was past and I didn't know who else to give it to, I'd just try it out myself. (Actually, if we're being honest, that was probably my secret subconscious plan all along, woo-ooh-ooh-wah-ah-ah!)

I'm happy to say that I really like it! Two thumbs up. Or at least one and a half. The only problem is that some pirates have dirty minds and filthy mouths, making it totally unsuitable for my lovely and innocent mother or for listening to with my girls. But along with tales of, um, overly social port ladies, there are nice ballads and rhythmic rowing songs and sad tales of cruel captains, so it's not at all a waste. In fact, some of the songs would work wonderfully on a lullabye mix tape for my wee scallywag girls.

If you don't mind a little salt with your sea chanteys, or if you do mind but you know how to push the ">>" button on your CD player to advance to the next track, I certainly recommend this little compilation.


~RCH~

The update

Note: I wrote most of this on January 23rd, shortly after Uno's talk, but then I got interrupted by adorable noisy children and forgot to come back to it. So here, for your reading pleasure, is the long-awaited update to my Nervous Nelly post.

She did it! And she did great. All my worry was (as usual) for nought. :-)

Aside from my concern about her introduction of villagers and superheroes into the story of the brother of Jared, her refusal to practice in front of DH (or his friend, who spent much of Saturday with us) made me worry that she'd get up to the microphone and freeze at the sight of all those expectant strangers.

And aside from that, in our rush to get to church on time, I couldn't remember where I'd put the shiny rocks we'd painted for her visual aide. What if they were her proverbial magic feather, without which she'd be lost?

But I should have known better. That child was born for the stage! (And actually, I did find the rocks in my bag full o' church goodies -- quiet books, snacks, and whatnot -- mere seconds before she had to get up to speak.)

I tried to record her using the Voice Memo option on my phone, but the result was lots of static buzz and a barely audible Uno. Still, I'll do my best to transcribe her exact (and totally adorable, mostly doctrinally correct) words:

[Dramatic pause before beginning]

The brother of Jared didn't have any light for his boats. And Jesus came, and the angels prayed.

And the brother of Jared prayed and Jesus helped him and he said, "Hmmmmm. Hmmmmm."

And then Jesus touched them [shows rocks] and the rocks got shiny and bright. And they had light for their boats.

In the name of J--

Oh. The brother of Jared had faith.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

She did it all by herself; DH and I sat in the back to watch her, but she required absolutely no help from us. (The kid after her, a 6- or 7-year-old boy, had his mom up there the whole time, whispering impossibly large words and complicated sentences into his ear about I don't even remember what. It was boring. People don't want to hear adults give Primary talks! The whole point is for kids to practice doing it themselves!) I smiled all through Uno's talk, and all through the rest of church, and all the rest of that day. I felt so proud of her, I very nearly exploded.

DH & I slipped out after that second talk, just as the Primary leader asked for volunteers for the next week's talks. "Watch Uno raise her hand again," DH whispered to me as we tip-toed toward the door. And sure enough, her hand shot straight up as she bounced a bit in her chair. "Let's give someone else a turn," I heard the Primary leader say as I walked down the hall and out of ear shot to my own grownup (and much less charming) class.


~RCH~

I'm a little nervous

Uno is set to give her very first talk in Primary tomorrow. She's been dying to use the microphone, so last week (her first week of Primary, by the way) when they asked for volunteers she rather insistently asked to be the one.

She's going to tell a story from the Book of Mormon, the brother of Jared asking God to touch some stones to give light to their boats. It's supposed to go something like this:

The brother of Jared needed light for his boat, but he didn't know what to do. He prayed to Heavenly Father and said, "Heavenly Father, please help us get light for our boat." Heavenly Father told him to think of an idea and ask again. So he thought about it like this: "Hmmmmmm." And then he had an idea. He prayed again. "Heavenly Father, I know that if you touch these rocks with your finger, they will get bright and shiny and we will have light for our boat." Because he had faith, Heavenly Father touched the rocks with His finger and their boat wasn't dark. We should have faith, too. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Plus she has a visual aide: Two rocks that we spray painted first with chrome and then with a light coat of pearlescent glitter paint.

We've been practicing often these last two days. Sometimes she gets the story more or less right. More often, though, it comes out something like this:

Once upon a time the villagers lived in a cave with dark boats so Jesus came and He liked rocks. And He said, "Hmmmmmm." And Jesus said a prayer about rocks with His finger [holds up visual aide]. Oh, and Jesus-- I mean, the villagers were in their cave with a space ship [makes space ship noise] so they could fight the bad guys. Kapow! Hiya! And all the bad guys drove away in their cars because they were scared about the rocks from Jesus. The end.

She is rambly and random and hilarious and super confident. Which makes me nervous. I would love for her to tell a comprehensible version of the story, because it will be adorable if she does. I don't really mind her telling a rambly version (well maybe I sort of do), because she's a kid and this is her first try. But I worry that -- whatever happens -- people will laugh and her confidence will be shattered. I don't think anyone, even the older kids, would be mean-spirited about it, but still. Some things are simply too cute / silly / odd (take your pick) for polite smiles!

I was an awkward, insecure kid. I'm an insecure mom in a lot of ways. Uno is not like me -- she is social and self-assured and endlessly outgoing. But these qualities of hers have never really been tested. She spends her days with me and her sister; she doesn't go to preschool or dance class or on play dates. Church is her only social outlet, and this will be her first "performance" in that or any other venue. I want her to be well received. I worry that if she's not, it will hurt her, or change those great qualities of hers that are so different from any of mine.

I'm nervous, nervous, nervous. I don't want her to be -- and I hope she doesn't sense that I am -- but geez, I wish this were over already.


~RCH~

My child is a freaking genius

Somehow, somewhere -- not from me, sadly -- my precocious and adorable not-quite-four-year-old daughter has learned to spell. In cleaning up her mess of toys and papers this evening, I found this drawing:



I had no idea she could do that! Is she amazing or is she amazing? :-D


~RCH~