Another successful Halloween night. Lil' e and I were black cats, in honor of our cat, Oedipus and Max-e-moo-moo, Mimi and Papa's cat. Of course, we were adorable. Ears, painted black whiskers and black noses, with long body leotards and black tails. My mom somewhat dressed up with brown ears and whiskers. She was supposed to do black paws for me, but said she couldn't fit in any sewing time. This was extremely disappointing and I suggested to her that next year she start earlier with my costume so she can get it all done.
Our outfits paled in comparison to the amount of candy, and the coolness of the candy, we received from our neighbors. I got several Reese's, my favorite and M&M's, oh too much to list. I don't really like Skittles or Snickers so we gave them away to people who came to our door after we returned from Trick or Treating. Luckily, no one tricked although we were disappointed by how many dark porches there were. We had to walk a long ways to get lots of candy! My mom said it was good for us, burn off all the calories before we got home to have two pieces! I told her it would take until Easter for me to eat all my candy at two pieces a day. Of course she wouldn't negotiate; she can be controlling that way. I can't wait until I'm the mommy so I can let my daughter do whatever she wants to do!
My REAL highlight was having four of my cousins stay with me for four days. We made lots of videos on my new camera from Grandpa D. It was like we were real actors. We took turns being the director. Of course, it was a real pain when Lil' e wanted to join us but we just told him Woof Woof couldn't be in the video and he'd leave after a few minutes.
After they left, I was mad at my mom. It isn't fair that they have all those sisters and brother to play with. Who do I have? lil'e...how fair is that? He is always wrecking whatever we play so I'm not even sure I should count him. Take yesterday for example, we were playing binoculars. Trying to find things to look at. Before I know it, he has stuffed his sandwich inside the binocular barrels after he figured out how to loosen the screw. Now, MY binoculars don't even work.
I love lil' e, but it's just not fair that I don't have anyone else to play with.
Peace Out,
Big E
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Food Fun -- Lil' e
Issy and I LOVE 'iders. This was one we spotted in our driveway. Here it is climbing up the wall of our house. Issy took this picture with her new camera. Isn't it so good?
I've been busy, too busy to write. School, gymnastics, and digging have kept me very, very busy. Also, I'm a worker. My mommy, she tries to be a worker, but I'M the worker. I do so many helpful things. I get out the carpet cleaner and spray it on the rug. My mom wasn't very excited I did it without her permission but I'm BIG now. I can do things myself. Then I was a worker when I cut the papers with scissors. I needed to write to Mimi and Papa but didn't have any notecards, so I made some. It was the best because after I cut, we got to use the tape to fix the paper. The next day, I even did it again. I cut up some paper, then I repaired it using tape. Tape is hard to get out and it took most of the roll to fix the paper. Now, I can't find the scissors anymore. They aren't in the drawer. We need to buy more!
In just about any situation, I can be a worker. However, while eating I prefer to be an animal. Kitties are loud when they eat. I am, too. I meow and really focus on tearing the food up my hands. My family doesn't appreciate it and try to get me to be quiet but all kitties need to eat so I stay at the table. Other days I'm a dog. Dogs, they don't use their hands. They eat with only their mouth. I do too. No hands allowed when eating like a dog. Eating cereal as a dog is very, very fun. Fitting my face in the bowl requires difficult thinking. I use my nose, tongue, cheek, anything I can to get the food where I can grab it with my lips. Then there is the whole thing about drinking milk with your tongue. It is so good when it doesn't come out of a glass. After I'm a dog, I usually get to be a worker...cleaning up the mess with a broom.
There are a few rules while eating that are real joy robbers. 1) No throwing food. (Can you believe that?) Food is fun. It sticks to the wall when it is thrown. 2) No squeezing food. (complete stiffling of creativity!) Oh the sounds and textures squeezed food have. Yogurt even makes noises and tastes better when licks, unlike applesauce which is too runny when squeezed. I can't believe my mom and dad would rob me of such a powerful educational tool! 3) I can't pour the salad dressing by myself. This is unfair!!! I'm so big! 4) No sitting on the table. Don't they know that people in parks eat with their lunch beside them? It's so handy to have my food beside me. I don't even have to reach to get my food. Gravity takes my hand there. 5) Woof, Woof can't eat the food. Can you believe my parents won't feed my dog? He would starve if I didn't sneak him food. They said, he isn't made to get food on him. But I know it just wipes off. They're tricking me. My mom has got off spaghetti sauce, yogurt, milk, just to name a few.
I'm off to lunch myself. Boring peanut butter with raspberry jam. When will my mom break out of this rut!
Later,
Lil' e
I've been busy, too busy to write. School, gymnastics, and digging have kept me very, very busy. Also, I'm a worker. My mommy, she tries to be a worker, but I'M the worker. I do so many helpful things. I get out the carpet cleaner and spray it on the rug. My mom wasn't very excited I did it without her permission but I'm BIG now. I can do things myself. Then I was a worker when I cut the papers with scissors. I needed to write to Mimi and Papa but didn't have any notecards, so I made some. It was the best because after I cut, we got to use the tape to fix the paper. The next day, I even did it again. I cut up some paper, then I repaired it using tape. Tape is hard to get out and it took most of the roll to fix the paper. Now, I can't find the scissors anymore. They aren't in the drawer. We need to buy more!
In just about any situation, I can be a worker. However, while eating I prefer to be an animal. Kitties are loud when they eat. I am, too. I meow and really focus on tearing the food up my hands. My family doesn't appreciate it and try to get me to be quiet but all kitties need to eat so I stay at the table. Other days I'm a dog. Dogs, they don't use their hands. They eat with only their mouth. I do too. No hands allowed when eating like a dog. Eating cereal as a dog is very, very fun. Fitting my face in the bowl requires difficult thinking. I use my nose, tongue, cheek, anything I can to get the food where I can grab it with my lips. Then there is the whole thing about drinking milk with your tongue. It is so good when it doesn't come out of a glass. After I'm a dog, I usually get to be a worker...cleaning up the mess with a broom.
There are a few rules while eating that are real joy robbers. 1) No throwing food. (Can you believe that?) Food is fun. It sticks to the wall when it is thrown. 2) No squeezing food. (complete stiffling of creativity!) Oh the sounds and textures squeezed food have. Yogurt even makes noises and tastes better when licks, unlike applesauce which is too runny when squeezed. I can't believe my mom and dad would rob me of such a powerful educational tool! 3) I can't pour the salad dressing by myself. This is unfair!!! I'm so big! 4) No sitting on the table. Don't they know that people in parks eat with their lunch beside them? It's so handy to have my food beside me. I don't even have to reach to get my food. Gravity takes my hand there. 5) Woof, Woof can't eat the food. Can you believe my parents won't feed my dog? He would starve if I didn't sneak him food. They said, he isn't made to get food on him. But I know it just wipes off. They're tricking me. My mom has got off spaghetti sauce, yogurt, milk, just to name a few.
I'm off to lunch myself. Boring peanut butter with raspberry jam. When will my mom break out of this rut!
Later,
Lil' e
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I'm Eight -- Big E
For my birthday Celebration, I watched my new favorite sport, ice hockey.
I LOVE the spiders in my tree. Here is a picture of one that I took with my new camera that my grandpa gave me.
I'm Eight now. This is a BIG deal but my parents aren't making a big deal about it. I should be able to stay up longer than Lil' e. (He is only two!!!!) However, do you think my parents let me stay up???? NO they don't. Next, I should be able to do my hair, my way, any day! Most of the time, my mom let's me do my hair. However, there are some days where she insists on doing it. This makes me mad because it gets all puffy and sticks up and gets fluffy. I DO NOT like it. I'm eight. I should be able to do my hair myself!
Then there is the issue with Lil' e. I love him but he bugs me sometimes. He interferes with my alone time. I don't like that. I sneak into my bedroom or they playroom, hoping that he doesn't find me. He also tries to take my stuff, especially when he is supposed to be napping. This is NOT fair. IT IS MINE, NOT HIS. Do you think my parents punish him justly???? NEVER. This too, I do not like.
Then there is the issue where I let Lil' e use my things and he doesn't respect them. For instance, I let him borrow my favorite headband, a blue one that Grammy bought me at Justice. You read right, it is my favorite headband because that's the kind of sister I am. He used it all day, putting it around his neck so that he could put his dog's neck in the loop, keeping his dog check to check with him all day long. At the end of the day, when he was supposed to give it back, he started biting on it. Of course, I didn't like that and I tried to get it off his neck. Lil' e wanted it and he wouldn't let me get it. I grabbed harder, ripping it from around his neck. THEN, I got in trouble for not respecting his body. ME. YES, ME. HE was the one not respecting my things. HE was the one who was ruining it. HE was the one who wouldn't give it back to me. They are so soft on him!
At least I got Grandpa D and Grammy for the weekend. Grandpa D took me to IHOP for pancakes AND Chuck'e cheese. Grammy took me on a Justice shopping spree and I got to spend LOTS of time with friends going to an ice hockey game, in 'n out, and frozen yogurt. It was the best birthday yet!
Best,
Big E
Then there is the issue with Lil' e. I love him but he bugs me sometimes. He interferes with my alone time. I don't like that. I sneak into my bedroom or they playroom, hoping that he doesn't find me. He also tries to take my stuff, especially when he is supposed to be napping. This is NOT fair. IT IS MINE, NOT HIS. Do you think my parents punish him justly???? NEVER. This too, I do not like.
Then there is the issue where I let Lil' e use my things and he doesn't respect them. For instance, I let him borrow my favorite headband, a blue one that Grammy bought me at Justice. You read right, it is my favorite headband because that's the kind of sister I am. He used it all day, putting it around his neck so that he could put his dog's neck in the loop, keeping his dog check to check with him all day long. At the end of the day, when he was supposed to give it back, he started biting on it. Of course, I didn't like that and I tried to get it off his neck. Lil' e wanted it and he wouldn't let me get it. I grabbed harder, ripping it from around his neck. THEN, I got in trouble for not respecting his body. ME. YES, ME. HE was the one not respecting my things. HE was the one who was ruining it. HE was the one who wouldn't give it back to me. They are so soft on him!
At least I got Grandpa D and Grammy for the weekend. Grandpa D took me to IHOP for pancakes AND Chuck'e cheese. Grammy took me on a Justice shopping spree and I got to spend LOTS of time with friends going to an ice hockey game, in 'n out, and frozen yogurt. It was the best birthday yet!
Best,
Big E
Friday, October 8, 2010
Me and Woof Woof -- Lil' e
Woof Woof in my school cubby. He waits for me the WHOLE time.
He doesn't even get frustrated that I'm not hurrying.
I've finally found someone who gets me -- Woof Woof, my dog. He doesn't make me go to the bathroom when I don't want. He doesn't make me eat anything I don't like or make me go somewhere I don't want to go. He lets me throw balls at the ceiling or the walls. He lets me throw my food or feel my applesauce with both hands like its mud.He doesn't even get frustrated that I'm not hurrying.
Woof Woof is not without his trouble though. Yesterday he threw my sandwich all over the back seat!!! My mom gave me a cut-up sandwich instead of my usual snack after school and Woof Woof did NOT like that. He dumped out the bowl and then threw the pieces all over the back seat. My mom tried to get me in trouble but I let her know that Woof Woof was the one who threw it. He had to go into a time-out. I hated to get him in trouble, but someone had to be honest for him.
Writing about food reminds me of some completely unrealistic expectations my family has at the dinner table. The way I understand it, is we need to eat the food on the plate. SOOOO, why should they care if I throw my chicken up in the air and eat it off the table or chair or floor where it lands? It shouldn't matter what has been done with it as long as I eat it!
I did make one mistake this week but my dad didn't even let me repair it and make it better. Actually, this wasn't my mistake but I did participate in it. First of all, who gives a two year old a glass plate???? Answer: my dad. Second, if you make a mess, shouldn't you be able to clean it up??? Answer: that's what they teach me at Montessori school but according to my dad, HE needs to clean it up. (Why does he even send me to school if he isn't going to work on the things that they work on with me?) Anyways, back to the incident. My dad gave me a glass plate. I finished my dinner. I was so excited about it because I was getting ice cream that I began to shove the plate onto the floor. It's easier for me to get it off the floor than reach all the way up onto the table to grab it. (I have to put my dishes away after eating.)
My dad started yelling, "NO, NO, NO." I knew he was going to stop me so I shoved harder. Well, my plate landed on the floor and broke into lots of pieces. It was so cool -- the loud noise, the individual pieces flying everywhere and parts of my chicken intermingled with it all. I loved it. So,I laughed. My dad didn't think it was so funny. I offered to pick it up. He wouldn't let me. I screamed and kicked my feet but he still didn't let me. In fact, he made me go into the other room for a time out!!!! I didn't even get to watch him clean it up. How am I going to learn for the next time I make a mess???? They would be very disappointed in him at my school. He is not doing modeling very well at all.
I think I might tell my teacher, Ms. Michelle. Maybe she can help me help my daddy, so I can learn things faster.
Later,
Lil' e
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
What I Know -- Big E
On Sunday, I will be eight years old. I'm almost older than my mom, but not quite. I'm sure this year I'll pass her in height. After all, I'm at her chest now. In a year, I'm sure I'll have passed her. We'll see whose boss then!
In my eight years, I've come to know many things. First of all, it pays to be mean. It pays to be mean when someone is bullying you and not respecting your body, your words, or your things. If they aren't listening to you, well, sometimes you have to stand up for yourself with a little shove -- to let them know you won't be an easy target. This knowledge works with Lil' e who regularly likes to bother me when I'm playing and in one swoop destroys everything I've been playing with. I holler for my mom and before she gets there, I push him. He gets in trouble for not respecting my things. I, on the other hand, rarely get caught. He's a boy. He doesn't cry when I push him. And, he's only told on my once. I'll take those odds. Maybe next time, I'll even push him away before he destroys anything.
Next, I've learned that spiders are really cool. We have a family of spiders, orb weavers, in our trees. They make the most beautiful webs. My dad destroys the web if it is in the walkway. He's making them move up the tree and I'm a little mad. I can't stand eye to eye and look at them anymore. Doesn't he know you shouldn't disturb natural art? Someday I'm going to have my own trees and let the spiders build webs wherever they want.
Third, ice hockey is WAYYYY COOOLLLL!!!! I can't believe that people get to play a sport where you can slam up against someone. I asked my mom if she could sign me up for a team. She asked me when I would fit it in. Of course, there is no place! She has my schedule so full I can't even have alone time! Well, we're trying to work it out. At any rate, me and some of my friends are going to a game this Sunday for my birthday! Then, we get to go to In 'n Out for dinner AND then frozen yogurt. Grammy and Grandpa Del Valle will be here so you know I'll get chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast on Saturday AND Sunday. This will be the best weekend ever!
I suppose at the end of the day, my Mom isn't completely worthless. After all, she introduced me to hockey.
Off to find some spiders,
Big E
In my eight years, I've come to know many things. First of all, it pays to be mean. It pays to be mean when someone is bullying you and not respecting your body, your words, or your things. If they aren't listening to you, well, sometimes you have to stand up for yourself with a little shove -- to let them know you won't be an easy target. This knowledge works with Lil' e who regularly likes to bother me when I'm playing and in one swoop destroys everything I've been playing with. I holler for my mom and before she gets there, I push him. He gets in trouble for not respecting my things. I, on the other hand, rarely get caught. He's a boy. He doesn't cry when I push him. And, he's only told on my once. I'll take those odds. Maybe next time, I'll even push him away before he destroys anything.
Next, I've learned that spiders are really cool. We have a family of spiders, orb weavers, in our trees. They make the most beautiful webs. My dad destroys the web if it is in the walkway. He's making them move up the tree and I'm a little mad. I can't stand eye to eye and look at them anymore. Doesn't he know you shouldn't disturb natural art? Someday I'm going to have my own trees and let the spiders build webs wherever they want.
Third, ice hockey is WAYYYY COOOLLLL!!!! I can't believe that people get to play a sport where you can slam up against someone. I asked my mom if she could sign me up for a team. She asked me when I would fit it in. Of course, there is no place! She has my schedule so full I can't even have alone time! Well, we're trying to work it out. At any rate, me and some of my friends are going to a game this Sunday for my birthday! Then, we get to go to In 'n Out for dinner AND then frozen yogurt. Grammy and Grandpa Del Valle will be here so you know I'll get chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast on Saturday AND Sunday. This will be the best weekend ever!
I suppose at the end of the day, my Mom isn't completely worthless. After all, she introduced me to hockey.
Off to find some spiders,
Big E
Monday, September 27, 2010
I'm not taking a nap! -- Lil' e
My mom just doesn't seem to believe me when I tell her I'm not tired. She makes me go to bed anyways, to have a nap! Well, I'll have it no more. No more naps. Just to get my point across, I got out of my bed, pooped on the rug and then some more on the hardwood floor and then waited for my mom to find me. I stepped in my poop so you know I would have gotten in way more trouble if I walked around...so I did wait for her. When she found me, I smiled my most flirtatious smile and told her that I did a BIG poop and then a little poop. I also showed her the pee-pee on the rug so she could make it dry again.
I'm not sure my mom got the picture because she still made me take a nap. AND she made my room dark by closing the shades the entire way. I'm not very happy about this situation and I refuse to go to sleep. We'll see how many days it takes her to finally get the message that my "not listening to her" isn't a sign of being tired and thus, needing to nap. Rather, it is a sign that I'm more mature and wise now at two years and nine months so I don't really need to listen to her.
I know not to run into the street. In fact, today I opened the door and ran out to our cars parked in front of our garage while my mom was making breakfast. My Dad came out to tell me that I couldn't go outside by myself but I assured him that "no cars in the street, Daddy." He obviously could see that I'm really fine at this age. I don't need adult supervision, only someone to fix my food and get me more water when I need it.
This weekend we went to "open houses" but we only got to go inside to one. I keep asking to go to "open houses" because I love that I can run around and go upstairs/ downstairs and see new places. I'm not always excited about staying in the car but I do get to see lots of parks. Our house has open house, too. I love our Realtor, he's cool. I say hi to him and give him high fives. He likes to hear my stories, too. This real estate thing is exciting but I don't want to leave Jim and Flo. I love running outside to say hi to them. I like going over to their house to eat and sit in the cool air conditioning. Whenever, I hear them out by my window, I rush over to say, "HI, Jim. Hi, Flo."
I don't think I'll find neighbors like them so I'm not really sure I want to move. I really don't want to have my own room. Too much space! Who needs space? I love sleeping as close to issy as possible. I love giggling and telling stories when lights are out. She keeps me company and snuggles with me when I'm scared. Why would I want to leave that?
Space is overrated. I don't want to move.
Later,
Lil' e
I'm not sure my mom got the picture because she still made me take a nap. AND she made my room dark by closing the shades the entire way. I'm not very happy about this situation and I refuse to go to sleep. We'll see how many days it takes her to finally get the message that my "not listening to her" isn't a sign of being tired and thus, needing to nap. Rather, it is a sign that I'm more mature and wise now at two years and nine months so I don't really need to listen to her.
I know not to run into the street. In fact, today I opened the door and ran out to our cars parked in front of our garage while my mom was making breakfast. My Dad came out to tell me that I couldn't go outside by myself but I assured him that "no cars in the street, Daddy." He obviously could see that I'm really fine at this age. I don't need adult supervision, only someone to fix my food and get me more water when I need it.
This weekend we went to "open houses" but we only got to go inside to one. I keep asking to go to "open houses" because I love that I can run around and go upstairs/ downstairs and see new places. I'm not always excited about staying in the car but I do get to see lots of parks. Our house has open house, too. I love our Realtor, he's cool. I say hi to him and give him high fives. He likes to hear my stories, too. This real estate thing is exciting but I don't want to leave Jim and Flo. I love running outside to say hi to them. I like going over to their house to eat and sit in the cool air conditioning. Whenever, I hear them out by my window, I rush over to say, "HI, Jim. Hi, Flo."
I don't think I'll find neighbors like them so I'm not really sure I want to move. I really don't want to have my own room. Too much space! Who needs space? I love sleeping as close to issy as possible. I love giggling and telling stories when lights are out. She keeps me company and snuggles with me when I'm scared. Why would I want to leave that?
Space is overrated. I don't want to move.
Later,
Lil' e
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
School -- Lil' e
I've officially begun my endless years of school. At the ripe age of 2 years and 9 months, my mother has thrown me to the wolves and made me go to school. Would you expect anything less?
Potty training has been an issue with us because in order to go to school play in the sandbox or play with the Stop signs (for the bikes), I had to become potty trained since no one can wear pull-ups there. I've NOT been happy about it. I love pull-ups. I never have to stop what I'm doing in order to go to the bathroom. Who wants to stop building the world's largest buildings to take care of that kind of business? Not me! It ruins my creativity when I have to stop. When I return, I don't know what I was doing and I have to think about it so much that usually I give up and just clean the whole thing up.
It happened today. I was building with my lil' Legos. My mom MADE me stop and go to the bathroom AND take off my night pull-up. (She lets me wear one at night, thank goodness!) This was not pleasing to me but she threatened me as she always does and made me do it. THEN, when I went to the potty I asked for privacy. Who should have to ask? She should know better. Well, I could see her shadow just around the corner. So I taught her a lesson, I threw my pull-up at her, which I had worn during the night and told her "go way." That'll teach her!
Lately, I've really been enjoying food. Food can be so many things. Take a few bites of toast and bam, you have a boat. Take a few more bites and you get a ga-ga. (otherwise known as heli-opter) The other day, I made a digger with my mouth. My spaghetti would do in first, I'd chew, then I'd use my tongue to push it back out. It went all the way to the floor, in a pile. This was amazing. It was just like a digger, scooping things up and then dumping them out. You can imagine my mother's response -- utter amazement at my brilliant mind. Please! Good mother's respond that way. Conversely, my mom didn't appreciate my creativity. She gave me a time out. She was so mean, she didn't let me be a digger again AND she made me eat my spaghetti. Something about having just mopped the floor...this is child cruelty!
Also annoying is the whole toast issue. I LOVE toast with butter. But my mom puts the butter on the toast and it MELTS. I can't see it again. I don't want the butter to melt. So I cry. And she lets me. I flop on the seat and she still doesn't care. I screamed, "I don't want the butter to melt!" and she didn't fix it. I want Mimi or Grammy back. THEY understand me. They would have made the butter not melt; I know it.
Later,
Lil' e
Potty training has been an issue with us because in order to go to school play in the sandbox or play with the Stop signs (for the bikes), I had to become potty trained since no one can wear pull-ups there. I've NOT been happy about it. I love pull-ups. I never have to stop what I'm doing in order to go to the bathroom. Who wants to stop building the world's largest buildings to take care of that kind of business? Not me! It ruins my creativity when I have to stop. When I return, I don't know what I was doing and I have to think about it so much that usually I give up and just clean the whole thing up.
It happened today. I was building with my lil' Legos. My mom MADE me stop and go to the bathroom AND take off my night pull-up. (She lets me wear one at night, thank goodness!) This was not pleasing to me but she threatened me as she always does and made me do it. THEN, when I went to the potty I asked for privacy. Who should have to ask? She should know better. Well, I could see her shadow just around the corner. So I taught her a lesson, I threw my pull-up at her, which I had worn during the night and told her "go way." That'll teach her!
Lately, I've really been enjoying food. Food can be so many things. Take a few bites of toast and bam, you have a boat. Take a few more bites and you get a ga-ga. (otherwise known as heli-opter) The other day, I made a digger with my mouth. My spaghetti would do in first, I'd chew, then I'd use my tongue to push it back out. It went all the way to the floor, in a pile. This was amazing. It was just like a digger, scooping things up and then dumping them out. You can imagine my mother's response -- utter amazement at my brilliant mind. Please! Good mother's respond that way. Conversely, my mom didn't appreciate my creativity. She gave me a time out. She was so mean, she didn't let me be a digger again AND she made me eat my spaghetti. Something about having just mopped the floor...this is child cruelty!
Also annoying is the whole toast issue. I LOVE toast with butter. But my mom puts the butter on the toast and it MELTS. I can't see it again. I don't want the butter to melt. So I cry. And she lets me. I flop on the seat and she still doesn't care. I screamed, "I don't want the butter to melt!" and she didn't fix it. I want Mimi or Grammy back. THEY understand me. They would have made the butter not melt; I know it.
Later,
Lil' e
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