Monday, February 28, 2011

Rhyme Shmyme

Tate is into rhyming words. Really into them. He will just walk into the room and say, "Dog...log...bog", out of the blue. We don't even have to be talking about any of those things.

Many a shower of mine has been interrupted with him bursting into the bathroom to share yet another set of rhyming words he's come up with. "Mommy! Hand and band rhyme!".

He does try to insert words that aren't really words, however. Which I let him get away with at first, just to get down the concept of rhyming. But since he's getting ready to start Kindergarten, I figured it was probably time to fine tune his thought processes a little bit. Such as pointing out things that aren't actual words.

Last night at bedtime we were snuggling in his bed for a few minutes. He was on one of his rhyming kicks. "Water...glotter", he said.

"Well, those do rhyme Tate, but glotter isn't a word. What else rhymes with water?" I probed him.

He offered blotter. Which is a real word. But I suspect was a lucky guess on his part.

He then touched his little nose with his finger and said, "Nose...bose", with a big grin on his face.

Knowing full well that he was not aware of the high end speaker system with the same name, I just said, "Tate, bose isn't a word", trying to get him to think of another one.

His eyebrows furrowed together confused and he grabbed a little piece of his hair and said, "Yeah, don't Reese and Drue wear a bow in their hair?".

Perhaps I'm the one who needs her thought processes fine tuned...

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Reading Beauty

Drue is our eager reader. It's just something she excels in. She's surpassed Reese's level. Which is a problem. For Reese that is. We try and not make a big deal out of it while at the same time cheer her on. Yeah, it's a tough one.

Drue gets a different book to bring home for reading than her classmates. She recently brought home one about glaciers. It was the first book she's had this year that caused her a little bit of trouble.

I was folding laundry up on our bed while she read it to me.

"No sweetie. It's not's glay-sures" I would correct her.

I can usually figure out what she's trying to sound out and guide her without having to actually be looking at the words with her. But even I was stumped when she continued on and said, "3...tiny o...f."

I paused mid-fold. "Whoa, whoa, whoa...back up there little lady. Read that again?".

"3...tiny o...f", she repeated.

I reached for her book and she pointed out to me exactly what she had read, "See? 3...tiny o...f."

I had to chuckle a little bit when I explained to her that it was, in fact, a symbol for 3 degrees Farenheit.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

If I Ever Forget How Old I Am, My Kids Will Always Remind Me

I had no plans of watching American Idol this season. After losing Paula, then Simon, I just didn't think it would be the same. But the auditions sucked me back in. And the kids are really excited about it too. The past couple of years I've let the girls vote on the phone and they think that is totally cool.

So....we are officially watching it again. We get in our pjs, pop a huge batch of popcorn and claim our seats on the couch and recliner. The kids usually decide within the first few notes out of the contestants' mouths whether or not they think they should go to Hollywood.

If Tate were an official American Idol judge, nobody would go through to Hollywood. He'll say, "I don't like that guy". To which I have to correct him and say, "Tate, you don't even know that guy. So it's not nice to say you don't like someone you don't even know. You might not like the way he sings."

A couple of nights into the season Tate finally asked, "So what happens to the American Idol? What do they get to do?".

"Well...", I began, "They get to be famous. And make lots of records."

"Oh," Tate replied thoughtfully.

Short pause.

"What are records?".

Sunday, February 06, 2011

Thursday, February 03, 2011

Blizzard of Oz

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When I just had two little girls to dress up, I bought everything in girly colors. Then came Tate. The first winter he was able to go out and play in the snow, he had to wear lavender snow bibs. So I wised up right then and there and got gender neutral colors in things that didn't really matter, like snow gear. Although he is wearing black snow bibs this year, they are size 2T! The girls have fit into their same gear for a few winters now (I bought it big) so there was nothing to pass down to him this season. And his boots are Drue's from last year so they are a wee bit girly. I had to cut off the poofy pom pom balls. Never fear, I plan on getting him bigger stuff soon. It hasn't hindered his play time at all.
During one of their snow days, they all wanted to head out and play in the dozen or so inches we got. So they got all bundled and headed out to the backyard. I did wait til the warmest part of the day and sent them out in balmy 11 degree weather. Yes, you read that correctly, I sent them out. Which implies that I stayed in. If you notice, all the pictures are taken from approximately the same angle. From inside my toasty living room through the window.

I enjoy playing in the snow, and definitely sledding, but not when it's under 20ish degrees. They headed straight for the swings and playhouse, and even whipped down the frozen slide. They acted like it wasn't any different than heading out to play in the summer. They did make a few snow angels.
I kept cracking open the back door (the snow was so high I couldn't open it all the way) and asking them if they were ok. The day before when I helped shovel the drive my hands almost froze off. And I hadn't been throwing myself face first into it the way they were. So I could only imagine how cold they were getting.
I kept going back and forth as to how long I was going to let them stay out there. I almost had myself convinced that they would know enough to stop playing and come in when they got too cold. But then I decided that would be like sitting them in a roomful of candy and expecting them to know when enough is enough and stop eating it on their own. They would be sicker than a dog. And if I let them play outside in freezing temps banking on them coming in when they got too cold, they'd probably be frostbitten. So I boiled some water on the stove, filled 3 little cups with marshmallows, and summoned them inside with two words, "HOT CHOCOLATE!".
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