Of People and Penguins

Claire:  "Did you know that all mammal groups have homosexual members, but that humans are the only mammals that display homophobia?"

Jane:  "What does that mean?"

Claire:  "You know, like animals have couples with two males or two females.  But only in humans do other members of the group have any kind of problem with it."

Jane:  "Oh, like the penguins that have two dads?  But none of the other penguins care?"

Claire:  "Yes, exactly."

Margot: "Wait, WHAT?  Penguins are both male and female?!"

Everyone:  [silence]

Claire:  "Homosexual, Margot.  Not hermaphrodite."

Explain This

Jane recently borrowed a purse from me.  When I got it back, these items were inside.  I'm really not sure what to make of this.

You've Got to Be Kidding

I received this email from Margot (via her Nook).  Guess what?  NO.

And I strongly suspect that "we" got the first book during the evening when Margot got ahold of the Barnes & Noble password and went on an unauthorized book buying spree.

On Basketball

Me: "Guess which team your basketball game is against this weekend?"
Claire: "Which?"
Me: "Margot and Jane's.  But of course you can't play because of the broken finger."
Claire: "Yeah, that's too bad."
Me:"Wait, did you want to play against your sisters?"
Claire: "Yes. I want to smite them."
[pause]
Claire: "Well, I don't want to smite Jane, since it's her first year.  But I do want to smite Margot."
Me: [Silence]
Claire: "Then next year, I will smite them both."

America's Finest News Source

We were at a cafe recently where the girls discovered paper copies of The Onion. Don and I began talking about about some of our favorite Onion stories from years past, some of which required a bit of context-setting (e.g., that Balkan words have few vowels).

Don:  "So, the headline was Clinton Deploys Vowels to Bosnia."
Claire: "Ok, that is HILARIOUS."
Margot: "Wait, what? He deployed his bowels???"

Girls

Dear mothers of girls:

Here's Jane's self-portrait and self-description from a "We Are America" project that her 2nd grade class did. This is what we're going for, right?

Every now and then, my daughters do something like this, and I feel like this parenting thing is working out just fine.

The Art of Persusion, Part II

Margot continues to hone her persuasive writing skills. I found this note on my desk this morning:

Grandma!

Jane:  "Mom, is Grandma retired?"

Me:  "No, she still has her same job."

Jane: "Oh, good.  I love visiting her work."

Jane (whispering to self):  "Yeah, Grandma!  Still going strong!!"

Um, Thanks?

The other day, Claire sent me two items, neither of which included any explanatory text.  Make of them what you will:

Item 1:

On Fri, Oct 25, 2013 at 6:30 AM, Claire wrote:

Part Of Our World (@PartOfOurWorld) tweeted at 10:00 PM on Thu, Oct 24, 2013:

Stress Relieving Foods:
-Bananas 
-Pasta 
-Almonds 
-Grapes 
-Green Tea 
-Oatmeal 
-Chocolate 
-Water melon
-Cornflakes 
-Tuna

(https://twitter.com/PartOfOurWorld/status/393557588182192128)

Item 2:

This is How We Learn

Jane to her friend:  "Hey, Z, do you raise your hand very much in class?"

Z:  "No, not too much."

Jane:  "Yeah, me neither."

Me:  "Why don't you raise your hand very much in class?"

Jane:  "I just prefer to listen to everyone else and learn from their mistakes."

Brevity is the Soul of Wit

Those of you who know Don know that he insists on using a flip phone that was developed around 1987.  (See photo).  This, not surprisingly, renders him the subject of much disparagement from friends and family alike. 

Claire, our resident comedian (and devotee of her own, more high-tech cell phone as well as all Chuck Norris jokes), issued an incessant stream of phone-related insults this weekend.  For some reason, strolling around Newport, Rhode Island seemed to bring out her best, geeky one-liners.  They included the following:

"Dad, does your phone run on stored power from the Big Bang?"

"Hey Dad – was your phone invented by the ancient Sumerians?"

"I’m pretty sure Dad’s phone preceded the creation of the wheel."

"When homo-habilus went to the place between two rivers, they found Dad’s phone."

And, in homage to Newport (est. circa 1639), “What's older, Dad?  These buildings or your phone?”

Our Life is a Fairy Tale. Sort of.

The other day I walked into the kitchen and was amazed to see that one of the kids had filled up our "jobs" whiteboard with tasks.  For a split second, I actually believed my children had become so responsible that they were now assigning chores to themselves.

A closer examination revealed, of course, that no such thing had happened.  Instead, I found this "anonymous" note, which addresses a familiar theme:

Contributing Editor

Claire continues her efforts to ensure that this blog remains current.  Most recently, she texted me this picture of a reminder note that she had left for me, which Jane apparently edited.  Claire's text said, "I see a future blog post!"

The note was accompanied by this exchange, which confirms that my response rate to her text remains sub-par:

And, lastly, let's enjoy whatever remaining time we have with a phonetic speller in the house.  So enoing, but they do eventually learn to spell correctly.

Noteworthy

On the way to school this morning, Claire was being particularly argumentative.  Don was driving.  I was mainly arguing with Claire.  Margot was unusually quiet.  Then she handed me this (which will immediately take its place in the annals of Wiest-ette notes):

The Poster Child for Reading

This is a recent email from the Boston Public Library Foundation.  Note the reader who is prominently featured on the right.  Claire is now the actual poster child for reading in Boston.  Given her history, this is beyond perfect.

The Art of Persuasion

One afternoon, I received this email from Barnes & Noble:

Clearly, the online form that lets you beg your parents for Chimpact didn't have enough room for Margot to make her case.  She followed up with this dizzying combination of logic, persuasion, and attempted guilt-tripping:

I immediately let her teacher know that the persuasive writing instruction seemed to be sinking in.

How to Star in this Blog

Claire, now a fan of this blog, has been lamenting my failure to post regularly.  Here's the conversation I recently overheard:

Claire: "It's because of us that Mom's writing fewer blog posts."

Margot: "Really?!"

Claire:  "Yes.  We need to be nicer to her."

Margot:  "We need to be funnier."

Assistant Blogger

Claire's at the point where she can basically write these blog entries for me:

Tattling in the Modern Era

Latest and greatest use for Claire's texting capabilities:  ratting out her sister.

Signs of Affection

So . . . there's not really a lot I can add to this one.

Texts from Claire

Because she's riding the city bus to and from a class this month, Claire finally won her battle for a cell phone. So far she's been great at letting me know where she is and where she's going next.

My responsiveness, on the other hand, apparently leaves something to be desired.

Wonders of Technology

This spring, Jane's class was discussing how technology changes the world we live in.  Each child was asked to identify a piece of technology and explain how it had affected people.  Jane chose the television.

Her reason?  "Because now that there is TV, people don't have to watch movies on their tiny phone screens."

One morning shortly before the end of the school year, we arrived at Jane's classroom a bit early.  No one else was there yet, and the classroom door was closed.

Jane anxiously peered in through the window, confirming that the lights were off and the room was empty.  As she walked toward her cubby to hang up her backpack, I heard her mutter, "And now I have proof that teachers don't sleep in their classrooms."

So, that's been cleared up.

Predators and Whatnot

Overheard through a closed bathroom door:

"Razor blades . . . top predator of the armpit!"  (followed by slightly crazed cackle).

Ah, the mind of a tween.  What to say, other than that this is an interesting merger of personal hygiene and Wiest-ette obsession with the animal kingdom?

Overheard at the Castle: A Mash-Up

The girls are playing some sort of game with a castle and many tiny dolls and animals.  I am eavesdropping.  Prime selections from what I overheard: 

Margot:  "WAIT! Isn't rose hip an antidote to a love potion?" 
Claire:  "No - unless it's mixed with lavender." 
Margot:  "Oh, of course.  Instruct the physicians to prepare it."

* * * *

Margot:  "Ok, did they all get proposals?"  
Claire:  "Yes.  My girl's came from the koi in the pond."  
Margot:  "Okay.  And she accepted?"  
Claire:  "Of course."
Margot:  "Great.  My girl accepted hers as well."
Claire:  "Also, he is giant koi.  Do you know why?"  
Margot:  "He is enchanted?"  
Claire:  "No.  I feed him pumpernickel.  Constantly."

* * * *

Claire:  "My princess is Naomi.  What is yours named?"
Jane (interrupting):  "I don't know . . . Jake?"
Margot:  "Jane!  Stop bothering us.  That's not funny.  Claire, would her prince be Luke?" 
Jane:  "How about Poop?"
Claire & Margot: "JANE!!"

* * * *

Claire:  "Time for their status updates."
Margot (pointing):  "Engaged.  Engaged.  Not engaged - she's on the younger side."

* * * *

Claire:  "This one gave up a number of her children for adoption, since she didn't really like them."
Margot:  "Yes, and mine adopted them."
Claire:  "Well, if the Fairy Queen doesn't like the children, one of her husbands finds a suitable nurse and they are raised by the nurse.  She kept about 21 of them, and gave away the 14 she didn't care for."
Margot:  "And her husbands have an ability to find very kind nurses, so the children are happy."

* * * *

Claire:  "Okay.  The princesses have achieved all of their reforms out in the world.  Now they can come back."
Margot:  "Yes.  And now they can do whatever they want."

Mating

Jane has been obsessively watching a series of nature documentaries and has developed a keen interest in animal husbandry.  Practical child that she is, her focus seems to be on the logistics.

Jane:  "How do cows have sex?"
Me:  [leaving this one to Don]
Don:  "Um, like most animals.  The male gets up on top of the female."
Jane (considering):  "Okay.  Do giraffes do it the same way?"
Don:  "Yes, I think so."
Jane:  "But they're so tall!  What if they fall over?"
Don:  "Well, they just have to get up and try it again."
Jane:  "No.  I think they should lie down.  It's safer."

We thought this was the end of the giraffe mating discussion, but it was clearly still weighing on Jane's mind.  The other night at bedtime, this exchange transpired:

Jane:  "Mom, I love you so much.  You're the best mom ever."
Me:  "Jane, thank you - that's so nice.  I love you, too."
Jane:  "Mom?  Don't you really wonder how giraffes mate?"

Guess What?

A few weeks ago, Jane and I were cleaning her room, which had reached a truly horrifying state of chaos.  Or, more accurately, I was cleaning her room.  She was reading books and, in a weak imitation of "helping" me, would occasionally move a toy or a piece of clothing from one place to another.  I eventually insisted that she stop reading and and actually clean.

Instead, she left the room.  After about five minutes, she returned, holding one of her "fancy" notecards.  They look like this:

She silently handed me the card.  I opened it and read the following:

 

 Um, right.  That's why it's called cleaning.

Email, Jane-Style

Our children's prolific phoenics-based correspondence has entered the modern era, with Don's receipt of this email from Jane.  Her tone is so clear that the content of his original note isn't even relevant.

From:  Jane
Date:  January 2, 2013, 11:03:12 AM EST
To:  Dad
Wut in the warald dus that sa.