In which Michael is my hero again

Yesterday evening I discovered that our washer wasn't draining properly. This is not good news, but I thought I knew what the problem was. It happened about five years ago, and the guy who came opened up the washer, unhooked the pump, and found a little bread clip that had gotten into it somehow. After removal, the washer worked perfectly. Of course, it was 5 minutes to do the work, and it cost $90. Fun. And of course, I couldn't remember -- after five years -- how he had done it.

Well, Friday night isn't the best time for appliance repair, so we waited until this morning to try to call anyone. The first company called back and said he didn't have weekend repair technicians. Now that we do cloth diapers, I wasn't looking forward to either waiting until Monday to do wash or going to the laundromat. I was about to start calling around for recommendations when...

Michael came up from the basement (where the washer is) with a rusty safety pin. HE FIXED IT!!! It's draining properly again, put back together again, and the diapers are clean.

Fires

Last evening, Michael made a fire in our fireplace. When Naomi heard what he was planning, she said, "I will look at the fire with my hands over my ears like this," and she demonstrated. Last year Naomi screamed and screamed about the fire Michael built -- "NOT THE CRACKING! NOT THE CRACKING!!" You try explaining to an overly-sensitive 3-year-old that a crackling fire is a cozy sound...For some reason, that was our one and only fire in the fireplace last year. It turned out, though, that she didn't mind the cracking this time. Thank goodness.

Simeon was fascinated by the fire. I'll have to post some photos, because he was so cute about it.

Hannah wanted to get the house as dark as possible for the fire, so went around turning off lights and closing curtains. Then Grandma (Michael's folks are here for a visit) mentioned that in Laura's time she would have been reading by the fire. Well, then Hannah had to be Laura and read by the fire. Then she wanted a candle lit. Then she and Naomi had to do their bedtime tooth brushing by candlelight -- Michael was in charge of the candle, of course. Then Hannah wanted to put on pyjamas by the fire -- because Laura and her sisters would bring their clothes to get dressed by the warm stove.

She headed up to get them from her room and I asked her to please bring Naomi's down, too. She said, "Okay."

To which Naomi responded,"Thank you, Laura."

Guessing games

"Guess what's in here!" says Naomi. She seems to have forgotten that I was the one who just put the cookie in the little bag and bought it for her.

"Um...carrots?"

"NO!! I'll give you a hint. It is flat and has chocolate chips." She is relishing the game -- she has a mischievous grin on.

"Chocolate chip pancakes?"

"NO!!"

"Chocolate chip waffles?"

"NO!! I'll give you another hint. It has eggs in it." It has never occurred to Naomi that in homes of people who aren't allergic, pancakes and waffles have eggs in them, too.

"Oh! A chocolate chip cookie."

"YES!" She smiles and flashes a glimpse of the cookie to me, looking triumphant, as if she was the one who just guessed.

A little while later, she says to Hannah: "Guess what's in here!"

Hannah saw the game happen earlier, but the full import of Naomi's younger age and different skill set hasn't set in. "A chocolate chip cookie."

Naomi, crestfallen, says, "You weren't supposed to guess it right away!"

I mildly comment, "Hannah, she's playing a game."

Hannah gathers that this is a formulaic game, rather than a competitive game.

H: Oh. Okay, I'll try again.
N: Guess what's in here!
H: Um...crackers?
N: NO!! I'll give you a hint. It has chocolate chips in it.
H: Oh. What about a chocolate chip bunny pancake?
N: NO!! I'll give you another hint. It has eggs in it.
H: Oh. A chocolate chip cookie?
N: YES!!

At this point, highly satisfied with herself and her female family members, Naomi decides to make an end to the game by eating the cookie.

Hannah’s first experience of science fiction

was not positive.  She gets Highlights magazine, and she LOVES it.  After it comes in each month, we don’t see her for a couple of days.  Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but she does love this magazine.  She saves all her issues and rereads them regularly. 

This issue, however, had a science fiction short story in it.  Hannah came to me with it and said, “Mom, this story is scary.  I don’t like it.”

I took a look, and it was about a space crash involving a human boy and his alien friend.  I gave Hannah a short explanation of science fiction literature, also telling her that some people like it and some don’t. 

“Well, I don’t.”

Then she began asking a bunch of questions. 

“Mom, it says that oxygen is as deadly to him as sulfur dioxide is to humans.  What’s sulfur dioxide?”

I explained.

“Well, is that what aliens breathe?”

Aliens don’t exist.

“Well, would they breathe it if they did exist?”

I don’t know.  

“But if aliens did exist, then we would be aliens to them!”

Good point.

“I’m not an alien!”

Another good point. 

She continued on from there, and only stopped when she’d gone through all of her beefs with the story.  I have a feeling that it’s going to be a long time before Hannah seeks out more science fiction…

Hannah’s politics

We’re approaching elections, which means that we get all kinds of fun stuff in the mail – flyers, brochures, more flyers – and Hannah loves to get the mail.  She usually brings it in and sorts it, making color commentary on some of them. 

A couple of days ago, she brought in the mail.  “Mom, what’s a toll?” 

I explained.

“Well, Mike O’Brien wants to toll all our streets,” she said, a trifle huffily.  Something tells me he’s not getting Hannah’s vote. 

Painting

We're having some trim on our house painted. This has led to some interesting things going on at our house. For example, out of nowhere, a ladder will appear at a window and then a face will pop up. The kids love this. Simeon is really pleased to see new faces outside the window. Hannah likes to run over and knock on the window and wave. Naomi likes to stand on a stool and watch.

Hannah and Naomi also like to go out and watch in the yard. Today, as I was finishing the last couple of things inside before going on errands, I told the girls they could get their shoes and coats on and go into the back yard until I came out. This is not unusual, but having the painters back there makes it all the more exciting.

As we were driving away, Naomi said that the painters had talked to her. "They said, 'Blah, blah, blah...Are you going to help?' So I said, 'No, thank you.'"

Um..."blah, blah, blah"? I think you need to reach a certain age before you're allowed to use that phrase, and 3 1/2 isn't it. But I'm taking comfort in the fact that she politely declined to help.

New Olympic Sports Needed

I will never be the highest jumper or the fastest skier, but if they had some more pertinent sports, I'm sure that I could win without trouble. For instance, fastest dishwasher loader/unloader would definitely go to me. Sim has developed a fond love of dishwashers, and he recognizes the dishwasher sounds. They call to him, and he comes at a great rate with a big smile on his face to help unload -- even if I'm trying to load -- or to climb in, if the bottom tray is not pulled out. I offer as proof the above picture from our visit to Michael's parents' house.

I've developed strategies for getting the dishwasher loaded and unloaded as quickly and quietly as possible. It may seem ridiculous to be loading and unloading at the speed of light, but that's my dedication to the sport.