Little Bug at 2.9April 27, 2010 at 9:46 am | Posted in little bug, Little O, Uncategorized | 13 Comments
Little Buggy has moved up to the three-year-old room at preschool (I guess that happens at two years, nine months). Her teacher informed me last week that the “transition” is going quite well.
“What’s the difference between the two programs?” I asked. (Would a good mother have researched this beforehand? I felt a bit naive.)
In the three-year-old room, the teacher explained, the children are expected to actually sit for circle time. And to be somewhat quiet. Here’s where Little Buggy gets a “needs improvement.”
“She likes to talk,” her teacher said, “all the time.” Apparently she asks a lot of questions, especially when the teacher is reading books. I can just hear her doing this, just as she does at home.
“What does [insert subject of book here] do?” she asks. Which is her way of asking what something is, or what something means. For example, last night we read the book, Who Pooped in the Park? (Really. My sister- and brother-in-law gave us a treasure trove of hand-me-down books. They are both science teachers, however, so many of the books have titles such as What Happens to Water? or the aforementioned scatology.) So last night’s book was interrupted at every turn of the page with “What do you do with poop in the park?” “What do you do with owl pellets?” “What do you do with deer tracks?”
Her teacher also asked me if we had a pet pig at home. Apparently Little Bug told the teacher we have a pet pig who sleeps in Little Buggy’s bed. We have a pig puppet that she loves, named Piglet Murphy. Is this the pet pig? Hmmm.
She loves school, though, obviously, about which I’m thrilled. I quickly upped her school days from two to four, and on Friday mornings she asks me, “Can I go to school today?” which tempts me to send her all five days. I like having her home at least one day, but wouldn’t she be having more fun surrounded by her friends, and jungle gyms, and endless art supplies then being schlepped around town by me? She’ll go five days next year, though, so I’m going to be selfish until then!
Other things Little Buggy likes to say:
If you ask her to do something such as brush her teeth or go potty, “I already did that.” (No, you didn’t…)
When I pick her up from school now she’ll thank me profusely for whatever I put in her lunch box. “Tank you, mommy, for my delicious spaghetti.”
When talking about pirates, “A-boy, minnies!”
Here is what else she likes these days:
Dora the Explorer (the other night I gave her something and she said, “Thank you. Gracias.”). WonderPets (have you ever seen this show on Nick Jr.? I love it. A little pet turtle, duck, and hamster who go around saving other animals while singing opera.)
Her ellie. Last weekend, the ellie got LOST somewhere between naptime and bedtime. She had been out in the backyard putting patio furniture together with Tim, so at 8 p.m. he found himself with a flashlight, in the rain, searching in the bushes for the ellie. I convinced her to sleep with ellie’s “mommy and daddy” — two identical gray elephants I had bought in the hopes that a crisis such as this would never happen, but she knows which is which, and she wasn’t buying it. Two days later, the ellie finally was found in the crack between the bathroom sink and the tub. “Oh, my ellie! I missed you!” she shouted. And immediately lifted up her shirt to nurse it.
She likes to talk about what she’ll be or do when she gets older. “When I get bigger I will play basketball and hockey and ride the schoolbus.”
The other day she exclaimed, “You’re a grown up! You drink coffee! When I get bigger, I will drink coffee. And Diet Coke.”
Sometimes she gets her chronology confused. “When I get smaller, I will go in the baby’s swing!”
She is still sneaking out of bed at night, sometimes, despite our bribing her with SweetTarts in the morning if she stays put. She knows to go to her father’s side of the bed. “Oh, daddy, I love you,” she says as she sidles up to him. He’s helpless to such charms, of course, and so I’m usually aware of her presence in the bed in the middle of the night, although inevitably she’ll say, “OK, I want to go back to my own bed now.”
She is aware of her friends. For example, we’ve recently spent time with two little boys, Rohan and Will, the sons of two of my best friends. She now likes to talk about what they are doing in relation to what she is doing. If she’s eating breakfast, she’ll say. “Rohan is eating breakfast. And Will is eating breakfast!” We have a friend named Ella who comes to play on Fridays. She thinks every little girl who comes over, therefore, is Ella, even if it is Maddie or Leni.
Most happily, she is very sweet to her little brother. She likes to share her ellie with him, and to show off for him. “Watch me, O-dog!” she’ll demand. Yes, we have taken to calling Little O “O-dog” around here, which may have to stop soon. Yesterday we ran into a neighbor who asked Little Bug, “What is your baby brother’s name?” “O-dogger,” she replied. The woman looked at me, confused. Oops.