2.75
It's a 2.75 post, but I regretfully inform you that the threenager is already in full effect. Holy melodrama, Batman. Will we get the most joyful, thoughtful, hilarious little human ever? Or will she spiral out of control over absolutely nothing until we all cower before her head-spinning, shrieking, panicking, flailing tantrums? Who knows! Every day is an adventure!
Heidi started Montessori at the beginning of November. She has a little trouble separating in the morning but is otherwise doing well. When she doesn't want to go, she's chosen getting dressed as the place she'll take her stand, and there's a lot of screaming in the closet even though I will let her wear whatever the heck she wants. But then she usually rallies and drives off with Grandma, then leaves Grandma for the classroom, with minimal whimpering. It's funny to have a kid with perfectly normal levels of drop-off anxiety. Henry literally and figuratively ran screaming from school (as Ms. Bennett tactfully put it, "well, on a scale of one to ten, he's not beyond a ten"), and Ingrid didn't even glance back as she cheerfully skipped off to Miss Jackie. Heidi's giving us a perfectly average amount of crying for a preschooler.
School seems to be going well. She's happy when I pick her up, talking about her friends, telling us what she does during the day, and generally seems to be a happier little human for spending the time out of the house with other people. Heidi tends toward being extremely anxious. I think it's good for her that she can spend a lot of time at home with me where things are calm and predictable and I can give her a lot of control over her environment, but if she's only with me, she gets so attached to me that she can't separate even to do something on her own while I tend to Fritz or grab something from another room. Having a few hours a day with a lovely teacher who facilitates independent work is good for both of us.
And she does love to work! Lately she's really into cooking. She gets out her own little knife and cutting board, sets them up by my cutting board, brings the stool over, and diligently chops a pound of vegetables for me. She also spends a lot of time setting out tiny object in rows, especially things with letters and numbers -- I'm sure she's watching the big kids do sandpaper letters and movable alphabet at school. Numbers go one, two, three, four, five, nine, eleven, twelve, eleventeen, five-teen.
Many of my favorite toddlerisms have already faded. Piggle for pillow. Lunchraunt for restaurant. Tata for pasta. Crack butt. They're being replaced by grown-up phrases that sound comical coming from such a tiny person. By the way. Actually. Talking toddlers remains the best thing ever.
Routines are very important. We have to be careful of doing anything, especially during a touchy time like school drop-off or bedtime, lest it become an IMPERATIVE PART OF THE ROUTINE FOREVER. I took a picture of her on the front steps on the first day of school. Now we must take a picture on the steps every single day.
As you can see, she also gets fixated on certain articles of clothing. The monkey hat, "orange" gloves, and owl coat are essential. She will wear the pink pants as often as I let her. Same with her Smalls and Sunshine t-shirts.
She keeps adding steps at bedtime and it now takes me half an hour to get her down. What used to be three stories and two songs is now 2-3 stories, re-telling the stories of how Henry was crazy when he started school, talking about what will happen tomorrow, two songs (which she must sing with me), confirming that if she has a bad dream she can come sleep in my bed "with all these stuff" (i.e. her 8,000 lovies), and waving and blowing kisses as I walk out the door.
In other big news, she finally got a haircut! I was hanging on to those baby curls as long as I possibly could, but they were just looking frazzled and tangled all the time. Now it's much tamer, except for the one spot by her face where she twirls it obsessively. It's also very straight. It's otherwise the same texture as mine, so I wonder whether it would have been curlier if we still lived somewhere humid. She was a total champ during the haircut.
Other favorite things right now . . . we're reading lots of books, especially the Curious George and Madeline stories, many of which she has memorized. I could listen all day to her saying, "In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines." She loves to be tickled and requests every night, "You tickle me while I run away!" She bounces and gallops and prances everywhere. Her previously awesome eating habits have faded and she's turning into Ingrid, constantly seeking out snacks and sweets while otherwise surviving on air. For better or worse, she finally decided movies are awesome and has been obsessed in turn with Boss Baby, Peter Pan, the big doggie (the Sandlot), Cinderella, Nemo, Phineas & Ferb, Animaniacs, and a few others. After watching the Sandlot, she got Henry and Karl to teach her how to play catch, and directs us all, "keep your eye. on. the. BALL!"
You're killing us, Smalls. We adore you.
Heidi started Montessori at the beginning of November. She has a little trouble separating in the morning but is otherwise doing well. When she doesn't want to go, she's chosen getting dressed as the place she'll take her stand, and there's a lot of screaming in the closet even though I will let her wear whatever the heck she wants. But then she usually rallies and drives off with Grandma, then leaves Grandma for the classroom, with minimal whimpering. It's funny to have a kid with perfectly normal levels of drop-off anxiety. Henry literally and figuratively ran screaming from school (as Ms. Bennett tactfully put it, "well, on a scale of one to ten, he's not beyond a ten"), and Ingrid didn't even glance back as she cheerfully skipped off to Miss Jackie. Heidi's giving us a perfectly average amount of crying for a preschooler.
School seems to be going well. She's happy when I pick her up, talking about her friends, telling us what she does during the day, and generally seems to be a happier little human for spending the time out of the house with other people. Heidi tends toward being extremely anxious. I think it's good for her that she can spend a lot of time at home with me where things are calm and predictable and I can give her a lot of control over her environment, but if she's only with me, she gets so attached to me that she can't separate even to do something on her own while I tend to Fritz or grab something from another room. Having a few hours a day with a lovely teacher who facilitates independent work is good for both of us.
 |
| Lovely capture by the school photographer |
And she does love to work! Lately she's really into cooking. She gets out her own little knife and cutting board, sets them up by my cutting board, brings the stool over, and diligently chops a pound of vegetables for me. She also spends a lot of time setting out tiny object in rows, especially things with letters and numbers -- I'm sure she's watching the big kids do sandpaper letters and movable alphabet at school. Numbers go one, two, three, four, five, nine, eleven, twelve, eleventeen, five-teen.
Many of my favorite toddlerisms have already faded. Piggle for pillow. Lunchraunt for restaurant. Tata for pasta. Crack butt. They're being replaced by grown-up phrases that sound comical coming from such a tiny person. By the way. Actually. Talking toddlers remains the best thing ever.
Routines are very important. We have to be careful of doing anything, especially during a touchy time like school drop-off or bedtime, lest it become an IMPERATIVE PART OF THE ROUTINE FOREVER. I took a picture of her on the front steps on the first day of school. Now we must take a picture on the steps every single day.
The many faces of Heidi going to school:
As you can see, she also gets fixated on certain articles of clothing. The monkey hat, "orange" gloves, and owl coat are essential. She will wear the pink pants as often as I let her. Same with her Smalls and Sunshine t-shirts.
She keeps adding steps at bedtime and it now takes me half an hour to get her down. What used to be three stories and two songs is now 2-3 stories, re-telling the stories of how Henry was crazy when he started school, talking about what will happen tomorrow, two songs (which she must sing with me), confirming that if she has a bad dream she can come sleep in my bed "with all these stuff" (i.e. her 8,000 lovies), and waving and blowing kisses as I walk out the door.
In other big news, she finally got a haircut! I was hanging on to those baby curls as long as I possibly could, but they were just looking frazzled and tangled all the time. Now it's much tamer, except for the one spot by her face where she twirls it obsessively. It's also very straight. It's otherwise the same texture as mine, so I wonder whether it would have been curlier if we still lived somewhere humid. She was a total champ during the haircut.
Other favorite things right now . . . we're reading lots of books, especially the Curious George and Madeline stories, many of which she has memorized. I could listen all day to her saying, "In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines." She loves to be tickled and requests every night, "You tickle me while I run away!" She bounces and gallops and prances everywhere. Her previously awesome eating habits have faded and she's turning into Ingrid, constantly seeking out snacks and sweets while otherwise surviving on air. For better or worse, she finally decided movies are awesome and has been obsessed in turn with Boss Baby, Peter Pan, the big doggie (the Sandlot), Cinderella, Nemo, Phineas & Ferb, Animaniacs, and a few others. After watching the Sandlot, she got Henry and Karl to teach her how to play catch, and directs us all, "keep your eye. on. the. BALL!"
You're killing us, Smalls. We adore you.
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