Brownie, cake baker

Last week Zoe made her first cake. Sure, she's been helping out in the kitchen since she was a toddler, but in order to enter a cake in the Girl Scouts 100th Birthday Cake Contest and Auction at her school, she had to do all the prep work and clean up on her own. (I slid the cake pans in and out of the oven and offered advice.)

Zoe made a boxed Devil's Food Cake and iced it with a white buttercream from a Trader Joe's mix. Since the mix didn't contain quite enough frosting, she "glued" Whole Foods faux Oreos around the sides with icing.

More challenging was decorating the thing. My little 7 year old had grand plans that included roses and complicated messaging along the top, but she lacked enough strength in her fingers to press out any green icing beyond "100," and that was a struggle that nearly brought her to tears.

Since we were heading to the retreat and had to miss the judging and auction, we dropped the cake off with one of the troop leaders. Apparently it sold for $10! You can see photos from the event here. Tell me if you think all these cakes were made without a parent's help. I have my doubts...

Happy 7th Birthday, Z

You're only just turning 7, but I can tell I'm going to love this age. Seven is independent, happy to disappear into her room for a couple of hours or play with her friends without adult intervention. You can do your homework independently, coordinate your own outfits, wash and comb your hair and butter your own bread.

You've got a few bad habits, namely being an incredibly picky eater and stubbornly refusing to even try suspicious foods, and being a messy eater of those foods you do enjoy. You're also a bit flighty, frequently dropping your dirty clothes where they came off of you and failing to put on your coat/shoes/socks until repeatedly reminded. Usually your absentmindedness can be blamed on your bookwormishness. When I wake up in the morning, you're in bed with a book. When you're supposed to be getting dressed, you're reading a book. You read books while you eat, in the car, on the school bus and during any and all down time.

Don't get me wrong, your reading and writing skills make your father and I so proud. Your stories and poems are hilariously inventive and the angry letters you write me when I've sent you to your room should really be tucked away in your baby book, they're so passionate (and accurately illustrated).

You've got other skills too. You're thisclose to mastering the splits at gymnastics, and you'll be competing with your team for the first time in January. You've picked up Hebrew about 1000% faster than your mother, scoring 100% on every test so far this year. You're also making ice skating look easy, but I'm thinking that might be because momma bought you roller skates this summer, giving you an unfair head start.

Regardless of the passion you choose to pursue, I can't wait to see what this year holds in store.

So proud of my 2nd grader

School pictures came in, and this one couldn't do a better job of capturing Z's personality. A self-proclaimed "Lincoln Leader," she prides herself on getting her homework done ahead of time, never "going on yellow or red" on the in-class behavior chart, getting 100% on all her Hebrew tests and mastering new gymnastics tricks at team practice. She also loves her friends at school and is looking forward to having 7 of them over for her 7th birthday party, which will have a sewing theme.

This evening is our first parent-teacher conference of the year. When I asked Z what her teacher would have to say about her, she said "All good things." Here's to hoping she's right...

Her two front teeth: gone

Before

Longtime readers may remember A injured her two front teeth when she was 2 and Josh and I opted to take a wait and see approach instead of pulling them preventatively. The only real risk of waiting was the possibility of infection, but since infection comes with pain, I figured we could wait until the teeth were bothering A before subjecting her to a pull.

Well, on Friday evening she said "My gray tooth hurts." She said it again on Saturday, and on Sunday she said drinking orange juice made her tooth hurt, too. So I made up my mind to call the dentist first thing Monday morning. The funny thing is that before I even got out of bed, Z came in to announce two more of her own teeth had just come out. That brings Z's tally up to 8, by the way.

They had us come in at 10am, and 15 minutes later the dentist was showing me a side-by-side comparison of A's teeth at her last appointment and her current X-rays. It was clear the roots had dissolved a lot and there was a small infection in the more damaged tooth. I gave my permission to pull and A walked out with the nurse 30 minutes later, her new gap stuffed with gauze. We took it easy for the rest of the day, watching videos, playing at the park, and going out for a pasta dinner.

After

She was such a trooper. No tears before, during or after her visit, and in a super mood all day. Josh and I are actually beginning to suspect that her frequent moodiness and daily tantrums might have been triggered by pressure and discomfort in her mouth. Which makes me feel like kind of a lousy mom. But a pretty busy tooth fairy!

I love midday updates like this

Josh sent emailed me this from his phone today after picking up Z from school. Made my afternoon.


A: I know what private school is! It's a school where you're not allowed to show your privates.
Z: No, that's not what a private school is. A private school is a school you have to sign up for where they give you a code to open the door.

Incidentally, A claims she forgot to put on underwear this morning.

All apologies

I stepped out of the shower this morning and both girls were up on Z's loft bed, chatting happily and looking at books. It was an idyllic scene.

I knew it couldn't last.

Sure enough, I'd no sooner put on my jeans when the shrieking began. It was laughing at first, as A was sitting on Z's back. "Don't worry, Mom. It doesn't hurt," Z reassured me.

But my shirt was scarcely over my head before the real screams started. A had clambered over her sister and was dangling one of Z's books over the side of the bed, threatening to drop it. I warned. I counted. A stared me down. And threw the book.

So I put her in her own room and shut the door. After letting her howl for a few minutes and then cuddling her as she continued to cry, I asked her to show me how she was feeling in her book "How are You Peeling: Foods With Moods." She pointed to the sad, guilty looking vegetables with the most plaintive expressions. "Would you like to write Z a note? Tell her you're sorry?"

A nodded. She dictated the following note, which I transcribed and she signed and hand-delivered:

I'm sorry that I accidentally dropped one book. I'm sorry I pulled your hair. I'm sorry that I almost sat on your head. Thank you for playing with me on your bed. I'm sorry that I did all those things."

And to her credit, this is how Z responded: "It's OK. Just don't do it again. P.S. I might by a donut for you."

Not sure what makes me prouder. My children's capacity for apology and forgiveness or Z's correct use of apostrophe on it's? (It is cut off on the photo, but so very there.)

The first day of second grade

A new backpack.
A new lunchbox, which matches the backpack.
An outfit carefully selected and laid out on the bedroom floor the night before.
Hair brushed. Teeth brushed.
Breakfast? Barely touched.
Z jumped out of bed and began counting the minutes until we would leave the house and start the 15 minute walk to school. Every 5 minutes I got an update and a request to "leave now."

Finally, I snapped her picture and we joined two neighbor families for the inaugural walk. Z, flanked by a kindergartener she's grown up with and his 4th grade brother, led the way, beating us by a block.

The schoolyard was packed with parents, younger siblings, bulky bags of school supplies and teachers in orange safety vests. Z joined her classmates, saying "hi," giggling and bouncing up and down in line behind their 2nd grade teacher--a new hire and a Mister. 


Betcha tomorrow she'll want to take the bus.

Next week: 1st grade
Her first day of kindergarten
Her first day of school
Preschool's back in session
Her first day of preschool

Kids say the darnedest things

A has a new habit of holding one finger up next to her eye and saying "Smile!" She then makes a clicking noise and says "I'm putting that one on my blog."

Which is frighteningly reflective until she adds, "I have a real, grown up camera. It's pink and purple and shiny. And it has a blog in it. I put your picture on my blog. But you didn't smile very nice, so we should probably try again."

CDs for budding music fans

I've written before about our general embrace of the Kidz Bop franchise, and they've got another winner in Kidz Bop 20, their latest collection of PG-rated, kid-sung Top 40 tunes (think Now That's What I Call Music for the grade school set).

Z had been pestering me for months, asking when a new Kidz Bop album was going to come out, and she finally has it (and loves it). But before it hit stores, I was offered a review copy of another CD full of kid vocals, Star Rock for Kids. I wasn't sure Z would appreciate it given she hadn't heard any of the songs on the radio--or ever (the CD is a wacky mix of songs from the last few decades). But she proved me wrong, shutting herself up in her room and memorizing the lyrics to her new favorite songs and marveling that "this song was sung by an 8 year old...and 8 YEAR OLD!"

Here's her take on Star Rock for Kids.


She also did a video review of Kidz Bop 20, which you can view here.
And (if you are a blood relation), you might also enjoy A's presentation of her lullabies CD, inspired by her big sister's performance.

Disclosure: I received review copies of both Kidz Bop 20 and Star Rock for Kids. All opinions expressed are mine (or my child's).

The princess and her castle

Z was hard at work coloring in this piece of hand-me-down poster board when I arrived home from work yesterday. Details include a "queen with her baby," a drawbridge, a fountain, a "maid cleaning the roof" and various rooms visible through the windows.

The birthday party

"It's really fun being 4." That was the last thing A said before falling asleep tonight, and that's not surprising given the awesome day she's had.

It started with an early morning birthday gift scavenger hunt (a tradition I started on Z's 5th birthday) and ended with a girls-only dinner at Duckfat (Josh was rocking/broiling at Pitchfork) and an outdoor bath in the kiddie pool. In between there were chocolate-chip pancakes, finger and toenail painting time, a date with Mommy (we rode my bike to Red Hen and split a scone) and her much-anticipated birthday party at the River Forest Community Center (the same place we celebrated Z's 4th birthday).


Although the party had more than its share of wild older boys and bratty little girls (including one who said "I can't believe there isn't any pizza. That's weird."), the kids had a great time and no one got injured.

Oh, and the 36 vanilla cupcakes I'd made and frosted with purple buttercream Friday afternoon were delicious (if not as Martha Stewart-beautiful) as I'd hoped.





You can see all the photos here

A's previous birthday parties
A budget friendly birthday party in Berwyn
Cupcakes rule
Mmm... cake

Happy 4th Birthday, A

Dear A,
You've grown and changed so much in the last year, but you're still very much my affectionate little girl with her flair for the dramatic.

You've grown taller and your hair's grown longer and you've lost your baby chub, but you're still a peanut according to the AAP (you measure in the 5th percentile for height and the 25th for weight.


You've always been loud and dramatic and you figured out how to make believe at a young age, tagging along as a willing participant in your big sister's imaginary games, but now it's so much more intense. You can entertain yourself for 90 minutes all by yourself, and when others are around you, it seems every sentence that comes out of your mouth starts with "Let's pretend..." Only you pronounce it "pee-tend." Just this month I've watched you pee-tend to be animals (snakes, cats, and lions), a princess, an evil stepmother, a mean mommy, a nice mommy, a babysitter and a baby.


Your relationship with your big sister Z has become more complicated. While you still look up to her and want her as your constant playmate, you can't resist pestering her with a poke or a kick or a "what's that supposed to mean?" I thought it wasn't something you could help, but then I heard you advising another younger sibling "If she won't talk to you, you should annoy her."


This year was full of firsts for you. You started Montessori school, gymnastics and art classes and nurtured a large circle of friends--mostly girls. You can identify all the letters in the alphabet, count up to 20 and perform some very basic addition and subtraction. You can tell by the sound of the word what letter it begins with and you can spell some basic words on your own. You love to be given jobs, whether it is making my bed, grinding the coffee beans or pouring your own milk into your cereal. Nothing makes you more upset that hearing your sister swoop in to give the answer you're still formulating.

And you're brave! Without a tear in your eye, you yanked up your shorts for a shot at the doctor's office. You'll jump into the pool and go right underwater. You loved the thrill rides at Dutch Wonderland and would have willingly gotten on the large roller coaster had you been tall enough. You're not afraid of strangers ("Bad guys are just pretend," you've told me) or new situations, but flies, bees and spiders freak you out.

But the most you part of your personality is your outgoing nature. You'll strike up a conversation with anyone. Similarly-sized kids on the playground, your friends' parents, grandparents, the cashiers at Trader Joe's, doctors, dentists, babysitters and neighbors have heard your anecdotes, many of which you plunge right into without too much context. "We're growing sunflowers in our back yard. Come and see," you'll say to our next door neighbors as you grab them by the hand and lead them past the grill and into our back yard. "We're having burgers and pineapple on the grill. With big pretzel buns! Do you like hamburgers? We're growing so many things in our garden."

I remember loving age 4 with Z. I can't wait to see what you will bring to the coming year.

Similar
Happy 3rd Birthday, A
Happy 2nd Birthday, A
Happy 1st Birthday, Baby A

Interview with an (almost) 4 year old

In honor of A's approaching birthday, I conducted a casual interview over dinner.

What's your favorite color? My best favorite is dark purple.
What's your favorite animal? Unicorn.
Your favorite TV show? "Arthur."
What about your favorite thing to wear? Dress.
What's your birthday wish? A princess doll.
What do you like to do at school? Go outside.
What do you like to do at home? Dress up.
Who are your best friends? My bestest, bestest friend is Greta.
What do you want to be when you grow up? A mommy. Um, actually? A dentist.
Do you want to have children when you grow up? Uh, yeah.
How many children will you have? Five.
Boys or girls? One boy and four girls.
Pets? I am going to have a pet. A dog. Aren't you going to ask what my name is going to be when I grow up?
What will your name be? Tyna. What about what's my favorite thing to do at the pool? Play with toys.
What do you like about your Mommy? When I cuddle with you.
What do you like about your Daddy? When he lets me hug him.
And what do you like about your sister?  When she lets me kiss her. Ask about Oscar.
What do you like about Oscar? When he drinks water. What about birthday parties? Cake! No, wait, say cupcakes so that people know that I'm going to have cupcakes at my party.
Where are you going to live when you grow up? In Mexico. Will you visit me in Mexico? Maybe I'll be a grandma.
What's your favorite sport? Soccer, cause it's funner than basketball.
Is gymnastics more fun than soccer? I like both!
What would you like to do when you're four years old? I would like to ride in our bike trailer when we get it back.

Similar:
Interview with an (almost) 6 year old
Interview with 4 year old Z

Bad guys

My fearless child

This weekend Z came racing into the kitchen to tell me A was on the sidewalk, 2 houses away. I ran outside and shouted out her to come back, reminding her that she's not allowed to go outside without telling a grown-up and she certainly can't walk away from the house "without a big kid or an adult."

Carried away, I finished with "I need you to be safe. What if there was a bad guy out there?"

"Bad guys are just pretend!" A retorted.

Given that the kid's not even 4 yet, and I don't want to scare her with the terrifying but ultimately very remote possibility of encountering a "bad guy," I let that slide. But it might be time to check out that Stranger Safety video again.

Also from this weekend, the annual gym show!

Z leads the Super Mini Stars
A and the Young Mini Stars

The Learning Goal Fair

On the drive to the local elementary school after dinner, Josh complained he wasn't feeling well. He snapped at the girls, asking them to keep their voices down. I warned him that the volume in the car was nothing compared to what he'd hear at the Learning Goal Fair.

And I was right. Oh Lord, how right I was. The classroom was packed cheek to jowl as parents and other students (and their parents) squeezed through, gaping at the posterboard displays on Parts of the Butterfly, Square Foot Gardening, Flags of My Family and Justin Bieber. I was proud to see that Z's was one of the projects clearly completed with virtually no parental help. Some looked like Mom or Dad had done the bulk of the work.

Sick Josh bailed 20 minutes in and went home to crawl into bed, leaving me with a hyper 1st grader and a 3 year old beyond excited to join the big girls (Z and her similarly skinny and bright BFF) as they showed off their research projects and chased down their friends ("There's Gabe--let's go chase him!").

I'm not proud to say I actually lost the girls for about 10 minutes.

Still, I found them, brought them home and put them to bed by myself. Did I mention I got my mommy mojo back? Thank you 1-2-3 Magic.

Friendship

A has been driving us crazy with her temper tantrums, refusal to nap and general orneriness, but her friendships with other little girls are blossoming. [Focus on the positive. Focus on the positive.] Check out these snaps of her with one of her BFFs, Rachael. Not only is she a classmate, she's the younger sis of one of Z's best friends and soccer teammates.

Bring your kids to work...

Z with the McDonald's gang. "Who?" 

...And fill their bellies with junk and minds with TV commercials. What? Is that my working mother of the year award? You shouldn't have.

I brought in both girls for 3 1/2 hours of Kellogg's, Coke, Hallmark and McDonald's brand experiences (they're all Leo Burnett clients). The highlight of the day was the make-a-mess room where they could go bananas with finger paints, shaving cream, bubbles and silly string before cleaning up with the new Delta Touch faucet. The girls also got a kick out of posing on a green screen and getting themselves edited into a Coke ad.

A customizes a Pop Tart

The low point was the interminable waits for overcrowded elevators (a problem every year) and standing in an unmoving line for face painting. We finally bailed in favor of popcorn and slushies from the print room and mini chair massages before dad drove up to get them home. And I could get back to work. Real work, that is.

Bring your kids to work day 2010
Bring your kids to work day 2009

Rub-a-dub-dub, it's all fun in the tub

My 3 year old has quite the imagination. Even bathtime offers no respite from her nonstop talk-out-loud fantasies. Tonight all of the tub toys were lined up on the edge for some kind of elaborate game.

 

What's wrong with a good, old-fashioned spelling bee?

Maybe it's my competitive side, but I was disappointed to find out that my daughter's elementary school has replaced the classic spelling bee with something called "The Great Lincoln Spell Check." Unlike a spelling bee, which rewards the very best spellers with fame and glory (and their parents with pride and joy), the Spell Check requires students to solicit pledges from friends and family for each word they spell correctly on a grade-wide spelling test. And it's a fundraiser, of course, with the monies benefiting the school PTO.

We were given the 50 words all the first graders will be tested on and, while Z stumbled on 3 or 4 of them the first run-through, she could spell them all correctly within about 15 minutes. Which means I need to figure out how much I'm willing to donate to the PTO and divide it by 50 to come up with my pledge per word.

It's a bummer because Z's a fantastic speller and I know she'd kick some major spelling bee butt.

Art by Z: Hummingbird