It Spiked Me! -- Big E

 Caterpillar that spiked me. It hurt.
 











Building a caterpillar home for our new temporary pet
 












Don't eat my kittens! Our resident golden eagles were making their rounds right over our house. I made sure no kittens were dinner by offering them my arm. Of course, they didn't eat it. But they didn't eat my kitties either.
 








Me, being very, very brave and petting the bull snake that Papa caught.

I'm mad at my mom. She made fun of me about being scared to hold a caterpillar. What she has failed to understand is this caterpillar has spikes!!! Just look at the picture and you can see for yourself. My papa was very unsympathetic. No one comforted me when it hurt. I need my Dad. He's from the city. He understands that not all people can pick up bull snakes, drive a backhoe, spot deer 2 miles away on the hillside, or a coyote that blends in for that matter...yes, my dad just gets me when I'm in the country.

Don't misunderstand me. I want to live in the country. I cry every year when I have to leave to go back home. It is not my fault that my parents make me live in a city of a half of million people. I'm so country deprived that when I was five, I asked my mom if the deer were real that were in people's yard. My mom laughed at me then and said, "yes, they are real. What else could they be?" I reminded her of the deer with lights. You know, the ones that are up at Christmas. She laughed even harder. (Are you seeing a pattern here? lack of empathy!)

But I digress. I mastered some fear this week by petting a bull snake that I told my Grandpa he needed to go get. Of course, Grandpa wants me to get the full country experience why I'm here. (He feels sorry for me, too that I have to live in the city.) So he went down the hill to find the bullsnake for Lil' E and me. He's the best.

Doing things for others, reminds me that my Dad, this summer is going to get my Mom an iphone. He is giving her his old one with a cracked face and he's going to buy the new model. He tells me this is great for Mommy! I just can't figure out why Mommy would get the cracked one, when he dropped and broke it and he gets a new one. I'm still working on how that is a gift. It seems like it would be like me giving Lil' E my stuffed animal with the stuffing coming out of it and keeping the two brand new ones I got. I guess this type of gift giving happens when you've been married for thirteen years. I can tell I've got a lot to learn.

I'm off to sleep because I have pottery class in the morning. I'll show pictures soon.

Big E

Daddy, Come! -- Lil' e

 My papa caught a bullsnake and let me PET it.
 









Playin' some morning golf in my pjs
 

From Mimi and Papa's front lawn...Hot Air Balloon -- Come back!

My dad left me with you-know-who. He has been gone for nine days and I won't see him again for another four. I keep asking him to "Come!" but he says he can't. He has to work. This is disappointing to me. I even cried to make him come back, but he says he can't. So, I don't talk to him on the phone anymore. If he won't come, then I don't want to talk to him. Today, my mom made me talk to him so I just kept hitting the phone. That made her listen. She didn't make me talk to him anymore.

It's not all bad, Issy is sleeping in the bed with Mommy, which is in my room. We have family snuggle time and it is soo fun!! I wish my Mom (I'm sort of outgrowing Mommy, but sometimes I still use it.) would let me sleep with her but of course it is against her nature...it would be fun. She's really against anything that's fun. Well except for playing in the dirt with me, tickling me, chasing me, playing golf with me, and reading me stories, but other than that, she's really awful to be around. Puts me in time-outs all the time.

In fact, she wouldn't even let me go outside for the rest of the day after I bit her for the third time today. What kind of mom is that? Please, doesn't she know that the kittens are biting me after I've been holding them too long. Of course, I'm going to bite her when I'm frustrated. The kittens are being bad models to me. I really can't help it. She's got to get a grip on what it means to be a two and a half year old. We're so susceptible to influence...like the kittens biting me, I HAVE to do it to someone else.

This potty training thing is really over-the-top. I do NOT want to sit on the potty. No M&M's, no ice cream, no pieces of chocolate make me want to sit on the potty. Who wants to stop what they are doing to go use the toilet? No one that I know. Going poop is WAY easier if I'm running around, being crazy and it just happens. It just doesn't happen when I'm on the potty. It takes way too much concentration, not to mention the lack of privacy. Who needs it? I'm on strike -- NO MORE POTTY TRAINING!!! I won't go poop until I get a diaper. Period.

Later,

Lil' E

Why does my hand have to hurt? -- Big E

 

Me being a seal

 

Splashing and staying cool in the front yard

 

Trying my hand at photography

 

I found this dragonfly before anyone else. AND, I took this picture.

Why does my hand have to hurt? First, four days ago Mimi asked my mom to move a pizza pan. Since I'm so incredibly helpful and want to help, I grabbed it. It had just come out of the oven.

Yes, I burned the tips of my fingers AND they blistered. Made water bubble under my skin. I couldn't practice my handstand or any gymnastics move for four days. It hurt for days.

Then, just when it was feeling much better and my handstands were returning to vertical, a sliver found itself wedged between my skin and my fingernail. Yes, the sliver broke off. Yes, it broke my fingernail. Yes, it hurts AND still hurts even though it happened 12 hours ago. Luckily, the sliver (2 cm long) didn't completely break off when my mom was getting it with the tweezers and it came out.

HOWEVER, my mom pulled too fast! She made it hurt worse. She didn't tell me she was going to pull so fast. She should have gone slower. All day, I haven't been able to figure out why she pulled it out so fast and now she's stopped answering me. I can't believe she won't at least tell me why she did it so fast. She could at least confess that she was wrong and she's sorry she made it hurt worse. But no, not her. She has too much pride to say she's sorry. In fact, she's so defensive she won't even talk about it any more.

What kind of role model is she? I'm not going to answer her when she asks me why I'm kicking my brother. Or why I'm pushing him away from my stuff. She's going to find that I have nothing to say. So, I won't get in trouble for not answering because she's not answering me.

I can't wait until I see my daddy again. He went back to work and we're stuck here with Mom. At least she bought me something when we went shopping today...origami bookmarks...that's pretty cool. But she wouldn't let me buy a homemade peanut butter cup at the candy shop...it was so lame because we went there yesterday for ice cream so it's not like we'd been there today. I couldn't believe she wouldn't let me. I'm definitely going to tell Daddy about this. He's going to talk to her...after all, it's his money. He's the one who works.

Holding out for chocolate...

Big E

Kitty, Come Out! -- Lil' e

 

The kittens couldn't get enough of me so I helped them out by putting them in my wagon. They knew I couldn't escape, and neither could they!

 

This is a fort Issy made. I read "Bob the Builder" but I don't think Issy read anything because she never said anything out loud. She just sat with her book on her lap, slowly turning the pages. She must have been too interested in hearing my story, to read hers.

 

If Mixie is hiding, I'll find her. I'll run around the trailor for hours until she comes out.

 

Max-ee-moo-moo; I love it when he chases my string!

The kitties really can't get enough of me. When I leave to go home, they are going to miss the escape practicing I'm doing with them. You know, the escaping they need to do from coyotes and hawks in order to last longer than a year. Given I'm older, not to mention a master escape artist from you-know-who!, I'm teaching them how to run away when I chase them. So far, they are getting quite good at it. They've even found a new hiding place, under the deck. However, they must realize that determined predators will indeed wait for their prey. So we're working on "looking around and making sure the coast is clear" because they get caught a ridiculous number of times. Since they aren't quite learning successfully (not to get caught), I've had to give them some harsh consequences so they will be more focused -- throwing them across the lawn, covering them with blankets, and my favorite, throwing them in the pool. Papa wasn't too happy with my teaching techniques (he's a softy) so after he saw me giving a consequence, he gave me one...no touching the kitties for the rest of the day. I made sure he wasn't around for any more consequence giving after that.

I am having a very difficult time potty training my mommy. She will not get it into her head that diapers are more comfortable than sitting on the potty. Who wants to sit on the potty when your bottom gets read and it's uncomfortable? I don't for sure. She thinks she can give me M&M's to balance out my feeling uncomfortable on the potty. She's wrong! AND she doesn't listen to me. So, to make sure she really got it, I threw the M&M's at her and ran behind my bed where she couldn't reach me. Of course, she used the major power play of "you have to stay in your room and not go outside" to make me sit on the potty but I REFUSED to eat her M&M's. That will show her!

I can't wait for tomorrow....more digging, digging, digging in the dirt AND kitty chasing, of course!

Later,

Lil' e

Helicopters and Snow --- Lil' E

 

Do you see me on Papa's shoulders, next to the helicopter? Right next to the helicopter? So close I can touch it? So close I actually got to SIT in it? Close enough to touch the levers? You know-- close? That's me, that close!

It's not there anymore. "Come back, ga-ga. Come back!"

 

I made this snowman on our hike. The snow was sooo cold!

 

"MORE SNOW! MORE SNOW!" Snowballs are the best part of snow.

 

This chipmunk kept sneaking out to see me but it didn't like it when I got too close.

My Papa is the coolest driver. He bounced me and bounced me in my seat. It was fun, for a while anyway. Then it was just too much. I wiggled and squirmed, tried to tell get out of my car seat but I couldn't. I tried to tell my mom but it came too fast. Mimi's chocolate chip waffles were out of me before I knew it, wet and slimy and all over my clothes.

I felt better after that so we continued up the mountain and went hiking. There was snow! Snow is very cool. It is COLD. I love holding it, feeling it melt down my arm. When it gets too much, I just throw it -- at Issy. She screams. I laugh before getting in trouble.

I am reminded about other things that I think are funny and my mom does NOT: Throwing puzzle pieces after I'm done doing the puzzle, throwing my meat at lunch, dumping out my water on the dinner table, drawing in her journal and squirting her with water. It is sooo delightful to squirt her. The opportunity presents itself when I'm outside and there, right in front of me is the hose. There on the hose, is the nozzle. On the nozzle is the handle. The handle brings water. I squeeze watering anything that needs watering, buckets, the house, kitties, really anything in front of me -- even my mom. When she tells me "No!" I must squirt her. I cannot resist. Here she is, coming towards me to take it out of my hands, I cannot help it. I must squirt. Squirt until she backs up. I laugh. She frowns. No more squirting. I'm inside. In a time-out.

Later,

Lil' E

Dead Horse Point And More -- Big E

 

Me and My Grandpa. Couldn't beat the view or the wildflowers!

 

My snowman in July...Shel Silverstein would have been proud since he has a poem about snowmen -- no matter how hard they tried couldn't stay alive in July...and mine did! (I posted the poem at the end.)

 

Wild Daisies

 

Wildflowers everywhere! Which meant lots of butterflies, too. It was so beautiful. If only I could've been carried, then the day would've been perfect.

My Grandpa is a horrible driver. Lil' E can prove it. He threw up in the backseat, got car sick because my Grandpa drives crazy. He got sick twice. Threw up all those waffles Mimi made him. It was like being on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland was how crazy he drove...all bumpy and jerking. I felt car sick after about an hour of this but they never once stopped for me. Lil' E couldn't get them to stop either, until he threw up all over. Then, Grandpa stopped. Right after Dead Horse Point, which takes one way driving to a new level. Dead Horse Point, named after a pack of horses which fell down the mountain because it was so narrow, made me want to get out and walk. It was crazy. I could sit in my seat and look straight down the mountain, and I mean straight down. Of course, I wasn't scared of falling down the mountain; I was sick of having to drive crazy with bumps and bumps and bumps. However I noticed my mom stopped talking and focused straight ahead until we passed the turns of Dead Horse Point.

My story actually gets worse. Once we got to the top, we had to get out and hike. My mom didn't listen to me when I told her I was sore from our walk two days before to town -- four miles away. I had asked if I could come. She said it would be really hard and she didn't know if I should come. I reassured her that my legs were strong, me being a gymnast and all. Well, two miles in to that walk, my feet were killing me and I wanted to stop. Didn't my mom know that I couldn't handle four miles! I'm only seven and a half. She should have known and NEVER let me come. How was I supposed to know what four miles really looked like? I hear the word four and think, "Easy! No problem!" "Four-- three points down from seven." "I can handle anything less than seven." I did make it but not before needing to sit and rest about fifteen minutes from the end.

But, I've lost my story. I was telling my mom that I was still sore from that walk and I couldn't do a new hike. I wanted to stay home with the kittens. She said, "No, I couldn't stay home." (What else would my mom say? She's the one who doesn't know what the word vacation means.)

So, she drags me up to this mountain, 35 miles from Canada and made me climb to not one, but two ridges. My legs hurt. I could've stumbled and fallen down the mountain. (The trail was NOT safe; it needed to be wider!!) She didn't care. She just told me that I could do it and I needed to focus on parts of my body that felt strong. There were none!! Some help she was.

I admit, it was all worth it in the end because I got to make a snowman in July. This reminded me of one of my favorite authors, Shel Silverstein who wrote this wonderful poem about snowmen in July. (I'll write it at the end.) On the way back, I was first in line. I didn't complain one bit. My mom's position in the line? Last? Now who's the strongest? (It doesn't count that she stopped to admire the whistler, pica, and ground squirrels. I could have done that AND kept up.)

Next time, she'll have to let me stay. After all, someone needs to hold the kittens all day. They need me.

Still the Kitten Whisperer,

Big E

Snowman

'Twas the first day of springtime,
And the snowman stood alone
As the winter snows were melting,
And the pine trees seemed to groan,
"Ah, you poor sad smiling snowman,
Said the snowman, "What a pity,
For I'd like to see July.
Yes, I'd like to see July, and please don't ask me why.
But I'd like to, yes I'd like to, oh I'd like to see July."

Chirped a robin, just arriving,
"Seasons come and seasons go,
And the greatest ice must crumble
When it's flowers' time to grow.
And as one thing is begining
So another thing must die,
And there's never been a snowman
Who has ever seen July.
No, they never see July, no matter how they try.
No, they never ever, never ever, never see July."

But the snowman sniffed his carrot nose
And said, "At least I'll try,"
And he bravely smiled his frosty smile
And blinked his coal-black eye.
And there he stood and faced the sun
A blazin' from the sky --
And I really cannot tell you
If he ever saw July.
Did he ever see July? You can guess as well as I
If he ever, if he never, if he ever saw July.

Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends

I'll Show Her -- Lil' E

 

This picture is me FLYING HIGH with my amazing Uncle Kerby. He knows some RIDICULOUS moves. He does things with me that put my mom and dad to shame. To bad he wouldn't let me come home with him, we could create some real trouble.

 

My mom, the stalker, is going to have a few things coming to her. First of all, if she's going to follow me, then I'm going to make her pay. I love to go up and down stairs, especially the stairs that are by the steep incline where I could roll about 20 yards if I slip on the edge. My mom follows me up and down, up and down. I don't hold onto the railing unless threatened. If she says, "You have to hold onto the rail or go inside," well then, I hold onto the rail. However, I make her think I'm not going to listen first and when she's at the top of the stairs, I hold onto the rail and down we go again, by the steep drop off. Then, I go up again so I can chase the tittie-tats. You get the idea. She follows me everywhere I want to go.

As you can see by my picture, Mixie loves me. If I'm so lucky as to have surprised her and been able to pick her up, then there is no telling where I'll be taking her. This morning, I was lucky enough to catch her by my wading pool. I threw her in so she could have fun in the water, just like I do. My mom didn't like that much. Neither did Mixie. In fact, Mixie wouldn't let me pick her up the rest of the morning. She even stratched me. How rude! So I couldn't do it again because my mom threatened me to go inside. (And who wants to play inside on a day like today? Boring!)

I also have a number of tricks up my sleeve to keep my mom on her toes. She will regret not listening to me when I say, "go away!" At nap, I can get out (as I've previously posted). Well, I couldn't sleep again yesterday. So I tore off a bunch of paper on my Mimi's and Papa's wall. It was perfectly angled so I could get a bunch of it off. It was also right by my crib, within perfect reach.

 

After I tore all I could, I still wasn't tired so I got out of my bed to wait until I was more sleepy. I found my markers in my airplane luggage and drew lots of helicopters all over my legs. After I was done, I realized my mom wouldn't like this so I took out all the wipes from the package and scrubbed my legs. Then, I tore up my heirloom, linen blanket just to hear it. (I love the sound of cloth tearing.) I accidentally, squealed with delight after my last tear and well, you-know-who came in the door. She put me back in bed, instantly. She kept my door open and eventually wore me down -- I slept.

Wearing me down, makes me angry so I showed her. This morning, when I woke up bright and early, I went straight to her side of the bed, pulled her finger and said, "Get up! Get up, Mommy." Little did she know how early stalking duties can start!

Later,

Lil' E