Always Another Windmill

Zag had a rough night last night–sort of half woke up several times, distressed about something that I could never quite work out. I just settled and calmed him down, tucked him back in, and went back to bed myself.

This morning, he woke up upset and crying again. When I went, I asked if he had been having some bad dreams, and he said no, it was real. I asked what was wrong, and I finally got a clear answer:

“I don’t like miso soup on my cereal!”

Well, who would?

He was fairly interested when I explained to him that most people have milk on their cereal, and a few people like orange juice on their cereal, but that I didn’t know of anyone who had miso soup with their cereal.

Also: who’s been going around tormenting the kid with cereal with Miso Soup? Have you no decency?

The other morning, while his newly-ordained mama is at work:

Zag: Is God real?
me: That’s a great question for your Mama.

[a thoughtful pause]

Zag: Is she that kind of scientist?
me: ummm . . . . yes.

We now interrupt the festivities for a brief holiday message
from the Department of Homeland Security.

There’s no earthly way of knowing

How long it will go on snowing!

There’s no knowing how deep it’s growing

or which way the snow is blowing!

Not a speck of light is showing,

so the snowbanks must be growing,

though snowblowers keep on blowing,

and it’s certainly not showing

any signs that it is slowing . . .

(with apologies to Roald Dahl)

Well, I can now banish any worries of an insufficient experience of winter. Last weekend we were without power for several days on account of a nasty ice storm. We got power back on Tuesday, and then it snowed on Wednesday, and on Friday, and Saturday, and it’s been snowing all day today so far, and forecast to continue doing so into the night. Of course, they also predicted that it would stop snowing yesterday before the current storm came in. Instead, it just didn’t come down as fast today. We’ve had at least a foot and a half so far–at least 20 inches predicted, I suspect it will be more than that when we’re done.

Zag and I are excited about all the snow, I think WB and the dog are a little more ambivalent. We let the dog out to pee, and she stands on the patio, looking perplexed at the sea of white that has replaced her yard.

We all went out on our snowshoes for a brief excursion in the woods yesterday. Then Zag became ambivalent. He was very enthusiastic about tromping around n the yard in his snowshoes, but wasn’t very interested in going out in to the woods at all. Ah well, he wasn’t really interested in walking in the woods when we first got here either, but he eventually came to like it. Maybe he’ll get more interested in skiing?

I love it. I love the quiet of the world covered in snow, the soft white blanket everywhere, the warm feeling of being bundled up and working hard enough shoveling or tromping around to take off layers so as not to be too warm. I can hardly wait to get out on skis again and hear the quiet hiss of gliding over new snow, but first, I think it might need to stop for a little while.

Zag wakes up in the morning and comes in and snuggles with us for a while. Then he gets up and goes back to his room to play with Lego. He has to be pried away–sometimes physically–to get his diaper off. I dress him alongside the lego table most mornings. He must be coaxed away to eat breakfast. Then he goes back up.

This morning, I got him to play a different game with me for almost 15 minutes. He wants to eat his his snacks at the lego table. He wakes up from nap, takes off his diaper, gets pants on, and goes–you guessed it–straight to the Lego table, where he stays until WB comes home. Unless he just stays up there and calls for us to come up and play with him.

Everyone he meets gets assessed for their level of interest in Lego. And invited to come play legos with him.

I guess I know longer have to worry about how to keep him occupied all winter.

This is probably the first time in my life I have ever said this: Sometimes, I think, maybe, I might be starting to get just a little bored of playing with Lego.

I’m sitting here drinking a bottle of Thums Up, a cola beverage from India, developed as an indigenous replacement after the country kicked out the Coca-Cola company back in the 70’s (ironically, it was later purchased by Coca Cola in the 90’s).

Somehow I never noticed just how much it tastes like Indian spices. I can’t quite place it–maybe hints of some curry? coriander? Sometimes I think it tastes a little like sweet paan in a bottle.

Maybe at this point it’s just association from having had it with a lot of dosas. Whatever it is, it beats the hell out of any of the transnational colas.

. . . oh I guess it was me.

Anyone still here?

When Dr. Sears & all the rest have got you down, this looks like a promising antidote.

The Telegraph, Idle parenting means happy children:

“There is a way out of this over-zealous parenting trap, a simple solution that will make your life easier and cheaper. It will make your kids’ lives more enjoyable and also will help to produce happy, self-sufficient children, who can create their own lives without depending on a Mummy substitute. I call it idle parenting and our mantra is: ‘Leave them alone.’ “

(snip)

I will confess my many parenting errors. I am a disaster-prone, chaotic layabout and so should warn you not to listen to my advice. Certainly my friends say the idea of me advising other parents on childcare is absurd.

With that caveat in mind, let us go forth, throw away the rule books, forget what other people think and enjoy family life and all its joys and woes.

My approach to bedtime increasingly resembles this approach. I secretly suspect that the moment I really no longer care when he goes to bed or if he puts himself to sleep by shouting and singing loudly for 2 hours will be the moment that he starts falling asleep in 15 minutes.

Coversation at bedtime tonight, as I’m leaving the room to let Zag work out his squirming/kicking/thrashing/singing thing out on his own for a little while:

Zag: Don’t go!

Me: I’ll come back when you’re ready to stop fighting with me and you’re ready to try and go to sleep. I don’t want to lie in here and fight with you about going to sleep.

Zag (with a slight hint of incredulousness): You don’t want to fight with me?

Me: No.

Zag: Why not?

Me: I don’t like fighting.

Zag (really incredulous now): You don’t like fighting?

Me: No.

Zag: I like fighting!

Me: Yes, I had noticed.

James MacDonald on Making Light:

“It’s like Barack Obama saw his shadow and we’re going to have six more weeks of campaigning.”

It could be worse; we could be fated to repeat the last six weeks of campaigning over and over until the dems get it right.

So, in spite of all the recent outrage over comments and sermons made by the Pastor of the United Church of Christ church where Barack Obama has been a long time member, a recent survey by the Pew Center finds that there has been little reduction in the number of people who incorrectly believe that Obama is a Muslim.

There is little evidence that the recent news about Obama’s affiliation with the United Church of Christ has dispelled the impression that he is Muslim. . . . Nearly one-in-ten (9%) of those who heard a lot about Wright still believe that Obama is Muslim.

I suppose they must just think the UCC is some kind of Muslim church or something.

(Via Crooked Timber.)