jay-walker

"so which one of my daughters is jasper in love with?" inquired a small world father to me the other day.

i gave it a second’s thought, and found the answer with my smallest son, who at the moment was sitting on a girl’s lap.

"neither. jasper is in love with his life".

i know that sounds like an 80’s anti-drug commercial, but it’s true.

i started jasper in kindergarten with the hopes his language skills, concentration and independence would grow. the other day, i was talking with georgie and she said, "tess in the few short weeks that jasper has been at kindie, he is really paying attention during art and craft, i can really see a difference!"

his language skills are coming along, i hear him playing with his siblings and he is coming out with full sentences, "that’s my baby batman, sebastian", "give me the puzzle now, sela" "carys, you wash your hands and then dry them". so that’s all good.

but the independence is nothing that jasper amadeus caldwell, age three, wants to develop. he is an effective delegator. he realises that being happy gets him far more than being cranky does, and when he gets things (sweeties, laps to sit on, carried, coats put on instead of having to do it himself) it makes him happy, so he lives in a very happy self prophesising circle.

jasper loves singing and still claps, shimmies and sways when he wishes to. of my four children, he is most devoted to television, and most likely to respond when dora asks her viewers to repeat something. he hath hith little lisp, which is incredibly endearing and which will go away. (sadly for me..i do love it)

his breating is not great, he has five inhalers and to be totally honest, i have forgotten the difference in each one. what is the difference between bricanyl and ventolin? i think he will get away with not doing those 10k runs you have to do in gym class, and likely this will suit him very nicely. despite having a good throwing arm, jasper isn’t a sporty type.

this became apparent when the triplets started multi sport. while sela and carys were loving the concept of kicking the ball around the pitch, jasper sat down on the field and ran his fingers over the grass lovingly. the ball would go past him and he would point at the "ball!" and make no attempt to get it.

although he is loving school, it is the social aspect he is loving. i predict there will be a severe uprising and downward spiral in his attitude in a few years when he realises that school is more than just laughing, singing, clapping, and art and craft. working? "that’th not nice, mummy"

jasper can be not nice himself. he rebells cutely, (surprise)! if i ask him to do something, he will smile adorably and say, "no", and then do such a cute little dance you are laughing and sometimes i have caught myself clapping. clapping that he just disobeyed me? back up, please! seriously. he is very good at sliding out of chores and selectively hearing the commands that please him. and when confronted, smiling until he gets his way. i watch it happen. and i let it happen as well. too often, i admit.

he still loves to sing, and does that throatily. like everyone else who is under four feet, he gets upset if he thinks he has been given approval to sing a solo and someone chimes in. ba ba black sheep is still a firm fan favourite.

he had a haircut recently, and his hair is a blondey-reddish colour. his eyelashes are a bit darker, golden red. jasper lowers them and then looks at you out of the corner of his eyes with a rather devastating effect, and of course the smile is in place too. oh our little man. he constantly is bruised somewhere, big pulsing bruises accompanied by high wailing cries that are so diametrically opposed to jasper’s low pitched voice.

i sadly realise that while this time last year jasper was a bit of a mummy’s boy, that has changed. jasper gets up from a nap or comes home and asks, "where is my dad?" after giving me a cuddle. he really does love his dad. also different from last year is the relationship between sebastian and jasper. they are beginning to play more together, which i love to watch. sebastian has such a creative mind, and if his older brother suggests it, jasper is likely to get off his lazy bottom and participate.

on the playground when sebastian is playing with his friends, jasper will play with his sisters or some of the older girls, who enjoy having him around. jasper is very in touch with all things feminine, much to charles’ chagrin. he loves wearing his sisters dresses, sparkly shoes and hair clips and i let him help me choose my clothes some days, which he likes (he has a good eye).

beyond the musical, jasper has the gift of making people happy, as long as he is in a happy mood. if he is cross, he is a terrible cross to bear and an absolute pain to be around. but when happy, he is a lovely person to have on your lap and in your conversation.

jasper is very easy to love. over the next year our big job will be committing to following through on jasper’s quiet rebelliousnessness. wish us luck. not smiling and melting is the toughest bit. he is quite simply, printh charming.

five fingers, five years for seb

i received an email from "P", reminding me that my annual assessments of the four pillars of joy are either overdue or near due. yikes. so here you are.

STARRING: sebastian.

at five years old, sebastian sems to be on an exciting cusp. on the one hand, he wants to be little.he still prefers to play, has no interest in learning to ride a bicyle without stabilisers, and prefers a world of superheroes than sports heroes and teams. he tends to like kids younger than him, and possibly this is because of the environment he is around.

yet while he can appear so very young, sebastian sometimes asks questions that remind me he is no average five year old.

"mummy, why do i have to live forever in heaven? couldn’t i spend more time on earth and see more of it?"

his glance is cool and unflinching when he asks questions like these. he crosses his fingers carefully and looks at me. he can wait. no hurry with the answer.

he is adopting little "airs" and is trying them out at home to see the response he gets. crossing his arms and saying, "humph!" in a discontented voice. i love to see this. if i call him on it, "what’s this, sebastian?" he will get defensive, (arms will stay crossed) and claim his right to pique, or he will get a silly smile on his face that suggests he knows his is silly.

he seems to have few properly fitting clothes right now. everything is either hanging off him, or it’s wristbones and ankle bones several inches above fabric. he’s a carrier bag kid, either way, or a rapper, worse luck. next he’ll be dating whitney houston.

when procrastinating bedtime or some equally as unsavoury activity, he will get very amorous.

"i love you so very very very very very very much, mummy" he says, and comes toward me, to plant a kiss on my forehead, the tip of my nose, my cheek, my chin. at times i think he is heading toward my neck. and they’re lingering kisses too (lingering means putting off bedtime, good strategy!).

his hair is rapidly turning darker. there is nothing shiny blonde about his hair any more. it is a light brown. given that his eyes are my colour, i don’t know why it surprises me that sebastian’s hair is likely to turn my colour. i suppose i always thought of him as a blonde boy.

he can bully the triplets, push past them and declare their property his, but among his peers he is quite thoughtful. or as thoughtful as the next five year old, how’s that? he is popular amongst his friends. he has really come on socially in the past year. small world did that for him.

his accent is all over the shop. sometimes i think he sounds like he is from new york. he certainly doesn’t sound canadian, or american, but there are a couple of words, that when he pronounces them, come out SO manhattan. a friend raised her eyebrow and said, "be grateful it’s not bronx." you heard him on that cake making thing, he is all over. but he enounciates very carefully. i find that extraordinarily endearing.

sebastian still loves books and being read to. no big changes there since last year except this year he is reading, except…he doesn’t want to. too much effort!!!

his six pack and muscles are fantastic. what a little sinewy boy! so proud of him. he runs long distances and doesn’t get winded. sprints aren’t his thing, distances are. he is very much like his father. actually, he is very much like his father in many respects. people say he looks less like charles than he used to, but i have yet to see anything except his eyes (which may deepen unless they want to get bulgy like lyons eyes) that are too lyons-like. i actually think sebastian looks like his grandad doug more than he looks like charles. now, doug and charles are meant to be twins as well, but there are differences.

sebastian is still a daddy’s boy. mum is the disciplinarian, but also the one seb walks to park and shop with and who does neat things with him, but daddy is the hero of the house. seb loves his father. easy to do, really.

five words to describe sebastian? ( i will leave out lovable, etc.. you know they are in there)

honest

deliberate

shy

insightful

maths inclined

he is becoming such  a nice little boy. but he does have his drawbacks. right now, in no uncertain order:

1) he hums the theme song from superman INCESSANTLY

2) believes it takes 36 squares of toilet roll to wipe his bottom following a poopers

3)is a frightful tattle tale on his siblings

4) has figured out that if he sits up in bed and our bedroom door is open and we are watching television, then he can watch tv too. the other night we were halfway through the shawshank redemption and during a fight scene i heard him gasp.

5) has a very good memory and can remember when i said, "nobody is going to have another sweetie" and calls me on it five mintues later when i am licking chocolate flakes off the now empty wrapper. "but mumm-eh! you said…"

he has actually stopped calling me mumm-eh. i am often just "mum". wow. does the shortened name mean i have a diminished role in his life? i hope not, because sebastian blake caldwell is just gorgeous.

where do birds and bees come from?

"mummy, how did i come out of your tummy?"

this tantalising bomb dropped out of my son’s mouth the other day as we stood in the lineup at park n shop. the long lineup, naturally.

sebastian does not have a quiet voice. heads jerked up all around me and i saw smiles, rolled eyes, and conspiratorial glances, and some embarrassed looking men, all wondering how i was going to handle this one. i was wondering the same thing.

sort of like your life flashing infront of you right before you die, as my mouth emptied itself of saliva and i began sweating elsewhere, i frantically wondered why he was asking this question now. we had put rock melon, yakult, milk (was it the milk? a connection to lactation?) and biscuits (the type that people take when they have morning sickness?) into the cart. in the lineup, sebastian had asked me to tell him a story, and ding dong double damn it, i had been stupid enough to say, "when you were in mummy’s tummy, i used to come here a lot, it was a nice walk and it kept you and me healthy."

it wasn’t stupid though, how was i to KNOW he would ask this question?

as i often do in these progressing years, i asked myself (just as sebastian repeated the question in a louder voice), what frugal blake would do. divert, and go with a joke, i heard him whisper. i would give it a try.

i cleared my throat and looked into my son’s questioning, large and lovely eyes.

"ha ha, are you just asking me that because mummy’s tummy is so small and flat?"

"no" he said scornfully and crushingly, and the listeners behind me squinted their eyes and ducked their heads in an "ouch" sympathetic way. "i want to know how the baby gets out. i didn’t stay in your tummy, i came out. how, mummy?"

and then, before any recovery could be had, and before i could find a mirror and examine my obviously massive and droopy stomach, he hit me with another comment that shows he must be watching "A BABY STORY" (even though we don’t get that channel in hong kong). "did they cut the babies when they came out of you?"

"yes, yes, they did."

"did it hurt? what did they use? scissors?"

"no, they used a knife, and it didn’t hurt because they gave mummy some very nice medicine that made it not hurt." i considered expanding that sentence to include…."until i woke up and then it ached and the stupid morphine drip didn’t work and it was numb and screaming red hot at the same time" but didn’t think such honesty would benefit him at this time in his life.

caesarean sections. preferable to va-jay-jay delivery enlightenments, but still not a favourite topic, especially since the people behind me i felt were going to give me grades at the end of the discussion if it ever ended. however, young cub reporter sebastian still had questions. and while he can’t remember who he played with at school, he showed a stunning aptitude for getting back to the heart of the issue in this case.

"so, did they cut your tummy when i came out of your tummy?"

"well, no."

"so mummy, how did i come out?"

oh man. was this really going to happen now? if i so much as even mentioned the word va-jay-jay (and please know i have no problem saying the technical word and am teaching my children that word, i just don’t want any weird googlers), seb would be enchanted and listening. i couldn’t lie to him…my options were looking limited all right. learning about sex ed in the park n shop? that could get a therapists’ kid through braces and dental school.

suddenly, i remembered my friend jane, who recently had this discussion with her older son. i had a phrase. i stopped floundering and said calmly,

"well, sebastian, the mummy has something called a birth canal. and the baby follows that and that is how they come out."

he considered this statement, and i think found it quite boring. and then said.

"canal. like boats."

and as much as that gave me a visual image i can do without, i saw my window of opportunity and said, "yes, you went sailing last summer. would you like to go again this summer?"

"yes, i would like to sail with my daddy."

diverted, thank you God.

so, a momentary reprieve and i just hope that magnificent is around when sebastian next asks that question. i have given him the birth canal line, and mc will use it.

sail on, my friend

good times never felt so good.

isn’t he a little young to be asking that question? do i need to buy him an annoying book now?

despite a plethora of chores that need to be done, a last minute review of esme lennox for book club tonight, various cleaning and emails that need reverting, there is a post that needs to be written. a long overdue post.

in early january, denny doherty died.

who? do you mean the denny from grey’s anatomy? no, that’s denny ducuette.

denny doherty. from the legendary folk group the mamas and papas. and a canadian, i might add.

denny doherty. the mamas and papas.

california dreaming. young girls. dedicated to the one i love. dancing in the streets. dream a little dream…. those mamas and papas. great music, and to this child of the 80’s, great times.

i first became acquainted with the m&p when we bought a wood panelled station wagon in 1984 or so. are you jealous? it had a cassette player and came with a complementary tape that played the some early hall and oates, vera lynn, and the theme song to dallas, to which pam and i did our bust increasing exercises. (remind me to ask for my money back).

after even frugal blake got sick and tired of listening to the free tape, he decided to hit the bargain tape section and bought some 99cent specials. among them were the mamas and papas. graeme and i looked at each other and said, "who"? and made the predictable mama cass jokes, as she stood stolidly planted underneath a tree, sporting a knitted poncho.

blake looked at us and made some comment about "this is good music and the words are even better. better than you take my breath away, and i don’t know what to say. if rex smith has nothing to say, then he shouldn’t say anything instead of wasting five minutes singing that he has nothing to say. what a waste. this kids, is music."

and so it was. during that long drive up and down the mackenzie highway that summer, and through the canadian rocky mountains, graeme and i listened to the tapes, and began memorising the songs. he could match mama cass in hitting the high notes in "young girls", i should add. the mamas and papas, never played during the winter (took the car too long to warm up to play the tape, and besides, i walked everywhere, my parents NEVER gave me rides), were our summer songs, and we never forgot the words, graeme and i.

and we never have. every summer when i see him, we will do a little medley of 80’s songs, but we’ll always get a mamas and papas song in there. they are our history, they flow through us as effortlessly as we recall the lyrics to the songs. good times, good tunes. like with so many other things, frugal blake was right.

what can i say. i look back on the days in the car, and i moaned with my friends about how long and boring they were, but in hindsight, those cassettes were the 80’s versions of dvd players, and singing together brought the whole family together. wrapped up in the blue panelled station wagon, nwt license plate 174, singing together was security, togetherness and love.

denny doherty died in january, but left behind a legacy of great music and memories for me. his life and harmonies made for harmonious times in our car and teen years, and for that, i thank him. RIP, denny.

first day for jay

"thee you later" he said, with a wave and one more thing.

and that is how i left jasper on his first day of kindy. sitting on the floor, having just pulled out a mat, two cups, some beads and a spoon. charles and i had just ducked out for a minute, to let jasper get acclimatised, and he certainly did. rather quickly.

the first morning was quite exciting for everyone, but jasper. he woke up to sebastian saying, "today you come to my school, jasper! small world christian kindergarten!"

and his sisters looking at him rather resentfully, wailing routinely like the greek chorus they can be, "i did a poopers in the toilet, i want to go to miss gail’s school too!" (miss gail is the principal of small world)

he got dressed and had his backpack on a good 45 minutes before we were ready to leave. not his shoes or socks mind you (nor uniform!), but the all important backpack which, "i wear to big boy thcool." i didn’t bother wearing makeup, because the best offense is a good defense (when else to remember this but on super bowl monday?) my nose was getting runny, and i rarely wear makeup anyway, so why bother having pictures of this unfamiliar makeup if it was just going to be smeared with the tears i suspected were lingering too close to the surface? sebastian was uttering edicts and reminders, the girls were circling around me, grabbing my jeans and begging to come along as well, the phone was ringing, typical morning business…and on top of it all charles and i were trying to grab a moment to say, "when did this happen?" (at left, Jasper talks to mo and grandad blake, "yeth, grandad bake, i’ll athk about prethus metals at thchool, yeth I agree, buy low.")

a few pictures, and we were in the car, and sebastian was telling jasper (who was looking out the window and singing dorothy the dinosaur) where the bathrooms were. we parked at small world, and walked into the school, jasper  not wanting to run ahead, but not wanting to hold my hand, either. me wanting to hold his, but not wanting him to need to hold mine. holding charles’ instead. not making eye contact, but squeezing his instead. (left, tess and jasper getting out of the car.)

talking to sebastian’s teacher, i get waylaid and don’t drop off jasper for that all important first entry into the classroom. that might get him 20 years of therapy, but hey, there’s four kids in team caldwell, and each are important. i got something straightened out with sebastian’s delightful teacher and then hustled to jasper’s class, where he was already racing around. we took him to the lavatory, and then popped him back into the classroom. my friend denby, whose girls are in that class, had prepped her girls to be on the lookout for jasper and they greeted him warmly, which he lurrved. (surprise!) we stayed outside for a few moments, and then leaned into the classroom to say goodbye to jasper, who looked up, smiled, said his farewell and did one other thing. (left, miss gail, jasper and sebastian.)

and magnificent and i, caught up in parenting three other children, working, living and loving, never got the chance to look at each other and say, and i know so many of you can relate to this, and please answer me, "how did this happen? how did one kilogram become one kindergarten boy?"

and if you’re wondering what the one more thing jasper gave me with the wave was, it was a kiss.

Hop over to Charles’ blog to see yet more pics!

in-law/out-law

i wrote my sister in law an email yesterday, to her business address. in the "from" category i wrote, "evil s-i-l". my friend looked over my shoulder and said, "are you really?"

ithought about it and said, "nah, don’t think so."

in-laws have been a hot topic of conversation this past month. after Christmas, a girlfriend came back sporting a very nice pair of earrings. a gift from her husband  we inquired? no, she smiled, very happily, rather from her mother in law.

this was huge. her mother in law had sworn that she would never give any of her daughter in laws any jewellery, (maybe she was afraid of divorce?) so as unfair as it was to the sons and the sons children, she had said that the daughter would be the only one to inherit the jewellery.

yet here was my girlfriend, a daughter in law, at that, sporting a family piece, given to her by her mother in law. a piece that she will give to her daughter in law, or possibly to her daughter. who knows. but still. it was a huge gesture and we talked about it for ages.

the other day in the hot tub there was a not so nice in law story, we’ve all heard them. i’m already making notes to remind myself how good mils act for when my turn comes. and i already know how i could have been a better daughter in law. miscommunication is a tough thing, especially when you hurt the one who helped create someone you love so much.

and as i go through photos of my kids (i’m putting the digital ones into files) i see a lot of family pictures (not to mention family resemblances between sebastian and his caldwell relatives and i realise that although i am quite free (too free???) in sharing about frugal blake and lazy graeme’s tendencies, i don’t really say too much about the caldwell side of things. or possibly it is because i haven’t finished with the lyons side…goodness knows i could be busy there for a while.

and also, it would be a typical in-law thing to make snippy comments and goodness knows that i seem to do enough unintentional hurt already, so let me make an observation about my inlaws.

besides being physically similar, and having a very similar sense of humour, they also have one extremely appealing trait…a huge courtesy of helpfulness. every time i am with them i notice it. no matter how jetlagged i am, it always sinks through.  whether it is to carry your luggage in from the car or wash and hand tear the lettuce, they will offer to do it. always. i don’t have to look pathetic, i don’t even have to look at the luggage or lettuce, they just anticipate what needs to be done and offer to do it.

this may sound like a small thing, but it isn’t. to offer to do something once is a politeness, but this is a family trait of helpfulness, and all the caldwells, even the 15 and 17 year old, have this courtesy. they must be tired sometimes, but they always offer to help. and they have taught their daughters the value of doing so as well. they repeatedly offer to help. and it isn’t martyrdom.

in the party charles’ family threw for us last summer, charles’ sister and her two girls raced round to the store to buy extra food because everyone was having such a good time no one wanted to leave. i was completely oblvious to this all, but they were there in the background, making sure everyone was having a good time. charles’ dad was grilling like he was from australia, and the brothers in law were generous with drinks and conversation. eveyrone made an effort. charles’ other sister brought everyone into groups. and who do you think cleaned up?

i should appreciate them publicly. magnificent suggested that i don’t go overboard with the praise and comments, and given some of my previous faux pas, i will take his word on this one, and focus on their kind generosity. which makes a massive difference. i don’t think i am effortlessly generous like they are, because i have to be jolted out of a reverie and think, "oh wow, that looks heavy, i should help", whereas they just seem to say, "can i help?".

that helpfulness is so appreciated and impressive.

so there we go, i am outing the inlaws.

the price of properly placed poopers

since september, earlier even, jasper has been our most reliable child on the toilet. like every other child on the planet, he waits until the verylastsecond to go, but i can count on him to scrape back his chair, and race into the bathroom with the comment, "i need to wee" or "i need to do a poopers". minutes later, hands dripping wet, he will re-appear, and if he has indeed done a poopers, spread his appendages like a pulled over suspect on a los angeles highway, and request a bum wipe.

then it is time for a sweetie. if the hands are still wet the sweetie usually makes vulgar colours all over the hand, which get licked off over time. depending on the sweetie, it could also become sticky. but, i am a mummy who bribes and i must live with these consequences.

the point is, jasper uses the toilet.

and because of his dependability, jasper is going to start school on monday.

big boy school.

imagine.

jathper.

at thcool.

he is very impressed and has started the countdown, although the days are in no way accurate.

me, i am having a minor meltdown of no small proporations. school. i am HUGELY ready for jasper to go to school, especially small world christian kindergarten, but still, jasper. his mind being filled with other opinions and books that i won’t know where they came from. friends i won’t be too familiar with! i went through all this with sebastian. i felt excluded at times when he would hum a little tune while in the bathtub and for the first time in his life, i couldn’t sing the song with him.

will jasper be the same as sebastian?

"what did you do today?"

nothing, mummy.

"who did you play with?

i forget.

how can he possibly forget when i will be gnashing my teeth wanting information? and there is only so much you can harass a teacher. and only so many different ways you can ask the same question.

jasper, starting out, building his own little world.

we’re hoping this will be impetus for his sisters to STOP filling their nappies during naptime. they would love to be going to sebastians’ school (even though sebastian has told them time and time again of the things they cannot do when they are at small world kindergarten, and he says it in a particularly righteous, knowing voice) and even though they don’t poo their knickers, they do poo their nappies…which bothers me…and hopefully this sending jasper off to school will show them that we mean business.

stay tuned for monday. jasper. oh my.

throw baby from the plane?

"not everyone is going to find your son as enchanting as you do".

this statement was calmly spoken to me across the lunchtable. i was seven months pregnant with sebastian, and the author of the sentence is a good friend, with children in their teens. i had asked her for some parenting advice, and she had passed over the typical stuff about treasuring each moment, and came out with this bombshell.

not everyone was going to find my little, $10,000 illegal immigrant completely captivating? the thought seemed impossible, but if my friend said so, i was willing to listen further. i leaned forward, (thus enabling myself to grab another breadstick from the basket), and requested that she share more.

"when your baby becomes a toddler, you will go to a restaurant. and he will pull himself up and be staring at the person at the table behind him. maybe trying to start a conversation. or passing toys, paper, crayons, who knows. some people may find that enchanting, but the majority will be very content to have a small conversation with him, and then are going to expect you to keep him away from them."

although mild protests about it taking a village were swirling around in my head, i did see the sense in the comment. and i was the first to admit (and still am), that although i like kids, and find them fascinating, there are times when i don’t want to be interacting with them.

apparntly, 92 percent of the population agrees with me. 92 per cent? that is the number of positive letters that airtran airlines has received since their 22 january forced removal of elly (the princess) and her parents, julie and gerry.

the parents handled the incident the way they thought best, and let’s face it, not all of us are at our best when there are glowering observers, all with advice at the ready. but to misquote bon jovi (and who doesn’t?) folks like them, who give all the power to a three year old, "give parents a bad name." i have worked my j-lo off trying to get my kids to understand boundaries, the ramifications of choices and all about obeying authority figures. it’s not easy, but i do it. because they need to learn, for so many reasons.

apparently julie and gerry, who contacted the press to make them aware of what they considered air tran’s horrific and underserving actions, are stunned at the public’s support of the airline’s action and public comments about how their daughter (who probably is a perfectly nice little girl), deserved to be thrown from the flight for "being such a brat" (cnn’s words, not mine).

obviously, julie and gerry were never given the nugget of advice i received, and have never forgotten since that day i first heard it in 2001 ~ not everyone will find your child as enchanting as you do.

falling short of the mark?

i have had a couple of reminders in the past few days that jasper, sela and carys are not your average almost three year olds.

friends of ours just returned from Christmas vacation. we spent some time with them and they had their 2.5 year old son over at our place. the kids were all standing around being kids and suddenly our friend noted, "was our son taller than your kids when we left on holidays?" we said we werent sure.

"’cause look at him now!" said the father. sure enough, their sweet son, who is 8 months younger than our kids, is a good two inches taller than my youngest three.

jasper, sela and carys will be three next month. and i cannot think of them in terms of adjusted age anymore. this is them. we’re getting a clearer picture of what the limitations will be. and since several of you have been asking, here is an update.

carys is starting speech therapy soon. she is going to need grommets as well, we think, and a good deal of her speaking problems seem to come (in my professional opinion) from her adenoids or around that area. she still is stiff on one side of her body and she still swings and drags her right side a bit when she runs. she is in about the third percentile for growth and weight. she is being reevaluated for cognitive therapy. her stacking skills are getting better but she still cannot identify a lot of the things the doctor said she should be able to or hold a pen or draw as well as she ought to.

sela is doing well, her language development is good and she is very interested and aware in the world, although her overinflated opinions as to her importance still exist. i don’t have a lot of concerns for sela.

jasper, hard to say because what is inability and what is laziness? and sometimes when i should be urging jasper along and helping him to learn them by making him do things himself (ie:putting on his socks_) he takes so long that i just do it for him. i don’t think he needs speech therapy, his lisp will go away in time and we don’t encourage it. (which is tough because it is very cute). he is also being reevaluated for cognitive therapy, and i will not be surprised if they say he needs extra lessons as well.

the growth thing bothers me a bit, a lot….it bothers me indeed. not that basketball scholarships were part of the plan, and not that i pay a lot of attention to those magazines that state that taller people make more money and get better jobs, etc, the height thing is a reminder to me. they’re still behind. they’re not normal. they’re still preemies.

the dr is saying that they should all take a growth hormone that will give them a couple of inches, but still they’re not predicting the girls will be taller than 5’5. and jasper, 5”7. my own little tom cruise. how glib. the hormone will delay puberty, which will cause it’s own problems, remember the teen years when the slow developing girls weren’t wearing bras and getting teased about it? and then the boy whose voice was the last to crack was getting laughed at or told to sing with the girls in the soprano section (by the teacher!)

and it could be so much worse. you’ve seen the pictures of them racing about and hear the frustration in my writings…you can tell they are perfectly normal two year olds in many senses of the word.

so why is height one of my shortcomings? 

she said, he said, she said, he said

remember the childhood game chinese whispers?

(probably it has been renamed in canada for political correctness reasons, but as kids we used to call it chinese whispers. you sat around in a circle, one person made up a sentence, whispered it into the next person’s ear, and then that person whispered it to the next person, and so on until the last person said the sentence aloud, and it was very different from the original sentence and there is a moral there somewhere.)

my kids seem to have their own version of that game. they have started their own lyrics, and versions of just about everything.

in the great movie (which will probably be remade with jessica simpson soon) THE ARISTOCATS the cats all sing a rousing little tune called, "everybody wants to be a cat". my children have taken it upon themselves, spearheaded by young sebastian, i should add, to re-write the song so it is,

"every party, every party, every party

wants a cake."

and as ding-dong double damned certain as i used to play and replay michael jackson’s thriller, the kids sing and re-sing that song. especially when hyper. they really sing it well at that time, particularly when one collapses into giggles and then, broken off from the song, interrupts and says, "no, wait for me, guys!" in an increasingly louder tone as the siblings choose not to.

*******

they also bastardise my words. i say, "jasper, if you do not wash your hands, you are choosing to disobey me and i will discipline you."

and he walks down the hall (jasper rarely runs unless he is coming to collect the m&m’s i give him when he does a poopers in the toilet) and says, "cawis! thela! mummy thays that thee ith going to thpank you in the feet if you don’t wash your hands."

did i?

and then carys will turn on sela, "sela! mummy going to give you time out if you don’t wash hands."

sebastian, who has been playing and yet eavesdropping very carefully, will at this point come and get me. "mummy! none of jay-jay, sela and carys have washed their hands. i think you need to discipline them all." then he will tug at my hands and lead me toward the playroom, "they’re in here," he’ll add helpfully.

"thank you sebastian" i will say in what i hope is a calm, cool, voice. i can handle it from here. and i move away from him and edge him out of the playroom."oh," he says, all disappointed."well make sure you tell me everything that happened." he’s very interested in the dispensation of justice. i think when he grows up he’s going to want to marry nancy grace.

they’re changing words in sentences, and it gets the original speaker angry, whether it be ME or one of their fellow siblings. it’s kind of fun to watch them turn on each other when one of the grammatical errors occurs.

"i didn’t say that, naughty! you’re naughty!"

"yes you did."

"i’m very cross!"

and then they try to bring in the third party to settle the debate, which works okay if it is sebastian, but if it is another two year old, completely futile. the situation has to be carefully managed from there, because of the rapid discentegration and quick turn to tears that seems to happen in our home.

who said things would get easier once they started talking?