She's her father's daughter

Z this morning: "Mom, put on that 'Hot 'n Cold' song!"

One minute later: No, turn that off. How about The Who's 'I Can See for Miles?"

Me: "It's not on iTunes."

Z: "Okay, how about some Led Zeppelin, then."

The Tooth Fairy is coming, the Tooth Fairy is coming

I discovered Z's first wobbly tooth on Sunday night as I was flossing her teeth, and on Tuesday I sat her down for this quick interview about tooth fairy. She's created her own myth that I can only guess is fed by what other kids have told her and her own imagination.

In preparation for the tooth's eventual trip under her pillow, I asked my Facebook friends what the tooth fairy's going rate is these days. Apparently a dollar (preferably a gold one) is the preferred currency. I'm glad my friends don't live in Silicon Valley.

Never lose control of your interview

How old are you? Four.
What do you do every day? I have breakfast. I go to school. And I come home from school.
What is your favorite part of the day? When you come home from work and you read me stories. And when you tell me a made-up story.
What do you love to do? Art class.
What don't you love to do? I don't like to have pasta.
What are your favorite foods? Mac and cheese and pizza and peas and corn on the cob.
What does Mommy love to do? Hey, I want to ask the questions.
But this is my interview of you. I want to ask you the questions.
Okay, you can ask the questions; I'll just type them into the computer. No, I'm big now. Give me the computer and I'll ask the questions and I'll type in the answers!

Basically, my 4 year old hijacked my interview. Here's a screenshot of her 10 minutes of reportage. Bonus points if you can translate her inventive phonetic spellings to English.

Sewed in G-d's image

"Mommy, how does G-d make us?"
"I don't know."
"How do you think he made us?"
"I don't know. G-d is unknowable."
"Oh, I think I know. G-d sewed and sewed and sewed until he made a body and then he whooshed me down to earth. And he checked to make sure his sewing looked like my picture."

See also: Theology from a 4 year old


McCall's image uploaded to Flickr by Embroiderist, used under Creative Commons license.

Funny sh*t my kids do and say

I've got a mild case of blogger's block, so instead of dazzling you with my thoughts on President Obama's health care speech, the 3 1/2 hour preschool board meeting that I was stuck in during the speech or the fairly tedious projects I'm tackling at work, I'm going to pimp out my cuties. They've got plenty to say.

Z, upon seeing my blow-dried hair this morning, asked, "Why is your hair so straight?"
"Because I got a haircut and the lady who cut it straightened it. Don't you think it looks nice?" I responded.
"I think it hangs in your face."

Minutes later I was trying to get A dressed, and I kid you not, this is what she said. "I wanna wear a costume! I bumble bee costume. Or a pin-sess. Where's my tutu?" After getting her out of the silky slip--my silky slip--she was wearing as a floor-length gown, I finally coaxed her into a sailor dress by claiming it was a sailor costume for boat riding. I can't wait for the Halloween sales to start because this kid loves to dress up.

After breakfast, A caught a glimpse of Z's underwear and realized her big sister had helped herself to her Little Mermaid panties. The newly (nearly) potty trained one threw a fit until Z disrobed and the two girls exchanged underpants. "It's okay, Mommy," Z reassured me, "we pretty much wear the same size."

The final anecdote I was not there to witness, but apparently A saw a squirrel on the back porch and yelled to Josh, "Der's a mouse in da house!"

She'll be her own stepmom

Last night, I kissed Josh in front of Z.

Z: "Kiss me, Daddy!" Josh kisses her on the cheek.

Z: "No, on the lips!"

Josh: "Uh, no."

Me: "Daddy kisses me on the lips because we're married, honey."

Z: "Guess who I'm going to marry when I grow up?"

Me: "Who?"

Z: "Daddy!"

Me: "But I'm already married to Daddy."

Z: "Yeah, but when I'm old enough to marry Daddy, you'll be dead!"

This last line was delivered a little too gleefully, if you ask me.

Noteable quotables from Z

Shouted to me from the bathroom, while I was loading the dishwasher.

"Mommy, how does Stevie Wonder drive a car?"
"Hey, this poop looks just like a pacifier. Come look!"

Interview with the 4 year old Z

Inspired by Danielle's interview with her 5 year old, I asked Z some questions this evening.

How old are you?
Z: 4

Where were you born?
Z: Chicago

What's your favorite thing to do?
Z: Go to school and play with Leo [the boy next door].

What's your least favorite thing to do?
Z: Play with my sister.

What does Mommy do for work?
Z: Write a blog [um, not quite].

What does Daddy do for work?
Z: Works on the computer.

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Z: A dance teacher.

What was your favorite trip?
Z: England

Where would you like to travel to next?
Z: Florida

What's your favorite toy?
Z: Dollhouse

What's your favorite food?
Z: Lasagna [she said this but then refused to eat another bite]

What's your least favorite food?
Z: Salad

What will you be doing when you're 10?
Z: Going to Lincoln School.

What about when you're 16?
Z: Going to high school.

And when you're 25?
Z: Work!

Do you remember being a baby?
Z: Yes, I was teeny-tiny and I came out of your stomach.

What makes Mommy happy?
Z: I don't know.

What makes Mommy sad?
Z: When I bother you when you're sleeping.

How old am I?
Z: You are 32.

What is my favorite thing to do?
Z: Work.

What do you want to say to the people who read this interview on my blog?
Z: I want to say I love you.

I swear it wasn't a shotgun wedding

"Mommy, did people laugh at you at your wedding?"
"No, of course not. Why would they?"
"Because you were pregnant with me."
"I wasn't pregnant with you at my wedding, Z. You came 5 years later!"
"Yes you were. I think I came the next day. The day after your wedding."
"No, you came a long time after. Trust me, I remember."
"Well, were you pregnant at any wedding?"
"Um, I don't really remember. But no, I don't think so."
"Oh."

WTF, huh? It boggles my mind to believe my innocent little four year old was sitting in the backseat on the way to the zoo with visions of her mama's shotgun wedding dancing in her head. And the fact that she knows, on some level, that a bride in the family way might be blushing as her guests tut-tut about her? Sheesh. Either Caillou's got a subtext that I'm missing or the kids at preschool are giving her quite the extracurricular education.

Idle threats

I give Z a nightly massage, and she likes me to tickle her stomach with my fingertips. "Mommy, tickle me with your fingers and don't let your hands come down. If your hand touches, I'm going to take away all your earrings and all your necklaces and all your bracelets."

She also threatened me with the following in an attempt to keep me from leaving her room and going downstairs: "If you leave me, I'll be very upset and I won't let you put me to bed ever again!" She must have caught the glint in my eye, because she followed that up with "And I won't draw you in any of my pictures!"

Theology from a 4-year-old

Z brought up G-d again this morning, which meant that as I was driving her to preschool, I was trying to explain that G-d is everywhere, but most importantly in our hearts. If we listen to the little voice inside us, I said, we're listening to G-d and we will know how to make the right choice and do good to others. For example, I said, if you listen to your heart, do you think it's better to push your sister or hug your sister?

"Hug my sister!" Z shouted. Great, I thought. But then she started her own little sermon on G-d, which I'm going to do my best to capture here.

"Everybody has a little G-d in their hearts. But G-d is also in the air. Is G-d a boy or a man?"

"G-d could be a man or a woman. G-d's not a person and since G-d's invisible, we don't know what he looks like."

"Well, his name is G-d and that sounds like a boy's name." What, because it rhymes with Todd?

"Oh, I know something, Mommy! Can I tell you an example? Girls and women have girl gods inside them and boys and men have boy gods inside their tummies. And we have to listen to the G-d inside us and do the right thing. Does that sound like a good idea?"

Sure, honey. It does.

Inadvertent use of the term "bloodbath"

In the process of explaining to Z why it wasn't a good idea to jump off the step stool into the bath, I said that she would likely crack her head open on the side of the tub.
"And then blood would swoosh all over and it would be a bloodbath?" she responded, oh so innocently.
"Yes, it would be an utter bloodbath," I replied.

On the cusp of reading

Z, who turned 4 in November, is showing more and more signs of reading readiness. She can sound out a lot of words and yesterday she wrote MGAZEN and said "Look mommy, I spelled magazine. I just sounded out the letters!" Before MGAZEN, all the words Z's written have been memorized, and most of them are the names of her family members or friends.

Check out this Slate article on how you can help your infant, toddler or elementary school child build his or her reading skills.

My daughter scoops the WSJ's Chuck E Cheese story

Just a few weeks ago, we passed a Chuck E. Cheese's on the way to Monkey Island. Z, who has never stepped foot in one, described the place this way to her 3-year-old friend, who was also in the backseat:

"Chuck E Cheese's is a very fun place. You have to be, like, bigger than 3 to go there. Like 4, 5 or 6. But mostly 7 or 8 or even 9. They have games and yummy food and you can jump around and dance like crazy. But it's a little bit scary for little kids."

Yeah, really scary.

Baby, she's rich girl

We've been offering (bribing) Z 3 pennies a night to go to bed without calling us back for no good reason and she's got over 50¢ in her jam jar. I explained to her that when she has 75¢ or so, we can take her money to the store and she can pick out the candy bar of her choice.

"Really? Like the kind in the orange wrapper? With the peanut butter and chocolate?"
"Yes, you can pick a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup."
"And the brown kind that tells you it's Hershey's?"
"Yes, another good choice."
"Mommy? I think I want to spend my money to buy Daddy a very special bag of coffee, because he loves coffee!"
"Well...that's very sweet, honey, but for 75¢ you can maybe buy Daddy a cup of coffee."

But not at Starbucks. Or McDonald's. Or anywhere but from the Bagel Boys at Temple, really.

My daughter, the very busy creative director

Josh dropped Z off at my office yesterday afternoon around 3pm, which meant she got to experience ad agency cube life lite for 2 hours.

First, she stopped by people's cubicles to say hi. In Holly's office she was given an old Blackberry and invited in to color on jumbo Post-It boards with permanent markers! Tara regaled her with medical stories and Maggie and Rachel offered her Andrea's workspace, complete with computer and telephone. Mags also taught her how to call people's extensions, unleashing a new beast, the telephone dialing 4-year-old.

Wondering why my daughter had no interest in hanging with Mommy, I went looking for her.

"Hi, Mommy! Mommy, pretend you're the girl and I'm the Mommy and you're visiting me at work."
"Hi, Mommy."
"Say, 'What are you doing, Mommy?'"
"What are you doing, Mommy?"
"I'm very busy on my Blackberry and my computer and my phone. Wait! My phone is ringing! Hello? What are you doing?" She puts down the phone. "Oh, wait! I need to order a pizza!"
A moment later...
"Okay, say 'Will you play with me, Mommy?'"
"Will you play with me, Mommy?"
"No, I can't play with you because I'm working. Now, pretend we're home. Say 'Mommy, I don't want you to go to work today."
"Mommy, don't go to work today. Stay home with me."
"No, I have to go to work so I can pay bills. Telephone bills. I have to pay bills on my computer at work. Now, little girl, if you go to school and have lunch and take a nap, your dad will pick you up and stop at home for 10 minutes and then he'll take you to my work. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Now you can leave. I'm going to stay here with Maggie and Rachel. Hey, what's inside this Hello Kitty cup?"

Where Z's going on Monday

This from my almost 4-year-old.

"On Monday, a weekday, me an' Julia are going to Disney World. We're going to sneak out of school and Mrs. B is going to say 'Hey, where did those girls go!' We're going to pack so much stuff! First we're going to buy a big, sharp scary knife and pack our markers, our crayons...so much! We're going to take our great big knife on an airplane and when we get to Disney World we're going to find the Stepmother an' Stepsisters and we're going to put our big knife right in them until they die! We're goin' to rescue Cinderella from their treachery and then we're going to take our markers and scribble 'em out!"

Abracadabra!

Z waved her magic fairy wand at me and said "I'm going to change you into something bad. I'm changing you into a dirty truck!"

Oversharing

"I always have messy poops."
That's what Z told the cashier at Walgreens as I purchased a box of Lactaid. We're fairly convinced the girl's become lactose intolerant.

Dear G-d, please make me into a boy

"Mommy, I want G-d to change me into a boy."
"Why?"
"Because... I just want to...I talked to G-d about it, but he didn't answer back. Mommy, how do hear G-d?""
"Umm...you, uh, listen inside your head...But, I don't think G-d is going to change you into a boy. G-d made your body and it's perfect just the way it is."
"No it's not!"
"Honey, why do you think you want to be a boy?"
Embarrassed silence. She glances toward the bathroom.
"Z, is it because you want to pee standing up?"
"Yeah."

Since I feel poorly qualified to answer Z's questions about G-d and Josh is a Jewish atheist who has no patience for discussions of this nature, I am ordering up some propaganda.