Interview with a newly 6 year old (whose interests are emphatically STINGRAY)

Harper, at what age is a person a grown up?

"40. Cuz you are 40. (I remind her that Daddy is not yet 40) Well, like, you can be any age, like...TWENTY! You should be 20."

If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do?

(whispering) "Sneak up on people!"

What is something that makes our family special?

"ME. (me: Anything else?)Sasha."

Are you a good friend? (nods) Why do you think so?

"Because I'm nice to everyone."

How would the world be different if animals could talk?

"Because um,it would be a very, it would be, because they could talk! (me: Do you think it would be better?) "YES!! MUCH, MUCH, MUCH, MUCH, MUCH BETTER!"

What is the best thing about being a kid?

"Playing."

The worst thing?

"Having to do chores. That's the WORST."

Where is your favorite place in the world?

"The zoo and KEMAH. Because there is an octopus at the zoo and there are stingrays at the KEMAH."

If you could give one gift to every child in the world, what would it be?

"Well, I would give them their favorite animal presents. I would ask them and have lots and lots of presents of every animal in the whole world and I would ask them and give them that."

What are five words that describe you?

"Describe me? I don't know what you're talking about. (me: Well, for example, I would say that you are energetic. That's an adjective I might use to describe you.) Okay. Funny, friendly, and nice to animals. And I like going anywhere and I'm happy with going anywhere and I make lots of friends."

If you could invent something, what would it be? (discussion about what 'invent' actually means)

"Um, a stingray park and an octopus park. An underwater one. With lots of shrimp and a maze and lots of slides and ladders. And crabs. Shrimp and crabs at the end."

If you could make one rule that everyone in the world had to follow, what would it be?

"Be nice to animals."

What's your favorite color? "Pink."

What's your favorite smell?

"I like flowers, and STINGRAYS! (me: oh! what do stingrays smell like?) Stingrays smell kind of like RUBBER."

Favorite food?

"Um, My favorite dinner food is macaroni and cheese, my favorite lunch food is tortilla, my favorite breakfast food is oatmeal muffins."

What is your favorite book?

"Over in the Ocean."

Your favorite activity?

"Go to Kemah!"

Your favorite sound?

"Stingrays splashing."

What does Daddy like to do?

"Go fast in his car."

What does Mommy like to do?

"Take care of Helena."

What makes you special?

"Because I'm the biggest and I'm Daddy's girl and your girl."

What do you most want to do?

"When I grow up or when I'm a kid? (me: either one.) When I grow up I want to have a horse and an octopus and a stingray. (me: What about right now?) Go to Kemah and play with my new stuff."

What would you like to write a book about?

"My favorite things: horses and octopi and maybe something about how when I'm grown up I'm going to invent a stingray park and an octopus park and for them at Kemah and I'll make one at the zoo in the octopus habitat for the octopus."

What is your favorite thing to wear?

"My favorite thing to wear is dresses, because they are pretty AND I don't have to wear shorts a lot of the time."

Describe what you look like.

"I have curly hair. I'm tall. (me: what color are your eyes?) Tan? (me: they are kind of tannish-green. Hazel) But I don't like green. (her little stuffed octopus pipes in, "I'm brown!")

What are you looking forward to this year?

"Going to Dewberry Farm. And Oil Ranch. To ride horses."

What is your favorite song?

"Over in the Ocean." (me: Can you sing a little of it?) "Over in the ocean far away from the sun, lived a mother octopus and her octopus one. (at this point her new little plush octopus, who she has named Coconut, took over the singing in his very high pitched voice) Squirt, said the mother, I squirt, said the one. So, they squirted in the ocean far away from the sun. Over in the ocean on the sandy sea floor lived an old mother stingray and her little stingrays four. Stir! said the mother, We stir! said the four, so they swam and they stirred on the sandy sea floor.

The end.

Did you know you can use the foam pieces from your handwriting curriculum to make stingrays on the couch? Well, you can:

The big little is 6 today.

Guess what happened on this very day 6 years ago?

I became a mother. To one Harper Anne Hinze. Here she is:

Here we are, the six year mother with her six year old GIRL:

She chose to go to the Kemah boardwalk to pet her beloved stingrays. So, that's what we did:

With the Grandparents Pate, who were exceedingly generous, flexible, and all around delightful, as usual:

They treated us to lunch, then we partook of these cookies, which I realize are so homely that I'm expecting a phone call any moment from one of those cooking shows where people compete to see who can fashion the most awkward pastries ever:

I taped a little interview with the birthday girl which I plan to transcribe and post at some point in the near future when I don't have to sit at the Starbucks across from Central Mall (where I currently sit, enjoying free wifi,a decaf beverage and some not homely pastries)to do so. I also need to get home and make sure all of the six small stuffed sea animals (yes, ANOTHER stuffed stingray has joined our family, along with 2 stuffed fish, a dolphin, a sea turtle, and an octopus) that came attached to the stuffed coral reef she got from the grandparents have all settled down and finally gone to sleep. Sea animals can be very noisy at bedtime, even when they've had a full day of birthday.

We love you deep and wide, baby girl. Slow down a little, will you?

Upon examination

Among other disturbances, there will be a point to Wednesday's post this week. Because Harper is turning SIX on that very day. We aren't having a party this year, just a special day with family. Though she and Hudson decided we still need to have treat bags (nope) and they brainstormed at breakfast yesterday what should go in them. Daddy's will have LOTS of COFFEE, they decided. Mommy's will have a JUG of WINE. This is funny on many levels, but let me please assure you, gentle readers, that while I do on occasion partake of a glass of wine, I do not, and have not EVER, imbibed from a jug.

I myself have been disturbed (and all of Jerusalem with me, like Herod) and I need to snap out of it. This morning was horrific. Truth be told, I might have considered opening my very heavy treat bag and sneaking a nip from the Jug.

We went to the music store Saturday morning and Hudson showed off a little on a big drum set. The husband seems to think it's time for an upgrade. I think we need a new refrigerator instead. Harper didn't mind everyone making a big deal out of Hudson, but then she decided she wanted to go try out some guitars. She scored herself a pink ukulele by picking the strings to find "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" on the first try. Did you know there are ukuleles that cost upwards of $2,000?? We did not buy one of those. She would have had to play that really hard Rachmaninoff piano concerto on the four strings to earn that one.

My mom has been having me clean out my childhood closet one plastic bin at a time each time we go for a visit. Last time we picked up the pace and there were five plastic bins that needed attention. One of them was a huge black foot locker that I took when I moved to Hungary and it was full to the brim with letters. Letters written to me back when people wrote letters. That is a LOAD of letters. I was tempted to dump the whole thing. Then I read one, then hours later I had read many. And I had cried and laughed and marveled at my sweet friends and family who wrote to me. And marveled at all of the things (and even a few people) I had forgotten. I decided to keep most of them, of course. Figuring the days of old and gray and nodding by the fire may be enhanced be these memories. I also found my old journals and I was tempted to toss those too. Because, it turns out, and I'm going to contradict Socrates for a minute here, an unexamined life might actually be better at certain times. I had MANY (and it pains me) YEARS (pain) of my life where I spent far too much time introspecting and writing about my FEELINGS (mostly sad, misunderstood, adrift--with no real cause, mind you) when I should have been, in hindsight, taking a brisk walk. Or serving the needy. Or reading a decent book. Or studying the Bible more seriously. Perhaps making a salad. Anything but whining about how SAD I felt about not being able to DO ANYTHING about ANYTHING. It is actually mortifying to remember some of the events I recounted in excruciating detail. I had this very visceral reaction as I read, as though these things happened to someone I don't know. Snap out of it! I wanted to yell at this sniveling little ingrate who had not one thing to be melancholy about. I stopped reading at some point. But I put them back in the plastic bin and not in one of the many huge garbage bag. Maybe for someday. I did find a real delight in just the basic details of ordinary days. More Proust, then, and less Plath. There, it's decided.

A few books the kids have delighted in this week:

1. Max's Words by Kate Banks and Boris Kulikov: Max has two big brothers who collect stamps and coins. They do not share. Max decides to collect words, which he uses to make stories, which he uses to entice his big brothers to finally share their stamps and coins. The illustrations are ingenious.

2. It's Quacking Time by Martin Waddell, ill. Jill Barton:
A curious duckling finds out he's getting a new brother or sister duckling, and is amazed to hear he himself also came from an egg. Adorable illustrations. A good companion for Pig's Egg by Katherine Sully and Sam Chaffey

3. Ms. Turtle the Babysitter by Valeri Gorbachev (I keep meaning to google him to see if he has a famous family)
Three little frogs want their babysitter to learn to jump. She promises to learn, and she does! Sweet illustrations.

4. little blue and little yellow by Leo Lionni

I think this is the first book he wrote. Very simple illustrations (like torn pieces of construction paper) portray little blue and little yellow who hug and, much to their surprise! become green! We got a Leo Lionni treasury a couple of months ago and a there's something odd about most of his stories. But in a good way, I think. Harper especially likes them. In fact, she told me she wants a stuffed little blue and little yellow for her birthday, even though I told her they would not make green if they hugged because there is no such thing as soft fabric that has the quality of translucence (is that even the right word?). She claims not to care. Does that mean I need to return to Hobby Lobby again tomorrow (I went today to retrieve 'tan' food coloring to make the stingrays she wants on her birthday cookies.) and figure out some way to devise little blue and little yellow??

5. Along with the Mr. Putter and Tabby series, which she continues to enjoy, Harper likes a series about Cowgirl Kate and her horse Cocoa (written by Erica Silverman, ill. Betsy Lewin), and another about a muskrat named Cork and a possum named Fuzz (by Dori Chaconas, ill. Lisa McCue).

Know what Helena likes? Getting into everything at very inopportune moments. She wiped her bottom with a Clorox wipe while I was trying to get something out of the oven tonight. Thankfully, she was wearing a diaper at the time. She also is slightly obsessed with the pink ukulele. And she manages to get the frets messed up (and thus the tuning goes off) with very little effort. You can imagine how this displeases the big sister, who prefers her life perfectly tuned. Can't imagine where she got that particular trait.

What's your point? Wednesday

I am working on the second installment of my Thoughts on Homeschooling but it has an actual point, so I guess I'll post it another day.

Hudson still really loves the drumming. I have some pretty impressive video of the husband showing him some fairly complicated rudiments and Hudson gets them the first time. He also enjoys drumming while singing and his lyrics are still a little difficult to decipher, but yesterday I jotted down some snippets:

An original composition
by Hudson

And God is Santa
Um la la um la
I will celebrate
Because I don't know why
Ah ah ah OHHHHHH
Basketball
He says
Uh huh ah ah OH.

I feel like if we had Anna Maria Mozart's journals, we'd find something similar jotted down therein.

Speaking of Mozart, the other morning we came in from outside and I was feeling grumpy and wondering why I am not better at getting stuff done and keeping everyone from bickering with everyone else and I was comparing myself to other people who just seem to do it all better, and the radio was on the classical station and it was something lovely that I didn't recognize but I thought it might be Mozart. Only when it was over the announcer came on and said it was something by Antonio Salieri, who is the composer who basically went crazy comparing himself to Mozart and never measuring up. Funny, huh?

Helena has begun some naughtiness. She partakes of the naughtiness (pushing buttons she ought not, pushing small babies she ought not..) then she says, "Laida Jane in trouble. Call Daddy?" smiling the entire time. If it is the Daddy who is doing the direct admonishing, she nods her head over and over and has very big eyes and, sometimes, a down-turned mouth. Last week, a tiny little fellow, newly walking, toddled into her path and stared at her, entranced, when we were on our way out of the Children's Museum. She was in the stroller and she gazed at his sweet little face, while his parents cooed just behind him. She then lifted up her Crocs-encased feet, placed them firmly on his teeny little chest, and pushed with all her might, like she was doing a thigh press at the gym. It was very touching. I apologized profusely and told the parents they might want to try the Tot Spot, because hopefully he would fare better amongst the other wee people. Plus shoes aren't allowed.

Harper and I have taken a hiatus from the Little House books. I remembered that the next one in the series, By the Shores of Silver Lake, is the one in which Jack the dog dies. It's also when Mary goes blind AND, Mrs. S reminded me at the park today, there is a MURDER. So, I'm not sure how long it will be before I am emotionally ready to deal with all of that, but it's going to be awhile. We have instead retreated to the world of animals who act like people only without the dying and the blindness and the MURDER. We started Wind in the Willows a few days ago. We're also going back through Beatrix Potter now that attention spans are much longer. I think we'll read the Pooh books in their entirety next. We've read them in bits and pieces, but never all at once. Do you know what never happens in the Hundred Acre Wood? Murder, that's what. I can manage to read aloud about a balloon getting accidentally popped by a small pig and not get emotional one bit.

Speaking of getting emotional, I am. Emotional. I admit it. I have tried to deny it, vehemently at times, but I do cry, and frequently, and sometimes over not much at all. The latest example was Sunday afternoon. We went to an Astros game after church and I was on my way to find some delicious ballpark fare for my lunch (everyone else had a sensible lunch at home before we left). I realized the National Anthem was about to be sung so I stopped in my food quest and looked down at the singers. It was a group of young sisters (there were 5 of them, I think) and the harmonies were sublime and I always cry when I hear the National Anthem anyway(I didn't used to--I think living in a former Soviet bloc country for two years is what did it) even if it's poorly sung, so this beauty just did me right in. I'm standing there wiping my crumpled face and I'm sure the people around me were wondering what in the world is wrong with the crying lady. Then I quickly recovered after the "brave" floated up and away (a note which was held exceptionally well by the littlest sister) and went on to eat my hamburger with french fries and a vanilla shake made with real Blue Bell ice cream. The novelty of the game wore off fairly quickly and we left at the top of the 6th.

Harper and Hudson had a wedding in the backyard on Monday. She wore her tap costume and just before the processional Hudson said, "Wait! I need some chapstick!" so he ran in and got some and came back, all ready to wed.

That is the end.

Miss Bojangles

Just now I was checking the expiration date on some Pace picante sauce I had in the refrigerator and I couldn't remember what year it is. Is is 2010? No, I think it is 2011. I had to look at the calendar to confirm. Also, at the park the other day, I was trying to explain classical education to another mom and I said "triumvirate" instead of "trivium". So. clearly Caesar, Antony, and Pompey was it? are going to be key in educating my kids. In other news not at all related to my encroaching dementia, Harper had her dance recital on Friday. She was greatly dismayed when she heard the very sad news a month or so ago that Miss Gwen intended that Harper's class was going to be tapping in the big recital. As much as I thought Harper would love the tap portion of her tap/ballet combo class (because tapping is so very very noisy) she has only tolerated it and has, instead, loved ballet. So she had, all year, looked forward to dazzling what was sure to be a very large audience with her plies and jetes and swan-like grace. Anyway, she managed to recover from this Deep Disappointment and performed with enthusiasm.

Before:


During:



And after:


Hudson says, "Say Hopper is bootiful or ELSE!"

Harper and the girls had quite a bit of time to wait before it was their turn to perform (they were LAST) and one of the conversations they had between practicing their shuffles and telling each other how they didn't recognize one another all gussied up and then, busily coloring, was What Are You Going To Be When You Grow Up? Anna said she was going to be a mommy who stayed at home while her husband made money and Harper piped up, "Not ME! I am NOT going to be a mommy because it is TOO MUCH WORK!" a sentiment she has expressed to me on more than one occasion, the last one being while I was in the middle of changing a diaper of the worst kind. I know I should not let this bother me, but I think it is a good reminder to mother with more joy and less audible sighing and general annoyance. Though I don't think I particularly longed to be a mommy at her age either. She also this week, when asked by the husband WHO had taught her to read so well, said, "I just taught myself!" Nice. After ALL of my HARD WORK (sigh, grumble).

What's your point? Wednesday

On a TUESDAY, mind you. I think we'll go numerically, with no attempts at segues.

1. A couple of nights ago, Helena was patting me on my leg and she said, "Mommy! Sand on leg!" Only I wasn't actually sandy. Just a little remiss with the shaving.

2. A few days ago after enjoying some time in the hammock (a phrase which, I realize, means that any tale of woe that follows, even if it is something like, "I stepped out directly upon a rusty machete that severed my small toe and gave me a raging case of gangrene and also ringworm," will be greeted with a snort, and a "Poor YOU. You know when I get out of MY hammock--oh, WAIT, I don't HAVE a hammock PLUS I WORK for a LIVING.") I was ducking under the tree under which I had pulled the hammock for some shade, and I wacked my face into the metal hammock stand really SUPER hard and knocked myself to the ground. It really did hurt, plus I felt very silly. But then that night I decided to brave the Very Dangerous Hammock Dismount yet again and went out for some star gazing after everyone was in bed. I came in a little later and found Harper on her way back from a bathroom trip, and even though it was way past time for her to be asleep, I took her back outside with me and we snuggled there in the hammock together and looked at the stars and counted them. I don't do things like that often enough and I'd like that to change. Because she will be six in a few weeks and then she will be 16 a few weeks later and then what will I do? What will I DO??

3. Today we were in Kidtropolis at the Children's Museum and there were a few school groups there and this group of 2nd grade boys, when they saw the police station, which has a real police car in it, began darting around and shouting, "The cops are here!" and their tone was not like, "Goody! The cops are here! I want to be a police man some day so I can help mankind by enforcing the laws our society has put in place to lead us all into right behavior!" Nope, it sounded like, "The cops are here!! Somebody flush the drugs and hide the firearms with the scratched off serial numbers!" Why would a second grader already be wired that way? Let's blame television and hope it wasn't from first hand experience, shall we?

4. Tonight I had Harper use the nail brush on her toenails and told her she didn't want to have "hermit toes" because that is what I call toenails that need a little more attention than we usually give them. So she said, "What IS a hermit?" and I said, "It's a person who decides they would rather be by themselves than be around people so they live maybe out in the forest all by themselves so that it's always very quiet." Hudson asked, with a little apprehension in his voice, "Mommies with kids?" and as much as I wanted to say, "YES. EXACTLY." I refrained and said that No, mommies with kids don't usually indulge in hermit-like behavior.

5. Speaking of voices (drat, a segue) Helena has officially developed her "animal voice." All three kids got one pretty early. It's at least 2 octaves above their normal speaking voices and is used when their stuffed animals (or sometimes cars and action figures, and also, on occasion, snacks) talk to me or each other. This morning her puppy greeted me, "Hi Mommy! Hug?" and it was very cute, and then Elmo was trying to tell me something that I didn't quite get because it was so very high pitched.

6. The kids and I were at my parents' a week or so ago and my dad got my mom's (35 year old?) bike out of the storage shed, and Harper, Hudson and I took a few bike rides together. Then each night while my mom got the kids in bed, I'd go out again and ride. I rode all over Port Neches, and I decided riding on an old bike (with a nice wide seat) at dusk is one of life's great pleasures. I'm thinking about wanting a bike of my very own now. With a nice wide seat. That I will ride at dusk.

Let's end with some pictures of cousins enjoying the carnival at the Port Neches Riverfest:

ob-la-di, ob-la-da

I asked the husband to add a few Beatles songs to the ipod, and we were listening to "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da" one day last week and Hudson said, "This is Spanish!" He also can't wait to tell our friend Jude that there is a song about him. So, act surprised Jude.

Our dear, dear B's are currently driving north on I-45 following their moving truck to Dallas. I did a little math on my handy calculator (or "count-you-later" as Hudson pronounces it) and figured out that we've been playing with them at least once a week since Harper was one, which means approximately 260 play dates, give or take a month here and there to accommodate the 4 babies born along the way. That's quite an investment. So, ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, but a diminished life it will be. Here are some pictures of the crew, along with some other sweet friends who've joined us along the way:


I caught up on some recorded television the other night, including Steve Carrell's last two episodes of "The Office." I may have cried like a baby when they all sang that song from "Rent" and also when Michael went around secretly saying his good-byes, and my weeping may have a little something to do with the preceding paragraph. The husband and I started watching "The Office" on dvd when Hudson was tiny. We'd sit on the couch and watch several episodes at a time on his laptop screen, while we made sure the Hudson bear was good and asleep in his "room" (which was actually our closet) before we crept ever so quietly into bed. Sweet memories, those. Anyway, I haven't really watched for the last couple of seasons, but have been taping this year because I suppose I am drawn to endings. Apparently, I don't get enough catharsis in my real life.

My friend Wendy and I went to see "Jane Eyre" yesterday, and I enjoyed myself, because really, who doesn't enjoy a tragic love story set on the wind-swept moors?

We are on the tail end of a week of colds, which is funny because I had started a post about how we had managed to go all winter without a single illness. A couple of days later, Helena had a fever and stuffy nose, and then it worked its way through Harper, then Hudson, and now I am rather miserable. Also I can't hear, which is disabling and yet, somehow, rather pleasant.

The husband bought a grill on Saturday. Veggie burgers, turkey burgers (me), corn, red bell peppers, and zucchini, in case you are wondering:

La, la, la, la life goes on.