She's Beauty and She's Grace, She's Miss United States...

Cordelia discovered the garden of earthly delights this afternoon, after we discovered our green beans had grown!

It went downhill and dirtier from there. But is she Cody's sister in the above, or what?

Burke Lake Park

Over the past few weeks, we've gone to Burke Lake Park a couple of times to ride the train and carousel. We knew Cody loved it; we thought fearless Cordelia would, too. We were wrong. She loved the idea of the train. She'd wave eagerly and shout "Choo choooo! Choo chooo! Hi!" but when that train began to move down the track, all she could do was bury her head in our necks and softly whimper, "All done? All done? All done choo choo?"

Cody (and Violet, too!) had a blast.

And by the way, happy birthday, Violet!

Cordelia was inconsolable. But tried to be a brave little toaster.

She fared better on the carousel.

But the second time around, she passed, preferring to wait behind the fence and wave joyously every time Cody rotated in her direction.

Here he comes!!

Where is he? Is he coming back! Yes! There he is!

Gnarley, dude!

(I didn't get her hand in the photo but she's doing "gnarley" back!)

She loves him so much. And she's so beautiful.

And so is he.

Abandonment Issues

All in all, Cody seems to be adjusting to preschool. He will often tell me, apropos of nothing, how much he loves his teacher and how kind she is; yesterday he sang a new song they had learned (about the seven continents; I'm glad to now have a mnemonic to help me remember not to forget Antarctica) and he doesn't have meltdowns when we drop him off. And then this.

Tonight, I read him one of his favorite stories, Lost and Found. Basic plot: penguin shows up on boy's doorstep, they become friends, boy decides he should help the penguin find his way home; they row companionably to the South Pole; he leaves the penguin, who for some reason looks despondent; on the way back, he realizes the penguin "hadn't been lost. It had just been lonely." Boy immediately turns and rows back to South Pole to retrieve penguin friend; they hug; they row home together.

We got to this page, and Cody said, "This part reminds me a little bit of preschool."

With a lump in my throat, I asked him what he meant. He replied, "Because the boy just drops the penguin off, and then the penguin watches him row far away from him."

I reminded him that the boy always, always, always goes back to get his best friend. He seemed reassured. And now I will have my good cry.

Fire Station 14

The big excitement this week was the trip we made to have our very own tour (with some fellow St. Elizabeth's moms and kids) of Fire Station 14 -- where, you might remember, Cody once met Firefighter Alex. Well, this time, he met Firefighter Chris, and he was quite possibly the happiest kid there. ("Hello Mr. Firefighter! My name is Cody! What's your name? Thank you for letting me come to your fire station! That was so kind of you!" and "My sister accidentally broke her hat! Would you mind giving me an extra hat? Thank you so much!")

Cordelia's a fan of fire engines. A future in pyrotechnics is well within the realm of possibilities. She spent the whole of the excursion shrieking, "TRUCK! O-KAY!" and making siren sounds. She loved her hat, even after she had broken it. By ripping it apart with her bare hands.

The two best moments, though, are classic Cody. First, we got to tour the firefighters' "very own kitchen." Most of the kids were unimpressed and keen to move on to the ambulance bay. You know, because they are normal. Cody, however, was fascinated, and took his time, asking Chris lots of questions. I had stopped watching when suddenly he sprinted across the kitchen and said, "Mom! You will never believe it! The firefighters have a Bissell canister vacuum! AND, a MIXER!"

Next came a peek the ambulance bay.

It was kind of a tight fit, and there were lots of small people. I lost track of Cody, and called out, "Cody...where are you, buddy?" One of the other moms peeked into the back of the ambulance and shouted, "He's on the gurney!"

Of course he was.

"Here Cordelia-birdie! I got you a replacement hat! Please do not rip this one apart, Birdie."

They drive me bonkers, a lot of the time. But boy, do I love my children.

Words, words, words!

Cordelia has decided to talk in earnest, having realized, I suspect, that speech brings both power and attention, and transforms her will into her way. All things she approves of. So now, instead of giving us derisive looks when we say "Use your words!" she is really trying to say everything -- Shoes! Socks! Sink! Truck! Train! Bus! Turtle! Birdie! Bubble! More! Down! Now! No! No WAY! CODY! COCO!!!!! LOVEYOU!!! Cracker! COOKIE! PLEASE! YUM! THANK YOU! TOOTH! TOES! COCO!! LOVEYOU!!! Shark! Nose! Poop! Uh-oh! ALL DONE!" (These are in no particular order.) She sings along with everything she knows, too, filling in a surprising amount of the words (particularly when listening to The Sound of Music or the theme song to Mr. Rogers's Neighborhood.)

It's lovely and amusing to watch her language develop. This morning on the way home from dropping Cody at school, I asked if she would like some music. "O-KAY!" Tired of the usual Julie Andrews or bluegrass, I put on the classical channel. She listened for a second to Mozart, head cocked, then started shaking her head vehemently and saying, "No WAY!" I said, "Well, what WOULD you like to hear?"

She grinned and said, "WORDS!"

Defend Me In Battle

If I don't write this down, I'll forget and regret. This has been one of Those Afternoons. And I've only been home two hours. And it's not yet dinnertime. But Cody has been rather a nightmare, and malicious toward his sister. It's killing me, and I have not figured out the best way around and through it, and am afraid this reveals bad character--God forbid he become a bully!--or portends a fractured, distant relationship between them, instead of the love and affection I so hope for (and sometimes do see). Anyway, the two of them were on the couch, and he was relentlessly pulling, pushing, tugging, and generally oppressing her. She finally got fed up and bit him--hard. He started screaming (understandably). Once we got everyone calm and gave them a break from each other, we had what I'm sure was a yet another completely ineffective conversation about actions and consequences. I suggested Cody play quietly in the playroom for awhile, which he did. About a minute later, she followed him in. He bravely said, "Hello Cordelia. I am playing in here. You may come in too..." and then, under his breath, I heard him mutter, "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend me in battle."

I kid you not. And it gets better, because a few minutes later, she threw a matchbox car. Just to see what I would do. I sternly reminded her that we don't throw toys. Cody looked at me appraisingly, then picked up another car and chucked it across the room. I gave him The Look and before I could say anything, he said, "Cordelia set a bad example for me. She is the snares of the devil."

I have no further comment, because I am actually speechless.

May God rebuke him, I humbly pray. But what do I do about all this?

Bailing Out

It seems like Cody had a little bit of a tough day at preschool today. Here are some snippets of our conversation.


Me: Who did you play with today?
CJP: Well, mostly I hanged out with Bailey.
Me: Hung.
CJP: Mostly I hung out with Bailey.
Me: What did you two talk about?
CJP: Actually, mostly I just followed her around. And Bailey was kind of rough on me at line time (when they sit in a circle to do activities).
Me: What happened?
CJP: Well, I accidentally got into her personal space a little bit. Actually a lot.
Me: What did she do?
CJP: She moved very far away from me.
Me: What did you do then?
CJP: I moved closer to her.


Poor Bailey. Anyone want to take odds on when the teacher will call?


And speaking of personal space, Jonathan witnessed a run-in with another kid, named Ike (clearly the name of a bad penny), in which Ike grabbed Cody's arm and started making Cody smack himself in the head with his own hand. (Yes, Ike is still alive, and clearly, he has a mean-spirited older sibling at home.) Later, he recounted another incident that must have happened earlier, in which Ike (who is smaller, the bastard) was beating up on him and Ms. Leavesley came and "was so stern to him and made him leave me alone and go sit over there with her; wasn't that so kind?" So the game plan for tomorrow, if Ike pulls that crap again, is for him to sternly--and loudly--defend himself. When brainstorming ideas, Cody came up with: "Ike, you MAY NOT be unacceptable to me! I will be SO stern to you if you try to hurt me!" What can I say; it was a rough draft.


The unfortunate side dish is that he apparently was horribly rude and aggressive toward Cordelia after this incident. (Now, correlation is not causation, but poor Birdie. It is hard to love your brother so much and be constantly rebuffed. He is the apple of her eye; she is fiercely devoted and more often than not, he is heartbreakingly dismissive of her. It's painful to watch her unrequited love play out sometimes. She's pretty resilient and cheerful about it, but still, we feel for her.) I happen to know that lunch was cut short and he went to bed early. Not knowing that I knew (does he never learn?) he confided in me,


CJP: I did not have the best lunch. Then, this afternoon, Bidi had a tantrum. She had such a huge tantrum! I had to be so stern with her because of that rude, aggressive behavior. Me: Oh dear. What was bothering her?
CJP: Well...actually...um...the tag of her shirt. That was bothering her. And then, she got hit in the head by a bucket wheel excavator!

Change of Season

"April showers bring May flowers." May: "In like a lion, out like a lamb." (Or is that March?) November: "Turkey." There should be one of those stupid monthly expressions for September--not "Christmas decorations appear at Hallmark" but more specifically, how everyone always gets sick when the season begins to change. Well, that's it, I guess. September: "Ropes of snot; healthy, you're not." (It's late. I'll do better tomorrow.) Anyway. Both of them have had miserable colds since last week. This is the "on the mend" Cordelia...but note the unhappy face and red eyes.

Cody, happily, is on the mend...so much so that he DID NOT WANT TO LEAVE PRESCHOOL TODAY! This, however, had everything to do with the fact that Bailey was sitting two chairs away when I picked him up. Looking coy. I don't care; I'm just glad he's not bawling when he sees me, and, with sobs wracking his body, wailing, "Thank you so much for coming back to get me, Mommy."

This is from this morning. Not pictured: Mr. Kermit and Mr. Rodney, Monday's Garbage Gentlemen Buddies, rounding the corner onto Sulky Court, hopper a-howlin'.

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