Ants and Bugs

Last Sunday, warm weather returned to Michigan. The sun positioned itself right over the thumb knuckle of the mitten and stayed there all day. Every true Michigander knows the significance of this day. We have survived another winter. It goes without saying that everyone drops whatever they are doing or had planned for that day to find their way outside. Some will ride bikes, go to the park or visit the Detroit Zoo, but many with the practical mindset of a midwesterner will spend time in the yard. The silver leaf maples that line our street hold onto their last batch of leaves until it is too cold for anyone to venture out with a rake in hand. So there is much to do. Bobby, Julia and I spent the entire day outside. Bobby and I working and Julia riding her bike and playing.  After a few hours things were looking good. Bobby decided to tackle the assembly of his new grill. The box it was delivered in was monstrous. I asked that he not break the box down so that Julia could play in it. I told her my idea. She loved it and immediately started gathering things to put in her "house" as she called it. She's a nester. She takes the big umbrella that goes with her water table, and we position it in there. This she calls "the palm tree." She climbs out again, which is no easy task as the walls are high for an almost five year old, drags out her box of sidewalk chalk and says to me, "How do you spell no ants allowed? Well I know how to spell no, but what about ants allowed." I help her stretch those words so she can hear the sounds and together  we spell out her warning. A few more items and now she's ready to get in her house. Just as she is about to hurdle the thick cardboard wall she cries, "Mommy, there is a spider in my house!" I am able to grab the thin thread the spider is on and move it to another area of the yard. Before she gets in she drags the chalk box to a different wall of the house and asks, "How do you spell no bugs allowed." This time I write it nice and big in all caps for her. As I am writing she says, "I don't know why we are doing this. I don't think bugs can read anyway."

Which is Better 3 or 4?

Although I rarely admit it to her for fear that she may get carried away with herself my sister, Deanna, is the most fun mom I know.  She is imaginative and resourceful and invents the best games and contraptions. My sister has an uncanny knack to know exactly what a child wants. She indulges their every whim. With her own children she is able to find a balance, draw a line. With Julia, however, she has absolutely no adult filter. She is part aunt, part grandmother, part playmate and all LaLa (that is what Julia calls her). They are constantly in cahoots.  Julia's birthday is a little more than a month away, but Deanna already has her in birthday mode. It's all the talk at LaLa's house. The whole family was eating together the other night. After dinner, Deanna encourages Julia to go and get the birthday wish list that the one dictated and the other scribed. She retrieves it and perches herself in LaLa's lap. She starts and the first two items are fairly benign, Strawberry Shortcake sleeping bag and Play Dough. She gets to item #3. Her one dimple and half grin tell everyone who knows her that she is about to announce something absurd. "An IPhone 4." After assuring me that at five she really is ready for a phone, she explains that I too seldom allow her on my phone to play with apps I have loaded for her.  I look at Deanna who maintains that Julia, in fact, is the one who came up with the idea and then asked Deanna, "Which is better 3 or 4?"

 Deanna says I am lucky that she didn't tell Julia that 5 is close to launching.