How The Drive To Rochester Went

I realize that I haven't mentioned it.
Two major points:

(1) How do you tell if your child's motion sickness wristbands are not working?
When you find yourself taking them off his wrists because they are soaked in vomit, then you know your child's motion sickness wristbands are not working.

(2) 'Rocket Poo'. To coin a phrase.
This has nothing to do with velocity; it merely describes the Washington Monument-like form of what came out. In the grass in front of the hourly motel right next to the Mt. Read Boulevard exit on 490West in the city of Rochester.
And did I mention it was raining?
At least there was a dumpster nearby.

But that's OK. As we were getting back into the car Anna said to me: "Mommy, thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you!"

Believe me: I couldn't have come close to imagining this scenario without you, babe.

Deep Thought: Window Shades

(pointing to her eyelid...)
"Mommy, my eyes are like shades--they go up and down and make it light and dark."

Holding Out For A Hero?

Well... take your pick: Peter Pan after too much punch, or Robin Hood on a wayward steed?

Follow-Up Question

I'm betting that Anna has made her peace with my answer about what the. biggest. number is.
I'm betting this because the other day I was handing out snack at the park and evidently she had a thoughtful moment because she looked up at me and said:

"Mommy, why do the numbers keep going but the letters stop?"

Good Riddles, Jack!

This was Anna's parting shot as she slammed the bathroom door in Jack's face.
I think she meant "Good Riddance". I have no idea where she had heard this.

Jack and Thomas essentially pitch a tent outside the bathroom whenever Anna goes in there; I can't say I blame her too much for using such an invective.
The good news is that as of last week Jack has found a way to make up for his invasiveness.
As soon as he decides that she is going to be in there for a while, he brings her a book.

The first time this happened, Anna thanked him and told him he was "a very useful boy".

Jack "The Hose" Jamison

In this photo you can see the victim, but the perpetrator is cleverly hidden. Just like he likes it.

But this is not the perfect crime: notice the telltale green tubing coming from behind the little brick wall (aka 'grassy knoll').

Jack "The Hose" Jamison is behind this; we can be sure of it.
Go ahead: check out his record.

Untitled

The other day, Anna had to change her underwear at lunchtime. [No comment]
Her favorite colors are pink and purple.
Just a few days prior to this, I had purchased 6 pairs of pink and 6 pairs of purple underwear, and threw out all the old ones. (She had been telling me that the old ones were "stuck in her butt". Well, enough of that...)

Anyway, a purple pair happened to be downstairs . I grabbed them and gave them to her.
"No Mommy, I can't! Pink underwear is for the day, and purple is for the night!"

Oh. I see.

Try as I might, I can't escape the thought that this is exactly what Benjamin Moore must have been like as a child.

It's Not About The Bike

Lance was right about this one.

It's about the pink "strips" coming off your handlebars, the pink and purple bike helmet, the purple skirt you wear despite the fact that you have no fenders, and the pink water bottle, basket, and air pump that you really, really want for your birthday (think 'Pimp My Ride' for preschooler princess bikes).

And though this photo doesn't show it, it's also about the pink and purple beaded necklace and the pink bracelet you try to wear every time you go riding.

I'm not sure if that was what it was about for Lance, but in Anna's case: spot on.

She Don't Need No Education

Anna started two new classes at the Children's Museum today. One is called "Space Oddities" and the other is "Crazy Chemistry".
I personally was very excited about these classes.
I have talked to her about them for weeks. After class today I excitedly tried to pump her for details about what she had learned. I was sure that my three year old would come home and eagerly share with me the wonders of constellations and nebulae, baking soda and vinegar.
But try as I may, details were not forthcoming.

Until, that is, I had just finished tucking her into bed and said good night, and she rolled over, looked at me thoughtfully and asked

"Mommy, is there chemistry in space?"

ha ha ha ha ha.
And the depressing part is, I was already stumped.

And then as if I wasn't on precarious enough scientific footing, here are a few more things that she evidently had been wondering about since class ended at 5PM:
- Why can't we see our galaxy?
- Who put the continents in all the right spots?
- Who was on our planet before people?
- What is the butterfly that lights up in space called?

To which I answered, respectively, something along the lines of 'because we're in it, they just floated there, dinosaurs, and we'll look it up tomorrow...'

Earlier in the evening, Daddy had asked her about her chemistry class. She told him she learned about states.
So he said, "Oh! You mean solids, liquids, and gasses."
She looked at him like he was crazy and told him no, actually states are in countries.

(And evidently she knew this for sure because they had just gone over it in chemistry class.
I guess.)

Deep Thought: Grapes

"They're kind of like eggs, but they don't crack on the side of the tray."

About A Boy, Part II

So N. had his birthday party at summer camp last week, complete with a cake from Haagen-Daas. Anna was extremely impressed with the fact that they had "put the ice cream in the cake!". Neat trick, eh?

[cue sound of record scratching NOW]

And then she used the word boyfriend.
As in: Anna, what did you do at camp today?
"Oh, I went to my boyfriend's birthday party..."

She repeated this to at least two different people.

N. left for Spain last week. He'll be there for all of August.
N. also left a rose for Anna with our doorman.

And again I say, mojo.