Current Events

9:30. The kiddies are tucked safely into bed. This is the peaceful time of day; now, and naptime. Tonight the house is actually clean already, dishes done and whatnot. Mitchie kicketh. Peter's still got a lot of work to do, poor guy, so while I wait for him to surface I'll blog. (I despise that verb.)

Inge has pretty nails because we painted them tonight. Lewis has some pretty nails, too, because after we finished painting Inge's he re-opened the bottle and started painting his own. He got two done before I found and stopped him.

Inge went on a "date" with her Daddy today. She looked like a little lady, very grown up, and conscious of the grandeur of the occasion. I understand they went to the Pantry and split a piece of Tollhouse pie.

Had the reader joined us for family prayers tonight, one line of Lewis's petitions as dictated by his father might have stood out: "And please help me not to bite Inge." For yes, Lewis has taken to biting. Not as terrorism, or as a coercive technique, or (apparently) for personal gain of any kind. His motivations are more philosophical than pragmatic. Seemingly, he enjoys the activity as a sort of comedic and interesting routine that also reinforces the presence of causality, even in his little round of existence. That is to say, he bites, she shreaks, we appear, conduct a basic forensic investigation, and escort the culprit away. "Spanks" are received. Many spanks. The culprit is now very sorry. Amid sobs, he repents and apologizes. Hugs are exchanged. The order of events never changes, but one or two days will elapse before a repeat performance and then...as if the little philosopher needs to reassure himself that the sun still rises in the east, he bites again, she shreaks again, and off we go.

Inge, meanwhile, expands her vocabulary daily and shows a certain impromptu creativity to give one pause. An excerpt from yesterday's visit to the Amos household, where we ate lunch: According to parental injunctions, Inge was (loudly) taking her leave of Mrs. Amos ("AND-THANK-YOU-FOR-THE-FOOD-AND-THANK-YOU-FOR...") but, in the general hubbub, Mrs. Amos was not listening.

"Inge," I said. "You have to get Mrs. Amos's attention before you talk to her."

The small rhetorician pondered less than half a second; and then delivered this thunderbolt:

"ATTENTION!!" quoth Inge. Wherewith she had it, and plenty of it.

And now, goodnight, as they say. It is time to sleep. (So we will sleep with our pet Zeep...today was good, today was fun, tomorrow is another one.)

Another Christmas Package Dress-up

Grammy and Grandpa dress up Ginga style.

A Sunset

I was taking some pictures at sunset; for the first 15 min or so it was kind of a hum-drum sunset with some colors and interesting light. I turned aside to take some other pictures and when I looked up this was what I saw-- a sunset impressive even to a colorblind person.

Hoar-Frost

This a picture of some of the beautiful hoar-frost we had a couple of weeks ago. It covered everything

Messy Room-- Cute Kids

And another grandma-killer. If this isn't good advertising for the airlines I don't know what is.

Christmas Dress Up

The dapper little fellow himeself, wearing some new additions to his wardrobe from Grammy and Grandpa.

More Sayings of Buddy

Clark the Bear seems to wear a look of peculiar gratification, an aspect sort of smudgily appreciative, because Buddy can now--finally, after months of camaraderie--say his name. He pronounces it "Ph-lock."

He (Lewis, not Clark) has also learned how to string two words together, often handily pertaining to some desire of his own, such as, "Like grink (drink)," "want Ph-lock," "read book" (or "get book"). Drinks can also be specified by name as in "eh-mulk," or "ownh doosh." Water is rarely preferred, unless it comes out of his "Boff." He likes to quaff it from his tub toys, especially the Duplo blocks.

Naming the Baby

We hear from Inge that she and Buddy had a conversation today about what Mitch should be named when Mitch emerges. Buddy, Inge avows, wants to name it "Bless You." She herself thinks--as she usually does--we should name it Inge. Inge is her prime choice for names. "Binge" runs a close second, being a moniker of her own invention, original, and yet familiar somehow.

"You want us to name the baby Inge?" we asked.

"Yes," she said. "When he comes out."

It isn't inconceivable that Buddy might want to name the child "Bless You." This ranks among his chief phrases this week. He delivers it with vigor and pride whenever someone sneezes. It is pronounced "Blotchoo."

Syllabification 101

Overheard, Inge teaching Buddy to say "Hallelujah," after one of her solo singing sessions, her small but attentive audience having evinced some interest in learning her technique:

Inge: say Hah
Buddy: Hah
Inge: say Ley
Buddy: Ley
Inge, after thinking deeply: say You
Buddy: You
Inge: say Lah
Buddy: Lah

Inge, beginning phase 2: Now, say Hah-ley

American Haiku

"Parenthood Is"

things falling
in
the other room

and also,

I
knew
I smelled something

Merry Christmas from the Roises. The Lord is come!! 

Lewisisms

Lewis has begun commenting on movies. He turns to whomever he is sitting with and urges his (rather simple) insights until they are acknowledged. "Hat! Hat! Hat! Hat-hat!" Or, watching a movie in which somebody was sleeping: "A-pleep! A-PLEEP!"

Another common funny is his rendering of the word "milk." eh-MULK.

And yes, Winnie-the-Pooh has already left his mark: this morning I found Lewis stalking about his bedroom with a partially open umbrella, observing, "tut-tut! weenh! tut-tut, weenh!"

The inspiration for this blog just happened a moment ago. Sometimes I am too busy to take care of potential disasters right away, and so, I procrastinate--salving my conscience by taking two-minute readings. ("On the Mommy scale, disaster potential is now at a 6; thirty seconds remaining to zero hour") The young man had oiled his way into his father's empty office--on the disaster scale an easy 9 and a half. But he was sitting innocently in a Church-hillian pose on Daddy's chair, looking proud and inert, so I left him there. On the second check it became evident that a previously held plan had been quickly put into action as soon as I left, for there was Lewis in the same chair with a pipe and an open tobacco pouch, preparing to have a smoke.

Singing lessons

We overslept this morning. The first thing we heard when we did awake was a singing lesson well in progress in the next room. We think it may also have been Inge and Lewis's first verbalized argument:

Inge: Gloooooria, oh, Gloooooooria!

Lewis (ponderously melodious): Goooooooria

Inge: No, it's Gloria.

Lewis, branching out on a derivation of his own: It's happy, it's happy!

Inge: No, Gloria.

Lewis--not a dutiful student--doesn't care any more: Happy, happy!

Moral: Area codes DO matter

I know this, because I just called a potato warehouse in Aberdeen, Idaho, and told them I wanted an ultrasound.

On topics less imponderable: Buddy likes trucks. From the heavily bundled figure in the right-hand half of the stroller, I heard the following commentary during our walk this morning:

"Puck!...Wwwwrruck!....Hrruck!...Frrruck!"

Discovered too Latte

Biddle-bud hoping to have received a Latte, discovers that the restaurant manager disguised water in a hot drink cup, with a lid.

Watertower

A watertower at sunset. This is a view from our street (well, sort of-- my new super zoom makes it look closer than it really is)

Bibbycakes

Babycakes with a bib on... (taken with the new camera)

Vignette

Scene: The Homestead Place after dinner. Some early Christmas music fills the house with fun and cheer. Claire is cleaning up the post-dinner mess. Peter has gone upstairs. Inge and Lewis are entertaining themselves in some mysterious fashion in the family room.

Vignette: Claire walks around the corner, to see Lewis--to the strains of Frosty the Snowman--vigorously emptying the pepper shaker as he walks about the room. The scene is oddly reminiscent of the holidays--Buddy reminds one of those Salvation Army ringers, or perhaps Santa, or an oldtime town crier during the holidays. Pepper drifts down something like snow. ~


"Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" just came on. There is a strange thumping noise coming around the corner, the sort of noise a hammer would make if it were pounding on the closed piano.

Signing off,

Claire

More from Mommy

how the world works

Inge has from somewhere contrived a notion that a marriage ceremony consists in the proper wearing of a veil. In her world of make-believe, it follows that she can marry any unsuspecting individual she can drape a veil over. Such as Buddy. A veil can be, and usually is, a piece of string. And so it happens that Buddy will get married two or three times a day, without his consent, participation, or knowledge; and the sign of the recent nuptials is a long red string run over his crown and tucked behind his ears. Poor innocent. But I wonder...Is there a moral to this story?

Dragon Slayer

In some ways, Inge puts her mommy to shame. (Mommy's posting, this time.) She brought me into the living room to "show me something" today, that was supposed to be a spider. Inge's spiders usually aren't, but this one was--had been, I mean. Inge had killed it, as she reasonably explained to me, because it had been inside, which is where spiders are not supposed to be. Turns out she killed it with a microphone and a wooden bead. Got the job done, certainly. She wanted to be the one to wipe it up, too.