I have a little story to tell you. It's not about how Bridget is turning out to be possibly even *more* stubborn than her sister and is somehow surviving off of an ounce or two of milk at daycare every day-- that story is for another day. (But because I don't want anyone to be concerned, I will say that she's making up for it in the evenings and seems to be still growing well.)

This story is about Louisa. And my patience. And my dad.

You know how all kids go through a phase where they ask "why" about everything? Why is the sky blue? and why is fire hot? and why do we toast our waffles? and why is it dark? and why is it bathtime? and why? why? why? Some of the questions are reasonable and easy to answer. Sometimes it's clear that she doesn't really want an answer at all and she's just talking. And sometimes I find myself trying to explain condensation to a three-year-old, and I'm all 'well, the air is warm and the water in the cup is cold, so-" and she's all, "why is the air warm?" And them I'm like, "well, it's August so it's hot outside and--" and she says "why is it August?"" and then suddenly I'm supposed to explain the Gregorian calendar to her? Please!

But you know, I respect her curiosity. So I wanted to come up with some response to the constant 'why's that was sort of a non-answer but that didn't seem like I was shutting her down completely.

OK, so here are several facts about my dad: he's really smart, he knows a lot, he is very good at explaining complicated things in simple terms. Oh, and he's probably Louisa's favorite person in the world.

Right. Bear with me, here, I'm circling around to my point. Well, tonight we tried to go up to the American Tobacco Campus to hear some music. It was a total mob scene. There were so many people there that we couldn't really get into a good spot where we could sit down and here the music and see the band. Apparently everyone else in Durham also thought it would be fun to go let their kids run around in the grass. There were seriously SO MANY kids there.

Recently, we've been talking a lot about Durham schools and trying to think ahead to where we're going to send our girls to school when the time comes. It's not an easy thing to figure out- the testing results are hard to interpret, it's difficult to know which factors are most important in choosing a school, and even if we identify a school that seems great, there's no guarantee that we'll get in to it.

Anyway, so we're watching all these kids run around, and it gets me thinking about how there are really a lot of kids in Durham. So I look at Bill and I say, "where do you think all these kids go to school?" And he shakes his head and says, "that's a good question," which is a pretty good answer for an unanswerable question. And a moment later, Louisa pipes up and says "Mama, that's a good question for Grandpa."

I guess she does listen to me after all.
[Edit]And Dad, sorry if we set you up to be the receiver of impossible questions. But if anyone is up for the challenge, I know you are! :)

Where Is My Mama?

So the final weekend of my maternity leave is coming to a close. I don't officially go back to work until Wednesday, but Bridget begins daycare tomorrow. My baby!! 12 weeks old and going to school! (sniff, sniff)

And my other baby? She had a very exciting weekend. Photos to come of when Louisa got to meet Dora (the explorer) at a birthday party yesterday. But one of my favorite moments was when she was reading a book to herself in the car. I actually managed to capture it (she didn't know I was taping her). I've gone ahead and transcribed her words, because I think it's great, and it might be hard to hear it all exactly on the movie.

(I'm not sure why the movie is showing up twice, but the top one should be the one that works.)



'Are you my mama?'

He said, 'I'm a cow! I'm not your mama. I'm a cow!'

He was not his mama, and he was not his mama. He was not his mama, and he was not his mama. Did he HAVE a mama? 'No, where's my mama?'

He looked [unintelligible] and sad. 'Where's my mama? I want my mama!' He saw something.

'ARE YOU MY MAMA?' and he said, 'are you my mama?' and he didn't see something. He looked...

... 'I love you!' It go upper! And upper!! 'STOP!! Stop!' and then it stopped!

'Mama! I need you!!' and then he-- he did it louder and louder. And he dropped.'Mama! I get you something to eat.'

And he was not his mama, and he was not his mama, and he was not his mama, and he was not his mama...

Kitchen!

Here's a slideshow of before and after photos of the kitchen. The before photos are a mishmash of shots that happened to have been taken in the kitchen, so some are pretty old but they show the difference pretty well.