Bee has got this zany sort of humor that reminds me so much of me at his age (and, um, me right now, actually). His latest method of self-amusement is asking if he can change his name, and I'm all, sure, knock yourself out. He hasn't quite yet settled on the perfect title, but somehow all the candidates bear a close semblance to super-hero identities. Humble and funny.
Zee insists (with his signature scowl) that he is not any good at reading, though he reads quite fluently, and that he is not any good at soccer, though he's improved about twelve hundred percent since this time last year. He's quite feisty in the goal, and particularly good at running alongside the play, coaching members of both teams (his advice is oddly spot-on). If either coach is ever out with the measles, we've totally got it covered.
Em does this thing with his eyes that just makes it hard to be his mother. He bats his eyelashes and smiles like a little imp when he wants something from me, and when he's sad he tilts his chin so he can slide those liquid orbs up and then blink at me**, a la bassett hound style, to ensure I absorb the full extent of his heartbreak. My scolding goes like this: "Don't look at me like that, scold scold scold, etc., and do you not recall me just telling you not to look at me like that?!"
I am in love with the way Elle phrases things. She points to a bald dandelion stem and says, "Mommy, that flower already happened." Today in the van she was doing her typical announcing of whatever she sees on the road, and as a couple on a moped puttered by, she commentated: "And all I see now is a vrooming girl and a vrooming boy." She's also very good at the youngest child syndrome, aka How Might I Make Everyone Else Do My Work For Me; when I tell her to put away her socks she says, "Mmmmn...how 'bout you do it, Mommy?" And when I'm all Not on your life, kiddo, I usually turn around a minute later to find that one of her brothers has done it for her.
She does, however, make really cute worms and ducks from foam shapes (and no, aside from finding her a sticky glue-stick, I did not assist her in any way):
They make me old and keep me young all at the same time. It's confusing, but in a lovely sort of way.
Michael Pollan’s “Cooked”
9 hours ago