Groovin'

Molly was hanging out with Jim the other night, taking turns listening to music.

A little pampering

So I told Molly she needed her bangs trimmed. She said she wanted our hairdresser, Jessica, to do it. After she asked several times I finally caved and said, "OK, I'll make an appointment." Molly ran over to the phone that instant and said, "I'll dial the numbers!" 

So her appointment was this afternoon. I had to wake her up from nap to get there in time and she seemed a little groggy and shy, but when I asked if she wanted to sit on my lap or sit in the chair on her own she said she wanted to sit on her own. I didn't think she meant it, but she did! The salon was crowded and noisy, and Molly was straight-faced in the waiting area, but when Jessica came to get her she was dead set on doing it alone (I went back with them and sat near her reading a book, pretending I wasn't there).

She didn't say much to Jessica and barely smiled. She was even shaking the slightest bit when Jessica put on the cape -- it was killing me -- but she didn't want me involved. She sat still for the whole thing, looking down or up or wherever Jessica told her to. She even agreed to a French braid and sat still for it, including a blow dry for her bangs and hair spray for the braid. 

Here's the result:

   

The braid only lasted about two minutes at home before she wanted is out OUT OUT. I had to chase her down the hall with a camera and she shut her bedroom door in my face, but I worked my way in and snapped some quick shots before she could take it out on her own.

This whole experience made me think of a funny book I just read from the library called the Stay-at-Home-Martyr, which picks on moms who buy expensive shoes and designer clothes for their toddlers but can't be bothered to brush their own hair or put on anything nicer than a dirty old t-shirt. Here I am sitting in my own salon watching my daughter get the full prom-style up-do from my hairdresser just for the fun of it, while I'm wearing a stained t-shirt and a ponytail that's half falling out and paying the (albeit $10) bill. At least she offered me a lick of her beloved lollipop afterward. It's hard to hold a grudge.

Cousins

We had another rockin' trip to visit family, this time bringing the exciting news that we're going to have a new baby. Hooray!!!

I'd like to say that's why we made the trip, but really it was to attend a wool festival. :)

Molly and Lucy check out an alpaca.


Cousins in a row.

The girls watch a sheep dog demonstration. (They got to pet one of the dogs through the fence, but we decided to go when we noticed they had filled a paper plate with grass and clover and were passing it through the fence, trying to feed the dog.)


Animals at a festival can't compare with a real farm with real animals owned by your own cousins.

Molly meets the donkeys.


Lucy goes for a ride.
So does Freddy.

And what trip is complete without Grandpa buying ice cream?

Return of the activities

We're back to the toddler grind this week. The little kid activities around town are all starting and, after several weeks of doing not much at all, we jumped right in. Now I remember why we don't do all this stuff. It's too much. Plus, Molly woke up this morning with a stuffed up nose. Ugh!

Our neighborhood play group isn't happening this fall because so many kids have opposing preschool schedules, we just couldn't agree on a day of the week. We seem to be making up for it by hanging out with the neighbor kids even more than usual. Molly even played with the two kids across the street the other day without me there, totally unplanned. They called her over and she stayed there for an hour (they have a huge backyard playground and really cool toys) while I did yard work. Very cool.

We also brought Molly to Jim's dentist appointment this week, just to get her comfortable with the place and to prep for the day when she has her first check-up. The friendly hygienist asked Molly if she had any teeth, and she responded by locking her lips shut for the entire visit. I think she came away with a good impression, though. Mostly she liked the toys in the waiting room.

I've been trying to get a video to load of Molly walking around in my high heels. It sparked a discussion about work and where Molly wants to work when she's my age. I asked if she wants to work with animals or people or computers, etc. She got excited about working with numbers. She just figured out how to count to 20, and I think she thinks that's what working with numbers means. I just asked her again and now she says she'd rather work with letters. She doesn't want to be a writer like Mommy, though. She's pretty clear on that.

Weekend

If I thought I saw little of Molly last week, I saw even less of her this weekend. From the moment my mom arrived, Molly had her hidden away in her bedroom or outside or I don't know where.

I'm glad we took advantage of this for a date night. We probably could have gone away for the weekend and Molly wouldn't have noticed. :)

We did manage some group activities, including a walk in the woods to the Shaker place in Harvard.

Here's Molly in her standard sippy-cup-hair-twirling pose.

Hugging Grandma on the site of some former holy plaque that calls down the wrath of God on those who desecrate it ... something like that. I think hugs are OK, though, right?


And of course, one of Molly's favorite games lately -- hiding in plain sight.


She runs to this hiding spot behind the shelves, waves her arm in front of her and says, "Find me all around." By this she means you must walk around the living room saying things like, "Is Molly under the couch? No. Is she behind the chair? No." If you go on for too long like this, she points to her chest and whispers "I'm right here." Wait longer and she says it louder.

And when somebody (in this case Grandma) finds her ...


We are grateful to any visitor willing to play this game with Molly. Seriously. Very, very grateful.

Toast

Molly just called me into the bedroom, waking up from nap.
I go in and she's grinning, she says:
"My toast."
(big smile)
"My weird toast."
(smile)
"My friendly toast."
(giggles)
"My grape toast."
(rolling around giggling)
"I have so many kinds of toast I can think of."

Me: "Molly, did you have a dream about toast?"
Molly, giggling: "Yes"

Five minutes later, I tell her I'm going to write down her conversation about toast.
She looks at me blankly and says, "About what?"

Quiet play

We are coming to the end of our second week of doing not much at all, and I think Molly has finally settled into the routine. :)

In fact, yesterday was almost eerie. I hardly saw her all day. She spent all morning and afternoon in her bedroom listening to her preschool CD from Ganny and Pappa, playing with backgammon pieces, making shapes on the floor with beaded necklaces, and I don't know what else. She would head down the hallway to get her sippy cup or something and I would look up from my book a half hour later and realize she was still gone. So I'd sneak down the hall and find her sitting on the floor with barrettes and ponytail holders spread around her and hear her singing along to the 'days of the week' song. OK.

We set up the zebra tent yesterday, but she didn't spend much time in it. I think it freaked her out that I let her eat a snack in the living room.


More independent play.


The kids started school here this week so we've been hanging out at the bus stop in the mornings -- fun for Molly, but I feel like a big dork rushing down there and then just standing around waiting with all the families who actually have kids getting on the bus. Teddy and the other neighborhood kids start preschool next week. In fact, pretty much everybody Molly knows from playgroup is starting school now, except for our buddy Rhys. Molly packed a backpack for school this week (mostly with clothes and her dry erase markers) and keeps telling me, "Tomorrow I go to preschool" and things like that. Poor kid. She's got a while to wait.