Supplement or Country?

This morning, between preparing the different egg, toast, and cereal orders at breakfast. I asked the girls if they'd already had their vitamins or not. Being a bit of a prat, I pronounced vitamin as the British English /ˈvɪt ə mɪn/ instead of the American English /ˈvaɪt ə mɪn/. Naturally, this offended Celeste gravely. After correcting my pronunciation, she stated, "besides /ˈvɪt ə mɪn/ is a country." We all paused for a moment trying to figure out what she meant ... then it clicked: Việt Nam. Which now has me thinking about bánh mì...

Morning Soliloquy

Quinlan woke up overly early this morning. Despite being a little on the fragile side, she was doing fairly well, but while flipping through a book of older pictures of herself she ran across one of her and Big Elephant. Big Elephant is a very large stuffie that came into the house as a baby gift for Celeste; of course, since Big Elephant (as the name implies) is not a dog, it eventually became Quinn's. For a long time BE served as bed and/or covers for Quinlan, sleeping either on top of or under it, but for the past 9 months or so, BE's been more or less an afterthought, stuffed in a basket with other less-favored stuffies.

When she saw the picture, Q started to get choked up and said, "I wish I could cry" [blogger's note: she can, just for some reason the drama meant she couldn't] "because I haven't seen Big Elephant in so long …" After a short discussion, in which she insisted that BE was lost/had been taken away/had been given to the thrift store, Q went upstairs to check the basket of stuffies in her room and then, shortly thereafter, came bounding down the stairs dragging along Big Elephant.

There was playing and laughter and then, eventually, came the morning insight into a child's mind:

Q: You know? As I get older, my stuffies seem a little less real. I mean, Big Elephant used to be real, but not … I mean, when I was little I used to pretend that if I wanted something, it could come out of Big Elephant's nose … and it really would!

Hey, Crickets ... Chirp Up!

Quinlan sometimes gets frustrated by things. Things that she really should enjoy, instead of be annoyed by. Like early morning music from crickets and birds. But this morning, she decided to have her revenge ... with music and dance.

It's a bit dark ... which is quite normal for 6:00 a.m., but you can still make out most of the dance moves, hand motions, and, of course, the lesson in song.

Painting the Planets

We recently went to Chincotegaue Island and on the way stopped at NASA Wallops Island. During her turn through the gift shop, Celeste really wanted a model of the solar system. It was a pretty simple snap-together kit with glow-in-the-dark paint. Flash forward a week (we had to wait until we got home, and then for an afternoon when I was home to help her with it) and we snapped things together and then the painting began ...

Less Loved Than a Lima Bean

When Quinlan is feeling under the weather or overtired, she can get quite mean. Tonight, after a day when Evelin was sick and thus not as available to Q as the little one would like, she was in rare form.

After telling me that she didn't love me and musing as to why Mumma couldn't have have married someone else^*, Quinlan started listing out the only people she loves:

1. Her Kindergarten Teacher


2. Her Best, Best Friend in Kindergarten


3. Old Blankie (the blanket she's had since she was an infant


4. Her Other Best Friend in Kindergarten

She then made a point of telling me that she didn't love me at all. Testing her resolve, I asked which she loved more, me or lima beans; she replied, without a pause, "Lima beans."

I then asked if she loved Mumma more than lima beans; she said no. I asked again, and she realized she was confused, because she does love her mother more than lima beans. She slotted Evelin in around No. 100 on the list of people she loves best.

After a few minutes of calmness, Quinlan burst into a sob: "I can't love Old Blankie third!" (Sorry Best, Best Kindergarten Friend; you're number three now.) As she reorder the top of her list, she threw out Evelin's name as being No. 20; then she quickly changed it to No. 10.

I, however, remained less loved than lima beans.

A bit later, after Quinlan had fallen asleep, I went to check on Celeste, who could hear most of the conversation through her wall. I asked if she loved me more than lima beans and did a bit of a snort laugh before saying "You, of course." (To be fair, I knew how she'd respond: the girl dosen't at all look forward to fall, when the farmer's market has fresh baby lima beans that I love to cook up by the quart with shallots and tons of olive oil ...)

After a short pause, Celeste asked: "Daddy? Do you love me more than lima beans?"

"Well, lima beans are really good ... but I love you more."

^* I told her that Mumma and I had fallen in love, and she starts in with a sing-song taunt: "Mumma fell in love."