There is a lot of focus in our society on princesses. The toy aisles are lined with pink proclamations of childhood royalty. According to to Merriam-Webster, a princess is archaically defined as a woman having sovereign power. Other definitions include "a female member of a royal family", "the consort of a prince", and "one likened to a princess. Especially a woman of high rank or of high standing in her class or profession ". "Examples: 'She's just a stuck up princess'." "Synonyms: goddess, diva, queen".
Really?
Lilah truly despises the Disney Princesses in all their forms. From Cinderella to Tangled, we've tried them all. The only one she perked up at was Beauty and the Beast. I'm not sure Belle counts - the well-read, intelligent, spirited young woman with the courage to stand up to a beast of a man everyone worships to protect the kind soul she sees inside of a monster. She was a princess in word and deed, but like many today who would exhibit all of the same admirable qualities, she was shunned by her town. They easily acknowledged her beauty but dismissed her as "rather odd".
This "princess" mentality the little girls have today is something I'm trying hard to shelter my daughter from. In Eloise at the Plaza, Eloise remarked that her mother was the most sought after woman at the debutante ball, "because she had grace". When did we trade in grace, gentleness, compassion, modesty, intelligence, and self-reliance for this entitled attitude?
I prefer the archaic definition of the word - a woman of sovereign power. While waiting for the traffic update on my way to work, I was forced to listen to Taylor Swift's "Love Story". In a ritualistic slaughter of Shakespeare, she recounts being young and in love. The girl pines and wastes away waiting for Romeo, who eventually shows up, dazzles her with a ring, and tells her, "I love you and that's all I really know." Is that enough? No. Not even close. There's no effort put forth, no work at a relationship, no mutual respect. I was disgusted by the message and prayed for some kind of explosion or breaking news to interrupt. And while I agree that Lilah's eventual "Prince" (or "Princess") should treat her like royalty, no daughter of mine should pine away in a tower, helpless until rescued.
In reality, there is no "Prince Charming". There might be half a dozen, depending on what path in life she chooses. There's no magic man to solve all your problems for you. In the best case scenario, she will find a partner to hold her hand through the tough times, cover her eyes during scary parts of movies, shake some sense into her when she's being unreasonable, and love her for the Beauty she really is. Even in A Knight's Tale, Will takes all manner of abuse to prove his love. To the point of death or physical injury, he places himself in harm's way to show his Lady he was sincere. Now, had she been in danger and he was willing to place himself between his Lady and the offending force, it wouldn't be so wrong. But the fact she makes him put his life on the line for her own personal sport disgusts me. That's not love. That's spoiled entitlement. Those aren't the values we want our daughter to have.
To be a Disney Princess, Lilah Rose would have to have an impossible waistline, dress provocatively, sing beautifully, and suffer endless evil persecution until the day her Prince rides in on his white steed to rescue her. Oh, and all before her 18th birthday, mind you. In reality, we'd love her to be more like Eloise - a spirited hellion who values honestly, romance, integrity, friendship, courage, beauty, and grace. "I'm Eloise. I'm six. I am a city child. I live at the Plaza." I'll close with the line from A Little Princess. When asked if there were really princesses, her Indian friend Maya tells Sarah, "All women are princesses. It is our right." I agree. We have a right. But we also have a responsibility.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Chicago
We spent New Year's weekend in Chicago this year. It was a much needed relaxing end to a very long and busy holiday season.
The drive there was uneventful. We left after I got out of work. Lilah colored and read stories in the back seat, asked to get out of her seat a dozen times, chattered nonsensically for awhile, then fell asleep. We made it there with very few hitches (barring paying our toll with a 20 dollar bill and getting back almost 18 dollars in "pirate money" gold dollar coins).
We decided to exchange gifts that night, keeping Lilah up until nearly 1am. In the morning, Ann and I took Lilah via public transportation to Michigan Avenue for a special girls only afternoon. She was dressed to match her Bitty Baby in cream dresses, blue tights, and cream berets. Lilah had her red wool pea-coat on as well and looked tres extraordinaire. While on the L, a couple of people in our car lit a joint and smoked up the place. I was irritated, and multiple people pointed out to them that there was a child in the car, but they didn't acknowledge anyone else. A man got in to help a handicapped woman off the train and smelled the car. He made short work of locating the offending individuals. He had a few stern words with them (which they laughed off), called it in on his radio, and got off. Thankfully, they didn't light up again. Lilah on the other hand, was lulled to sleep (whether by a lightheadedness I shared with her or the gentle rocking of the train). We hopped off the L, put her in her stroller, and walked toward Michigan Avenue while the busy world of Downtown Chicago honked, beeped, and sped around her. She never even flinched.
Ann and I explored the Water Tower Place while Lilah slumbered away. Our final shop was Candyality. Lilah finally opened her peepers and looked around in awe. We wheeled her sleepy self to the American Girl Place where her eyes got even wider. She couldn't believe the dolls, clothes, accessories, and general atmosphere of the place. She held Eloise the doll tighter and took it all in. We got on the elevator to go to the lower level and Lilah lost it. Instantly overwhelmed with visions of everything a little girl could want, she watched the cold metal doors of the elevator close that world off to her, in her mind forever. She dissolved into hysterical sobs. Grannie Annie tried to comfort her and we both assured her we weren't leaving. She was immediately cured as soon as we got to the second floor.
We checked in with the hostess and were ushered through double doors into the cafe. It was a beautifully bright room full of natural sunlight, black, white, and burgundy decor, and various Christmas trees elegantly decorated. We were seated at our table. Lilah was confused and enchanted by our waitress who gently took Eloise from Lilah's arms, placed her in a chair of her own, and seated her at the table. The care those employees take with the dolls and the little girls who love them amazes me. She brought us two pink lemonades, a pomegranate juice and champagne for Ann, and a tiny teacup and plate for Eloise. Lilah squealed delightedly and proceeded to "feed" Eloise. We were presented with a plate of warm cinnamon rolls with icing. As soon as we were finished, that platter was replaced with attractively prepared veggies, strawberries, cheese, and pretzel rolls with dipping sauces. Lilah Rose immediately pounced on the food and demanded a celery stick for Eloise. Our entrees arrived when we were ready for them. Lilah was allowed a bowl full of baked macaroni and cheese (a treat for the lactose intolerant) and star-shaped fruit skewers. When she'd eaten as much as she could hold, she and Eloise took a stroll around the cafe to admire the other girls in their pretty dresses and the dolls who smiled silently beside them. Finally, dessert came - a sugar cookie with pink icing, a tiny flower-shaped angel food cake with delicious white icing, and a flower pot with chocolate mousse and a tiny daisy.
I caught Lilah neatly packing the tiny plate and cup into a bag to take home. She was very sad to learn they weren't hers to keep. We whisked her from the cafe. I hoped I could distract her with shopping. I told her she could pick one thing to take home for her or Eloise. She ran to the first display case she saw. I figured she was just easily distracted, but I noticed that she was picking up items, inspecting them, and putting them back down. She was looking for something. Finally, her stopped breathing for a moment, then squealed in victory and held up her prize. In a plastic case were four pink plates and four teacups, just like the ones in the cafe. "Is this what you want to buy? Do you want to take this home?" She didn't verbally respond. There was a lot of squealing and dancing about. Ann picked up a tiny chair like the ones from lunch and asked if Lilah wanted to take a chair home too, as another Christmas present from Grannie and Grandpa. Again, no words. Just happy noises. We toured the stores and made our way to the nursery. Lilah saw all manner of dolls, toys, and clothes. She was very excited about seeing and touching everything. Since she'd chosen such a small present, I asked her, "Lilah, do you need anything else? Is there anything else you want to take home?" She grinned at me. "No, I don't need anything. I'm so happy." I was so proud of her.
We took the L home. For most of the time we were on it, there was a street preacher who "had a word" and was making sure everyone knew it. He moved from one end of the car to the next, shouting and gesturing. Some in the car shouted "amen"s and "preach it, brother"s back. Others shook their heads or wrung their hands uncomfortably. He went on about a "Jezebel spirit", and that not every woman was a wife. Women were better in the Bible when they were happy to eat the crumbs that fell from the master's table. Lilah was very curious about the proceedings. I was less than thrilled with the message of doomsday and sexism.
She kept asking questions. "What'd he say? What's wrong with him? Whaaat?" Finally, when he paused for a breath, Lilah informed me, "He shouldn't yell at people." I wholeheartedly agreed with her.
On the bus home, she was prattling on about her new cups and plates. She waved them in front of a man to show him how great they were. He chuckled. "My youngest daughter is 29. I have 4 grandsons. Didn't know little girls still played tea party anymore." I smiled and kissed her head.
"I'm not sure. She does though."
All in all, it was an excellent weekend sampling a little bit of what Chicago had to offer a toddler well on her way to being a wise little lady well-equipped to handle the world around her.
The drive there was uneventful. We left after I got out of work. Lilah colored and read stories in the back seat, asked to get out of her seat a dozen times, chattered nonsensically for awhile, then fell asleep. We made it there with very few hitches (barring paying our toll with a 20 dollar bill and getting back almost 18 dollars in "pirate money" gold dollar coins).
We decided to exchange gifts that night, keeping Lilah up until nearly 1am. In the morning, Ann and I took Lilah via public transportation to Michigan Avenue for a special girls only afternoon. She was dressed to match her Bitty Baby in cream dresses, blue tights, and cream berets. Lilah had her red wool pea-coat on as well and looked tres extraordinaire. While on the L, a couple of people in our car lit a joint and smoked up the place. I was irritated, and multiple people pointed out to them that there was a child in the car, but they didn't acknowledge anyone else. A man got in to help a handicapped woman off the train and smelled the car. He made short work of locating the offending individuals. He had a few stern words with them (which they laughed off), called it in on his radio, and got off. Thankfully, they didn't light up again. Lilah on the other hand, was lulled to sleep (whether by a lightheadedness I shared with her or the gentle rocking of the train). We hopped off the L, put her in her stroller, and walked toward Michigan Avenue while the busy world of Downtown Chicago honked, beeped, and sped around her. She never even flinched.
Ann and I explored the Water Tower Place while Lilah slumbered away. Our final shop was Candyality. Lilah finally opened her peepers and looked around in awe. We wheeled her sleepy self to the American Girl Place where her eyes got even wider. She couldn't believe the dolls, clothes, accessories, and general atmosphere of the place. She held Eloise the doll tighter and took it all in. We got on the elevator to go to the lower level and Lilah lost it. Instantly overwhelmed with visions of everything a little girl could want, she watched the cold metal doors of the elevator close that world off to her, in her mind forever. She dissolved into hysterical sobs. Grannie Annie tried to comfort her and we both assured her we weren't leaving. She was immediately cured as soon as we got to the second floor.
We checked in with the hostess and were ushered through double doors into the cafe. It was a beautifully bright room full of natural sunlight, black, white, and burgundy decor, and various Christmas trees elegantly decorated. We were seated at our table. Lilah was confused and enchanted by our waitress who gently took Eloise from Lilah's arms, placed her in a chair of her own, and seated her at the table. The care those employees take with the dolls and the little girls who love them amazes me. She brought us two pink lemonades, a pomegranate juice and champagne for Ann, and a tiny teacup and plate for Eloise. Lilah squealed delightedly and proceeded to "feed" Eloise. We were presented with a plate of warm cinnamon rolls with icing. As soon as we were finished, that platter was replaced with attractively prepared veggies, strawberries, cheese, and pretzel rolls with dipping sauces. Lilah Rose immediately pounced on the food and demanded a celery stick for Eloise. Our entrees arrived when we were ready for them. Lilah was allowed a bowl full of baked macaroni and cheese (a treat for the lactose intolerant) and star-shaped fruit skewers. When she'd eaten as much as she could hold, she and Eloise took a stroll around the cafe to admire the other girls in their pretty dresses and the dolls who smiled silently beside them. Finally, dessert came - a sugar cookie with pink icing, a tiny flower-shaped angel food cake with delicious white icing, and a flower pot with chocolate mousse and a tiny daisy.
I caught Lilah neatly packing the tiny plate and cup into a bag to take home. She was very sad to learn they weren't hers to keep. We whisked her from the cafe. I hoped I could distract her with shopping. I told her she could pick one thing to take home for her or Eloise. She ran to the first display case she saw. I figured she was just easily distracted, but I noticed that she was picking up items, inspecting them, and putting them back down. She was looking for something. Finally, her stopped breathing for a moment, then squealed in victory and held up her prize. In a plastic case were four pink plates and four teacups, just like the ones in the cafe. "Is this what you want to buy? Do you want to take this home?" She didn't verbally respond. There was a lot of squealing and dancing about. Ann picked up a tiny chair like the ones from lunch and asked if Lilah wanted to take a chair home too, as another Christmas present from Grannie and Grandpa. Again, no words. Just happy noises. We toured the stores and made our way to the nursery. Lilah saw all manner of dolls, toys, and clothes. She was very excited about seeing and touching everything. Since she'd chosen such a small present, I asked her, "Lilah, do you need anything else? Is there anything else you want to take home?" She grinned at me. "No, I don't need anything. I'm so happy." I was so proud of her.
We took the L home. For most of the time we were on it, there was a street preacher who "had a word" and was making sure everyone knew it. He moved from one end of the car to the next, shouting and gesturing. Some in the car shouted "amen"s and "preach it, brother"s back. Others shook their heads or wrung their hands uncomfortably. He went on about a "Jezebel spirit", and that not every woman was a wife. Women were better in the Bible when they were happy to eat the crumbs that fell from the master's table. Lilah was very curious about the proceedings. I was less than thrilled with the message of doomsday and sexism.
She kept asking questions. "What'd he say? What's wrong with him? Whaaat?" Finally, when he paused for a breath, Lilah informed me, "He shouldn't yell at people." I wholeheartedly agreed with her.
On the bus home, she was prattling on about her new cups and plates. She waved them in front of a man to show him how great they were. He chuckled. "My youngest daughter is 29. I have 4 grandsons. Didn't know little girls still played tea party anymore." I smiled and kissed her head.
"I'm not sure. She does though."
All in all, it was an excellent weekend sampling a little bit of what Chicago had to offer a toddler well on her way to being a wise little lady well-equipped to handle the world around her.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
For Lilah, later
This won't be a long post. It's just something I need to get out.
I kept Lilah up far too late past her bedtime tonight, and in response, she started to get naughty. We were snuggling and watching Peter Pan. She kissed my face, then bit my cheek (lightly, but we don't tolerate any biting) and laughed. She got her warning. She played "Got your nose" and pinched my nose, then pinched my cheek hard. I picked her up and set her down firmly on the floor.
"Since you're being mean to me, I don't want to snuggle with you anymore. No one wants to snuggle with mean little girls." Her face contorted in a sequence of emotional masks - hurt, anger, confusion. She hit herself on the knee and watched for my reaction. I kept watching the movie, not wanting to give her any attention for the negative reaction. She hit the couch several times (which I am fine with. I've had to beat some pillows before in my life). I made eye contact with her and she approached the couch. I told her no. She picked up her teddy bear (who had been watching Peter Pan with us) and threw him on the floor.
"You can't lay with me," she shouted at the bear. Her eyes filled with tears and she ran to him, cradling him and rocking him. "Sorry. I'm sorry." My eyes filled up, and Dano came to put her to bed. She had forgotten her tantrum and her punishment by then (only moments later. Oh, the joys of being 2 1/2). She told me she loved me and said, "Sweet dreams!"
Being an emotionally trying time of month for me hormonally speaking, I proceeded to bite my lower lip and choke back the tears that had been backing up my lachrymal glands. Dano came back down and knew something was wrong. He stroked my back while I cried. I felt terrible for being the cause of Lilah's negative emotions, even though I knew it was most important that she suffer natural consequences for her actions. Aggressive behavior wasn't even slightly tolerated in the house, and no one wants to be around a little girl who's mean. I felt miserably unhappy for having witnessed her acting out her hurt feelings on her bear. It seems stupid to most, I'm sure.
I wondered how many other mothers had cried alone after making a decision that hurt their child. Knowing it was best for her was literally zero comfort. It only kept me from changing my mind. I wanted to write it out, not to make me feel better, but to somehow assuage my guilt. Maybe someday when she was older and I'd hurt her feelings with another unpopular decision, she'd read this and know that it hurt me as much or more.
Oddly enough, I wondered about a benevolent Creator. To create life with freewill seemed the most beautiful curse you could possibly bestow. Why in the world would He need to punish us Himself when natural consequences were so painful to watch if you loved the lives you created. Who needs damnation to hell when your children were suffering and dying by their own hands. I don't know how God isn't driven insane by grief. As for me, my tears were spent after just a few minutes and I settled in to watch Westerns with Dano. Lilah was peacefully asleep with her bear and doll. I breathed a silent prayer that no matter how many hurtful decisions I had ahead of me, Lilah would always know that they hurt me too.
I kept Lilah up far too late past her bedtime tonight, and in response, she started to get naughty. We were snuggling and watching Peter Pan. She kissed my face, then bit my cheek (lightly, but we don't tolerate any biting) and laughed. She got her warning. She played "Got your nose" and pinched my nose, then pinched my cheek hard. I picked her up and set her down firmly on the floor.
"Since you're being mean to me, I don't want to snuggle with you anymore. No one wants to snuggle with mean little girls." Her face contorted in a sequence of emotional masks - hurt, anger, confusion. She hit herself on the knee and watched for my reaction. I kept watching the movie, not wanting to give her any attention for the negative reaction. She hit the couch several times (which I am fine with. I've had to beat some pillows before in my life). I made eye contact with her and she approached the couch. I told her no. She picked up her teddy bear (who had been watching Peter Pan with us) and threw him on the floor.
"You can't lay with me," she shouted at the bear. Her eyes filled with tears and she ran to him, cradling him and rocking him. "Sorry. I'm sorry." My eyes filled up, and Dano came to put her to bed. She had forgotten her tantrum and her punishment by then (only moments later. Oh, the joys of being 2 1/2). She told me she loved me and said, "Sweet dreams!"
Being an emotionally trying time of month for me hormonally speaking, I proceeded to bite my lower lip and choke back the tears that had been backing up my lachrymal glands. Dano came back down and knew something was wrong. He stroked my back while I cried. I felt terrible for being the cause of Lilah's negative emotions, even though I knew it was most important that she suffer natural consequences for her actions. Aggressive behavior wasn't even slightly tolerated in the house, and no one wants to be around a little girl who's mean. I felt miserably unhappy for having witnessed her acting out her hurt feelings on her bear. It seems stupid to most, I'm sure.
I wondered how many other mothers had cried alone after making a decision that hurt their child. Knowing it was best for her was literally zero comfort. It only kept me from changing my mind. I wanted to write it out, not to make me feel better, but to somehow assuage my guilt. Maybe someday when she was older and I'd hurt her feelings with another unpopular decision, she'd read this and know that it hurt me as much or more.
Oddly enough, I wondered about a benevolent Creator. To create life with freewill seemed the most beautiful curse you could possibly bestow. Why in the world would He need to punish us Himself when natural consequences were so painful to watch if you loved the lives you created. Who needs damnation to hell when your children were suffering and dying by their own hands. I don't know how God isn't driven insane by grief. As for me, my tears were spent after just a few minutes and I settled in to watch Westerns with Dano. Lilah was peacefully asleep with her bear and doll. I breathed a silent prayer that no matter how many hurtful decisions I had ahead of me, Lilah would always know that they hurt me too.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
'Nake's new home
Lilah and I went to the Detroit Zoo because their 17 year old python had been built a lovely new home. I told Lilah about it after we got our Zoo newsletter, and she wanted to see it, as well as visit the fish their (having recently been denied a trip to the aquarium because we won't have time near New Year's). She has trouble saying "S" blends, so it was hard not to giggle when she kept asking to go see the 'nake.
I had a half-day yesterday, so I came home at lunch time. As soon as she was up from her nap, I asked her if she wanted to go to the zoo. She clasped her hands, jumped up and down, and said, "Yes! Yes I do want to go to the zoo!" Then she ran to get her rain boots.
Sans rain boots, we arrived at the zoo. I had two shirts, a sweater, and my pea-coat. Lilah had a tunic, leggings, a sweater, and a jacket. I hoped we'd be warm enough. It was 39 and sunny, but there was a winter chill in the air when the wind blew. We parked and fastened Lilah into the stroller (her clapping and wiggling the entire time, complete with sound effects. "Wiggle, wiggle! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!"). The woman at the members gate was more astute than usual, checking not only my member card but my ID as well, and giving Lilah a visual once-over in case she...didn't look like a Lilah?
We went through the Butterfly House first. All of the elderly guides were bored with nothing to do, so they made over the baby and explained the butterfly life-cycle ad nauseum. There were owl butterflies nearly the size of Lilah's head. She didn't appreciate those very much. "I don't want them to wave at me!" whenever they'd open their wings.
We moved along to the Bird House. She saw a few parrots and watched them preen. She walked happily along the path, until I finally got her to look up into the canopy. She gasped. There were so many birds. Nearly 10 bright pink tropical birds with long beaks staring down at her with bright black eyes and craning their long necks closer.
We headed on to the otters next. There was one out chasing minnows. A dad was texting on the steps of the habitat while his two twin boys wreaked havoc. There is a station where you can push one of several buttons and it will play the noise of the corresponding animal. The boys were fighting and crying over who got to push the buttons. Eventually one boy came over to watch the otter. I made eye contact with the father, who shrugged and looked harried. "No naps today." I smiled weakly.
"Yeah, I here ya." Lilah narrated the otter's every activity happily between talking to him and asking how he was feeling about his snack of minnows. She asked if she could push one of the animal buttons. The little snot of a twin shouted in a whiny tone, "NO!" and brandished a stick at Lilah, baring his teeth. I took a deep breath.
"You can play with the buttons on our way out, my love. Let's watch the otter swim." Nearly 20 minutes later, we wrapped up with the otter and Lilah asked again to push an animal button. Both twins threw their entire bodies to cover the buttons. I looked at the dad and raised my eyebrows as a cue for him to get off his ass and handle his boys. He sighed wearily and walked over, stating in a bored tone, "Boys, be nice." The teeth-boy swung his stick again, coming too close to Lilah, so I relieved him of it and tossed it on the ground out of reach. He whined in the general direction of his dad, then swung at Lilah who was attempting to press a button while he was distracted. She took two big steps back and looked at me.
"He can't push, it's naughty."
"Yes, love. You're right." The father looked sheepish.
"They're going through an aggressive stage," he explained lamely as the boys threw their bodies over the station to prevent Lilah from having a turn. I picked Lilah up and moved on of the boys' arms neatly to the side so Lilah could have a turn while the boy collapsed into shrieks of rage. After Lilah pushed one button, the dad stroked the screaming boy's head and praised him for sharing. I tossed him a look of disgust and total parental judgement and thanked Lilah for being such a good girl. We left them and moved on to the reptiles.
The snake was very much enjoying her new home. The venomous snakes were very active, while the more friendly varieties were sleepier. We finished up just as the zoo was closing and packed up to go home. I buckled Lilah in to her car seat and she chattered happily about her visit to the animals. "My Mama took me to the zoo. I saw the animals. I'm a lucky girl." It was hard not to tear up. She was (barring her bad moods and days) so loving and well-behaved. Nothing pleased me more than making her happy, but she still wasn't able to get away with murder just because she had the capability of throwing a fit and making things unpleasant. In fact, that was all the more reason for us to continue to be strict with our expectations of the child. The more she got away with, the more she'd push the limits and rules and make our lives hell. The more firmly in place the boundaries are, the more comfortable she'll be in her world. And clearly we're doing something right.
I had a half-day yesterday, so I came home at lunch time. As soon as she was up from her nap, I asked her if she wanted to go to the zoo. She clasped her hands, jumped up and down, and said, "Yes! Yes I do want to go to the zoo!" Then she ran to get her rain boots.
Sans rain boots, we arrived at the zoo. I had two shirts, a sweater, and my pea-coat. Lilah had a tunic, leggings, a sweater, and a jacket. I hoped we'd be warm enough. It was 39 and sunny, but there was a winter chill in the air when the wind blew. We parked and fastened Lilah into the stroller (her clapping and wiggling the entire time, complete with sound effects. "Wiggle, wiggle! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!"). The woman at the members gate was more astute than usual, checking not only my member card but my ID as well, and giving Lilah a visual once-over in case she...didn't look like a Lilah?
We went through the Butterfly House first. All of the elderly guides were bored with nothing to do, so they made over the baby and explained the butterfly life-cycle ad nauseum. There were owl butterflies nearly the size of Lilah's head. She didn't appreciate those very much. "I don't want them to wave at me!" whenever they'd open their wings.
We moved along to the Bird House. She saw a few parrots and watched them preen. She walked happily along the path, until I finally got her to look up into the canopy. She gasped. There were so many birds. Nearly 10 bright pink tropical birds with long beaks staring down at her with bright black eyes and craning their long necks closer.
We headed on to the otters next. There was one out chasing minnows. A dad was texting on the steps of the habitat while his two twin boys wreaked havoc. There is a station where you can push one of several buttons and it will play the noise of the corresponding animal. The boys were fighting and crying over who got to push the buttons. Eventually one boy came over to watch the otter. I made eye contact with the father, who shrugged and looked harried. "No naps today." I smiled weakly.
"Yeah, I here ya." Lilah narrated the otter's every activity happily between talking to him and asking how he was feeling about his snack of minnows. She asked if she could push one of the animal buttons. The little snot of a twin shouted in a whiny tone, "NO!" and brandished a stick at Lilah, baring his teeth. I took a deep breath.
"You can play with the buttons on our way out, my love. Let's watch the otter swim." Nearly 20 minutes later, we wrapped up with the otter and Lilah asked again to push an animal button. Both twins threw their entire bodies to cover the buttons. I looked at the dad and raised my eyebrows as a cue for him to get off his ass and handle his boys. He sighed wearily and walked over, stating in a bored tone, "Boys, be nice." The teeth-boy swung his stick again, coming too close to Lilah, so I relieved him of it and tossed it on the ground out of reach. He whined in the general direction of his dad, then swung at Lilah who was attempting to press a button while he was distracted. She took two big steps back and looked at me.
"He can't push, it's naughty."
"Yes, love. You're right." The father looked sheepish.
"They're going through an aggressive stage," he explained lamely as the boys threw their bodies over the station to prevent Lilah from having a turn. I picked Lilah up and moved on of the boys' arms neatly to the side so Lilah could have a turn while the boy collapsed into shrieks of rage. After Lilah pushed one button, the dad stroked the screaming boy's head and praised him for sharing. I tossed him a look of disgust and total parental judgement and thanked Lilah for being such a good girl. We left them and moved on to the reptiles.
The snake was very much enjoying her new home. The venomous snakes were very active, while the more friendly varieties were sleepier. We finished up just as the zoo was closing and packed up to go home. I buckled Lilah in to her car seat and she chattered happily about her visit to the animals. "My Mama took me to the zoo. I saw the animals. I'm a lucky girl." It was hard not to tear up. She was (barring her bad moods and days) so loving and well-behaved. Nothing pleased me more than making her happy, but she still wasn't able to get away with murder just because she had the capability of throwing a fit and making things unpleasant. In fact, that was all the more reason for us to continue to be strict with our expectations of the child. The more she got away with, the more she'd push the limits and rules and make our lives hell. The more firmly in place the boundaries are, the more comfortable she'll be in her world. And clearly we're doing something right.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Future personal trainer
Lilah has fallen in love with the world of exercise. Her pediatrician was concerned at first that she would get a complex; she would be anorexic by over-exercising or some nonsense (not sure when it became abnormal to love a healthy lifestyle in this world, but whatever). This was until I reassured them that we don't practice it to keep from getting fat or ugly, but to stay healthy and sleep well at night. I have noticed, though, that Lilah has taken a page or two from the yoga instructor's book and decided to...encourage me to be better at it. Tough love has become her specialty.
Here's a few excerpts from tonight's session.
(Instructor) "Have a calm face and a quiet mind."
"Whatsa matter with you, Mama?"
"This hurts."
"Here, let me help you. I will push you," as she pushes me deeper into down dog.
"Whats wrong?"
"This is hard."
"Come on. You can move your hips better than that."
(Instructor) "I know this is hard work."
"That's not hard work. That's sleeping. Here, let me help you." As she sat on my back and bounced.
At one point, she was baking Melissa & Doug cookies on my back while I was in pigeon.
She positioned Baby Doll on the mat with me to "help".
"*Groan*"
"Are you okay? Can you do two more deep breaths? There, there. It will be fine. Come here. *Kiss*"
While in boat, a pose really hard on my abs, the little snot got snarky. "Here, you want my baby dolly? She likes to sleep like you. Here she is.
(Sarcstic) "Thanks."
"Oh, not a problem."
Here's a few excerpts from tonight's session.
(Instructor) "Have a calm face and a quiet mind."
"Whatsa matter with you, Mama?"
"This hurts."
"Here, let me help you. I will push you," as she pushes me deeper into down dog.
"Whats wrong?"
"This is hard."
"Come on. You can move your hips better than that."
(Instructor) "I know this is hard work."
"That's not hard work. That's sleeping. Here, let me help you." As she sat on my back and bounced.
At one point, she was baking Melissa & Doug cookies on my back while I was in pigeon.
She positioned Baby Doll on the mat with me to "help".
"*Groan*"
"Are you okay? Can you do two more deep breaths? There, there. It will be fine. Come here. *Kiss*"
While in boat, a pose really hard on my abs, the little snot got snarky. "Here, you want my baby dolly? She likes to sleep like you. Here she is.
(Sarcstic) "Thanks."
"Oh, not a problem."
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Friday Night Live
Last night Lilah and I drove downtown to Friday Night Live at the DIA. They have live music, workshops, drawing in the galleries, and wandering the museum by night. It's one of my favorite things. The lighting is different, the vibe is different, you skip out on loud school groups. It's generally a great time.
I was feeling unusually confident, having driven us there and parked without getting lost. Not to mention, I was wearing a wine-colored silk dress I barely wear and I felt like I looked good in it. Lilah was stylish in a burgundy tunic and leggings with her brown suede boots. For whatever reason, the parking lot guy didn't make us pay for parking, so that was cool. We got into the museum and Lilah transformed into an angel. I checked my coat.
"Where's she taking your coat?"
"She's hanging it up for me."
"That's so nice. Thank you!" Of course, the woman was charmed. We made our way to the drop in workshop. The man at the table by the door explained the process - take a carton with a sugar skull in it. Take some beads and sequins. "Glue" them on with icing. Do not eat the finished product. Lilah and I grabbed a stool. She took a few fists full of beads and sequins and set to work on her "sugar 'kull". It ended up with blue hair, a green butterfly for a nose, white bead eyes stuck on with pink icing. and a mouth full of bright yellow teeth. Lilah ate a bit of frosting, and I had to extract a bead from her mouth when she decided to sample one. We went to wash her hands when she was finished, and a volunteer came to admire her work.
"Very pretty skull! And you!" He turned to me. "That dress is lovely!" My happy-meter rose a few notches. We left the workshop and I asked her what she wanted to see. "We could see paintings, or the Egyptian gods - Ra, Horus, Anubis. We can see statues or sculptures..."
"I want to see Ra!"
"Okay. Let's go."
We walked past the bronze donkey and Lilah had to stop to pat him. Two other little girls were doing the same while there parents watched on. Lilah was shaking her sugar skull to death in its carton, as were the other girls. Their parents laughed.
"We offered to carry theirs, but..." The dad shrugged.
"Same here."
"Your dress is really exceptionally beautiful. I love it." I was really surprised.
"Um, thank you!" We continued on toward the Egypt Exhibit. We passed glass cases with statues. There was an ebony colored figure holding a small head in its hand. Lilah stopped short.
"Mama, what's he doing?"
"Tell me what you see." I've always said that to Lilah to get her to use her brain and her thinking skills.
"It looks like an animal. Or a little boy with an animal in his pocket." Okay then. We kept walking. She almost ran headlong into a guide.
"Well hey there! Aren't you adorable! And your mommy's dress is awesome!" What was with people? "Are you ladies looking for anything in particular?"
"Just wandering."
Lilah beamed and pointed down a corridor. "Can you take me to Ra?" He looked confusedly at me.
"The sun god. She wants to see the Egypt exhibit." He laughed and held out his hand. She took it and he led her to the exhibit and showed her around.
"This is a mummy. There's a person in there." She pressed her nose to the glass.
"Say hi to him, Lilah."
"Actually, it's a girl. They think she's from around 30BC."
"Is she okay in there?"
"She died, and they wrapped her up and put her in there to keep her safe."
"Aww, poor little thing." And she kissed the glass. We saw the whole area and moved on to the Islamic and Asian exhibits. They have a lot of beautiful pottery there.
"What do you see, Lilah?"
"A bowl of soup. And a guy. He's sleeping. Are you okay, little boy?" It was a statue of what looked like a monk in lotus, praying.
She ran into the African exhibit, where they had drawing areas set up. "I want to color!" She tried hard to climb up onto the seat and grab the paper. A woman came over and told us the project was for ages 5 and up, so we moved on.
We ended up in the gallery with one of my favorite paintings, The Nut Gatherers. "What are the little girls doing, Mama? Where are their shoes? Did they lost them? Do they need sockies? Yeah? What is she giving her?"
"Nuts."
"Yeah, nuts. What's that little girl doing?" Next to that painting is one of a little blonde girl in a pink dress in her mother's lap. "Is her mama holding her baby? Is she happy? Is she wearing clothes?" I pointed out a case of busts. Two were babies and one was a woman with barely discernible facial features. Lilah didn't care for the woman, but stared at the two babies. "Is he hungry? Does he want some milk?" The one baby's mouth was open.
She followed her ears to the Diego Rivera court where there was live music. "What are they playing, Mama? Songs? Guitar? Piano? Put me down." She wriggled out of my arms and dashed to about 5 feet from the stage before I could grab her and proceeded to do her Lilah-dance. I was afraid the people around would be bothered. The musicians giggled and the listeners thought she was wonderful. She raced out into the next area where they had tables and a screen set up for those who couldn't fit in the Rivera Court. She went table to table waving and dancing for people and showing them her sugar skull.
We made our way back to the coat check and she accidentally bumped into a lady. "Oh, excuse me!" I was so proud of her manners.
"Well aren't you beautiful! And tell your mother her dress is amazing." Not two seconds later, a group of men my age were passing us and one turned around to call back.
"I really like your cheongsam! That's a great color." And kept on walking. We got my coat, Lilah handing our number to the lady and thanking her for its safe return. We made it out to the car, both happy and full of love after our mama-daughter date to the DIA. I wasn't sure what in the world had gotten into people, but I had never received so many compliments from strangers. Lilah was constantly admired by people for her good manners and cheerful demeanor. It was easily one of the best outings we've been on.
I was feeling unusually confident, having driven us there and parked without getting lost. Not to mention, I was wearing a wine-colored silk dress I barely wear and I felt like I looked good in it. Lilah was stylish in a burgundy tunic and leggings with her brown suede boots. For whatever reason, the parking lot guy didn't make us pay for parking, so that was cool. We got into the museum and Lilah transformed into an angel. I checked my coat.
"Where's she taking your coat?"
"She's hanging it up for me."
"That's so nice. Thank you!" Of course, the woman was charmed. We made our way to the drop in workshop. The man at the table by the door explained the process - take a carton with a sugar skull in it. Take some beads and sequins. "Glue" them on with icing. Do not eat the finished product. Lilah and I grabbed a stool. She took a few fists full of beads and sequins and set to work on her "sugar 'kull". It ended up with blue hair, a green butterfly for a nose, white bead eyes stuck on with pink icing. and a mouth full of bright yellow teeth. Lilah ate a bit of frosting, and I had to extract a bead from her mouth when she decided to sample one. We went to wash her hands when she was finished, and a volunteer came to admire her work.
"Very pretty skull! And you!" He turned to me. "That dress is lovely!" My happy-meter rose a few notches. We left the workshop and I asked her what she wanted to see. "We could see paintings, or the Egyptian gods - Ra, Horus, Anubis. We can see statues or sculptures..."
"I want to see Ra!"
"Okay. Let's go."
We walked past the bronze donkey and Lilah had to stop to pat him. Two other little girls were doing the same while there parents watched on. Lilah was shaking her sugar skull to death in its carton, as were the other girls. Their parents laughed.
"We offered to carry theirs, but..." The dad shrugged.
"Same here."
"Your dress is really exceptionally beautiful. I love it." I was really surprised.
"Um, thank you!" We continued on toward the Egypt Exhibit. We passed glass cases with statues. There was an ebony colored figure holding a small head in its hand. Lilah stopped short.
"Mama, what's he doing?"
"Tell me what you see." I've always said that to Lilah to get her to use her brain and her thinking skills.
"It looks like an animal. Or a little boy with an animal in his pocket." Okay then. We kept walking. She almost ran headlong into a guide.
"Well hey there! Aren't you adorable! And your mommy's dress is awesome!" What was with people? "Are you ladies looking for anything in particular?"
"Just wandering."
Lilah beamed and pointed down a corridor. "Can you take me to Ra?" He looked confusedly at me.
"The sun god. She wants to see the Egypt exhibit." He laughed and held out his hand. She took it and he led her to the exhibit and showed her around.
"This is a mummy. There's a person in there." She pressed her nose to the glass.
"Say hi to him, Lilah."
"Actually, it's a girl. They think she's from around 30BC."
"Is she okay in there?"
"She died, and they wrapped her up and put her in there to keep her safe."
"Aww, poor little thing." And she kissed the glass. We saw the whole area and moved on to the Islamic and Asian exhibits. They have a lot of beautiful pottery there.
"What do you see, Lilah?"
"A bowl of soup. And a guy. He's sleeping. Are you okay, little boy?" It was a statue of what looked like a monk in lotus, praying.
She ran into the African exhibit, where they had drawing areas set up. "I want to color!" She tried hard to climb up onto the seat and grab the paper. A woman came over and told us the project was for ages 5 and up, so we moved on.
We ended up in the gallery with one of my favorite paintings, The Nut Gatherers. "What are the little girls doing, Mama? Where are their shoes? Did they lost them? Do they need sockies? Yeah? What is she giving her?"
"Nuts."
"Yeah, nuts. What's that little girl doing?" Next to that painting is one of a little blonde girl in a pink dress in her mother's lap. "Is her mama holding her baby? Is she happy? Is she wearing clothes?" I pointed out a case of busts. Two were babies and one was a woman with barely discernible facial features. Lilah didn't care for the woman, but stared at the two babies. "Is he hungry? Does he want some milk?" The one baby's mouth was open.
She followed her ears to the Diego Rivera court where there was live music. "What are they playing, Mama? Songs? Guitar? Piano? Put me down." She wriggled out of my arms and dashed to about 5 feet from the stage before I could grab her and proceeded to do her Lilah-dance. I was afraid the people around would be bothered. The musicians giggled and the listeners thought she was wonderful. She raced out into the next area where they had tables and a screen set up for those who couldn't fit in the Rivera Court. She went table to table waving and dancing for people and showing them her sugar skull.
We made our way back to the coat check and she accidentally bumped into a lady. "Oh, excuse me!" I was so proud of her manners.
"Well aren't you beautiful! And tell your mother her dress is amazing." Not two seconds later, a group of men my age were passing us and one turned around to call back.
"I really like your cheongsam! That's a great color." And kept on walking. We got my coat, Lilah handing our number to the lady and thanking her for its safe return. We made it out to the car, both happy and full of love after our mama-daughter date to the DIA. I wasn't sure what in the world had gotten into people, but I had never received so many compliments from strangers. Lilah was constantly admired by people for her good manners and cheerful demeanor. It was easily one of the best outings we've been on.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Exodus according to a 2 1/2 year old
I watched Prince of Egypt with Lilah tonight as our snuggle movie. It was so interesting and wildly entertaining to hear her commentary and answer her questions. There were some more potent questions that I left for Pastor Grannie Annie to answer at a later date and just placated her with, "Hush and watch the movie." I decided to transcribe some of her comments.
"What's she doing to her baby, Mama? Puttin' him in the water? Why is she crying? Is he gonna be okay? Yeah? He likes her singin' to him? Why are the alligators eatin' the baby?"
"Why he hurtin' her, Mama? Is she all right? Yeah? Is she singing? Is she happy? Yeah? Why's she crying?"
"What's that?"
"A camel."
"Is the camel eating him?"
"Did he fall down into the water? Are they getting him out? Is he swimming?"
"What's that, Mama? Water?"
"No, darling. It's a tree on fire. It's God."
"God?"
"God."
"God likes trees?"
"Sure."
"He likes putting fire on them?"
"...Sure."
"Lookit, Mama. God gave Moses a stick. Does he like it? Yeah? Pick up your stick."
"What's the stick doing? Making a snake? Yeah? Why not?"
"God did it with his power."
"What are they (the Egyptian priests) doing?"
"Well, they're asking their Gods to make snakes too."
"They have God?"
"Their God's name is Ra."
"Look, Mama. Ra made snakes like God...God-snake's eatin' the other snakes...They're gone. Are they sad? Is the snake a stick now? Did he miss his stick? He picked it up."
"What's wrong with the water, Mama?"
"It's yucky. God put blood in it."
"Ra made blood."
"Well, it's fake blood. God made real blood."
"No."
"What's happenin', Mama?"
"Um...God's coming down from the sky."
"What's He doing?"
"He's...taking the babies away."
"Why?"
"Because Pharaoh wasn't nice and he's in trouble."
"That little boy fell down. God isn't nice."
"..."
"God should be nice. God shouldn't push the little boy down. God should go back up there."
(When Pharaoh's son died) "Is he sleeping?"
"...No. He was sick and now he's not going to come back."
"God put him to sleep?"
"Well...Pharaoh is...God...yes. "
"His daddy can't cover him up. He (the little boy) doesn't want to be cozy. He wants to get up. He doesn't want to be sleeping."
"Are they happy? Yeah? Are they singing songs? Do they get to go home? Did God do it? Did Ra do it? Did the stick do it? Moses is happy because he has his stick."
So, in conclusion, God looks like water and likes setting trees on fire, Ra is just as talented as God at making snakes out of sticks and blood out of water, God is mean and should go back where he came from instead of making little boys sleep when they "don't want to be cozy", and we would all be a little happier if we had magical sticks.
"What's she doing to her baby, Mama? Puttin' him in the water? Why is she crying? Is he gonna be okay? Yeah? He likes her singin' to him? Why are the alligators eatin' the baby?"
"Why he hurtin' her, Mama? Is she all right? Yeah? Is she singing? Is she happy? Yeah? Why's she crying?"
"What's that?"
"A camel."
"Is the camel eating him?"
"Did he fall down into the water? Are they getting him out? Is he swimming?"
"What's that, Mama? Water?"
"No, darling. It's a tree on fire. It's God."
"God?"
"God."
"God likes trees?"
"Sure."
"He likes putting fire on them?"
"...Sure."
"Lookit, Mama. God gave Moses a stick. Does he like it? Yeah? Pick up your stick."
"What's the stick doing? Making a snake? Yeah? Why not?"
"God did it with his power."
"What are they (the Egyptian priests) doing?"
"Well, they're asking their Gods to make snakes too."
"They have God?"
"Their God's name is Ra."
"Look, Mama. Ra made snakes like God...God-snake's eatin' the other snakes...They're gone. Are they sad? Is the snake a stick now? Did he miss his stick? He picked it up."
"What's wrong with the water, Mama?"
"It's yucky. God put blood in it."
"Ra made blood."
"Well, it's fake blood. God made real blood."
"No."
"What's happenin', Mama?"
"Um...God's coming down from the sky."
"What's He doing?"
"He's...taking the babies away."
"Why?"
"Because Pharaoh wasn't nice and he's in trouble."
"That little boy fell down. God isn't nice."
"..."
"God should be nice. God shouldn't push the little boy down. God should go back up there."
(When Pharaoh's son died) "Is he sleeping?"
"...No. He was sick and now he's not going to come back."
"God put him to sleep?"
"Well...Pharaoh is...God...yes. "
"His daddy can't cover him up. He (the little boy) doesn't want to be cozy. He wants to get up. He doesn't want to be sleeping."
"Are they happy? Yeah? Are they singing songs? Do they get to go home? Did God do it? Did Ra do it? Did the stick do it? Moses is happy because he has his stick."
So, in conclusion, God looks like water and likes setting trees on fire, Ra is just as talented as God at making snakes out of sticks and blood out of water, God is mean and should go back where he came from instead of making little boys sleep when they "don't want to be cozy", and we would all be a little happier if we had magical sticks.
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