Too Many Cooks

I feel that this series of pictures speaks for itself.  Ellie is getting very interested in playing with the same toys as Margaret, and sometimes it gets, if not shovey, at least a little shouldery.

Loansharking

When I was a child, my father would tell me these tales of life during the depression where they couldn’t afford to heat their house*, and all the children worked hard and contributed all their earnings to the family, and things were better than they were in the 80s, where children were selfish and didn’t even have paper routes.**

Ellie appears to have heard these same tales this summer, since she is currently involved in exploring sources of income.  Of course, she decided to try to take a hard line with Leo on his borrowing from the spare change/pacifier bucket on his bedside table.  He seemed to think that it was his, but she knew better, and told him what was what.

She was then shocked to find out that he considered that tray his property.  After all, it had touched her pacifier, and so it ought to be hers, right?

And then shock gave way to chagrin.

But, you know, you can’t blame a girl for trying, can you?

*They lived in Florida, so I’m less impressed by this than I was as a child.

**Since I was only allowed to ride my bicycle where they could see me from the house, and there were only 4 neighbors in that space, only one of which took the paper, I’m not sure how I was supposed to have a paper route, but that doesn’t matter.

More Comparisons

Here is Margaret, in the snow, in the swing, on January 2o, 2011.

Here is Ellie, in the snow, in the swing, on December 31, 2012.  At, you know, 4:04 pm.

So that’s something.  And in looking for the picture of Margaret, I found the blog post that went with the picture, and reread it, and realized that I have not learned much in two years of parenthood.

Because the smiley baby in the picture became a not-smiley baby when a load of snow fell on her from the branch above.

And indeed, that is why we are now inside, because left to Margaret, we would still be outside, freezing in the slushy, wet, nasty snow.

Christmas, Part 1

Ellie is down for her nap, and Margaret is mostly involved in playing with Ellie’s toys, because they are so awesome.  (All right, now she’s started wandering all over the house and panicking when it is suggested that she might stay in one of the areas where we can see where she is.  Because, you know, all these new toys and what she NEEDS right now is Ellie’s battered teething ring.  Silly monkey.)

So this morning went well.  Margaret  responded to church last night by waiting until mass started and then saying over and over in loud and piercing tones “I want to go home.  I want my coat and hat and I want to go home.  I want to go home.”  So Leo took her away, an put her in the car, and she fell asleep.  So she napped from 5 until 6:20, and then stayed up until 8:30.  This was nice, because she got to be at the party, and she slept in a bit this morning, which gave me time to get breakfast ready.

She came down, and the children opened their stockings.

This method was not going fast enough.

Ellie was more interested in standing, but Margaret helped her with her stuff, so it got looked at.

And then Margaret was done, and looked laconically around for more presents. 

But we had breakfast first.  There are no pictures of breakfast, because it was a rough-and-tumble sort of meal, where biscuits were eaten quickly, both with and without jam.  (We’re having brunch at Leo’s parents’ house in not too very long, so it’s not like we needed an elaborate breakfast.  Stop looking at me like that.)

And then we opened presents.  Margaret was very helpful with this.  And actually, though Ellie wanted nothing more than to clutch a tube of orajel in her clammy little paw, she was also rather helpful with the ripping of the paper and the general mayhem.

And Mom, just for you, here’s the video of opening Madeline.  And I realize on watching it that it looks like I stole her toy, but that’s really not how it was at the time.

I’m the King

Last night, at one of the many parties that fill the Christmas season with Leo’s family (seriously, there was one year where we had 14 parties on the 12 days of Christmas), there were crackers.

This made me cheerful.  Not because I like crispy breadstuffs, but because I like festive explosives with paper hats.

And so does Margaret.

Ellie was more interested in ripping them up, but that is only to be expected of someone of her age and station.

Someone at our table told Margaret that she was a princess, and she said “Now, I’m a King!”  My heart melted. 

The Pokey

I think that for Christmas, someone should get her a tin cup and possibly a harmonica.*

*Actually, there are tin cups as part of the furniture of Margaret’s kitchen, so she only needs a harmonica.

She Does Sleep

So Margaret has more or less given up her nap. We still put her in her pjs and put her in her room for quiet time (or, you know, run laps around the room and rearrange the furniture time), but it’s rare that she sleeps.

And then yesterday, I felt like a nature photographer who has caught a white tiger doing something that white tigers only do rarely, and never in public, because I was in her room and I actually got footage of Margaret falling asleep.

It was amazing.  We’re hoping to get a little bit of a nap on Christmas, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.  Luckily, we discovered tonight at the first of our Christmas parties that it is pretty easy to distract the Margaret from thoughts of mayhem with a little judiciously placed televisual entertainment.