A New Franchise

My littles have been most mischievous and cute.

On the first front, they were both engrossed in books yesterday afternoon, so I took a few moments to check e-mail. I looked back often to make sure they were still there and busy, and after a bit they appeared so peaceful, sharing and reading one book together, that I just had to take a look at which one it was. When I crossed the room, however, I discovered that they had been joyfully and cooperatively adhering about $5 worth of postage to the rug and the cover of (yes) just the one book.

What's more, I figured out that this must have been a two-step escapade, because the postage was from a roll of stamps inside a little plastic mail truck that ordinarily sits right next to the computer I'd just been using. The most likely explanation is that James discovered the truck sometime earlier, believed it to be a desirable toy, swiped it, and stored it near the books for later use . . . only to find out with Genevieve that it also housed all kinds of nice stickers!

On the second front . . . well, for those of you who have never (or rarely) met James, I need to explain his obsession with "coffee" (which was definitely among his first 5 words). From the first time he could wrangle a cup, he has been an inveterate hot beverage thief. This has not been helped by a certain soft-hearted nursery worker at church who has given in many times to his cute appeals to her for sips . . . or by our own weakness in this area! (And have you seen the tiny cute Starbucks kids' cups? Awww! I admit that I even get him his own drinks sometimes.) Plus, James figured out long ago that, after I drop Glenn off at church for worship team practice, I usually go order beverages (coffee for me, hot chocolate for Glenn; iced equivalents in summer) from a drive-through Dunkin' Donuts. As soon as I start rounding the corner of the church, he announces in a sing-song voice: "Coffee soon!" He has learned brand recognition for both Dunkin' and Starbucks, and sometimes gets upset when we pass one of either coffee source without stopping and purchasing one. (Hey, I guess I have to admit I'm kind of sad about such pass-bys myself!)

So it was only logical that, when Genevieve was inside the playhouse yesterday, and James saw her through the open window of it, that he began his order as he passed by on his trike: "Coffee . . . choc-it . . . cup!" Of course I had no camera at the right time, but I got them an appropriate cup to use for this roleplay and hoped they would continue so I could repose them. No such luck. Here's the best I can do. At least you can see why he'd see the connection!

Animal Tales

Well, we had a cat for nearly a week. Lucy (previously known as "Bunky"; we renamed her) was a sweet Maine coon cat who loved laps, licking people who pet her, and finding soft places to hang out. She was so agreeable that she even sat on James's lap while he watched Sesame Street, and he was surprisingly gentle with his petting! Genevieve quickly learned the word "cat" and every time she saw a cat in a book, she would look around expectantly so she could point to the real thing. She still points vaguely around her when she sees a cat picture, like "There's one of these around here someplace!"

The only negative the shelter had told us about Lucy was that, in her previous home, she disliked using litter boxes frequented by other cats. "She would go outside the box if she had to use one with another cat's scent. She's fussy that way. But you should be fine if you have no other cats." We had no others. So we thought we were set.

Unfortunately, we started to observe a mismatch between how much liquid was being taken in by Lucy and how much we were removing from the box. Turns out she had been using those soft surfaces she liked so much (particularly two couches) as latrines. Eww.

Perhaps if I didn't have two toddlers running to cause chaos in opposite directions, I might have persisted a bit in trying to keep Lucy. But back she went . . . at which point the folks at the shelter revealed that couches were the "outside the box" locales where she would relieve herself at her previous home! I really would have preferred to know that earlier (we pictured *right* outside the box, as a previous cat of ours had done once or twice). I'm still trying to salvage one of our couches.

During this whole incident, my two oldest children have been having the time of their lives visiting their aunt and uncle in New Jersey (they're never going to want to come home!). So we have appeared to be your stereotypical 4-member family again, and our littles have definitely been the focus. The county fair is going on this week, and both toddlers love animals, so we got together with my husband's parents and went there. (Unfortunately we forgot our camera, so no images to follow!)

I thought, considering her reaction to the cat, that Genevieve would be the most excited about the experience. But it was James who was beside himself at the fair. He just couldn't believe that all these animals were *right there*! In front of him! And he could go find the next one himself! (We let him walk in each building, and he was actually willing to climb back into the stroller in order to go to the next place.) "Sheep! More sheep? Two sheep!" he would exclaim. ("Two" currently means multiples of any number.)

But the small poultry barn was, surprisingly, his favorite. The interior's perimeter was lined with cages. James ran around pointing at each cage in turn as quickly as he possibly could, telling everyone "Chicken! Chicken! Chicken! Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!" as he pointed.

There was a large incubator in the center that contained what looked like over a hundred baby chicks, and inexplicably the fellow who had brought these little ones decided that my hyper boy was a good candidate to hold one. "Uh, I really don't think you want to entrust a chick to this guy," I tried to warn him. "I think he might squeeze it."

"Oh, no, I'm sure he'll be just fine! Most little fellows just need to get used to the tickly feeling of the chick's feet, and then they hold them real gentle." He brought the poor unsuspecting victim chick closer. "Hold out your hand."

I shook my head, but put my palm out and put James's hand, palm up, on top. "See this chick?" said the man. "You can touch it!" James gently touched the chick's back with his other hand. "Now this chick, he has fingers, like you, and they're going to tickle your hand." The man put the chick on James's outstretched hand, which immediately curled up with wiggly fingers.

"Tickle, tickle!" said James. I think he thought he was supposed to tickle the chick back.

"Oh, dear," said the man, but my hand was underneath and caught the chick. ("My first time holding a baby chick!" was my bizarre thought, considering the circumstances.) And off James ran to see his grandpa, leaving me to return the (probably confused) chick to its owner.