ST. FRANCIS ALUMNI MOTHER'S BOOK CLUB
BEL CANTO
ANN PATCHETT
ENEMY WOMEN
PAULETTE JILES
THE RED TENT
ANITA DIAMONT
THE PIANO TUNER
DANIEL MASON
THE THINGS THEY CARRIED
TIM O'BRIEN
THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD
ZORA NEALE THURSTON
EMBERS
SANDOR MARAI
DESERT QUEEN
JANET WALLACH
THE DA VINCI CODE
DAN BROWN
BALZAC AND THE LITTLE CHINESE SEAMSTRESS
DAI SIJI
THE BONESETTER'S DAUGHTER
AMY TAN
THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES
SUE MONK KIDD
BREAKING THROUGH
FRANCISCO JIMENEZ
THE DIVE OFF CLAUSEN'S BRIDGE
ANN PACKER
MIDDLESEX
JEFFREY EUGENIDES
THE BEND IN THE RIVER
V.S. NAIPAUL
THIS MUCH I KNOW IS TRUE
WALLY LAMB
WHAT I LOVED
SIRI HUSTVEDT
BRICK LANE
MONICA ALI
ANGLE OF REPOSE
WALLACE STEGNER
BLESSINGS
ANNA QUINDLEN
OLD SCHOOL
TOBIAS WOLFF
KITE RUNNER
KHALED HOSSEINI
TRAVELING MERCIES
ANNE LAMOTT
THE MASTER BUTCHER'S SINGING CLUB
LOUISE ERDRICH
HANNAH COULTER
WENDELL BERRY
THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL
PHILIPPA GREGORY
THE KNOWN WORLD
EDWARD P. JONES
THE SHADOW IN THE WIND
CARLOS RUIZ ZAFON
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Nana V takes on 2 year old
I told some folks I had been to the spa: lots of exercise, especially early in the morning, and not much food. Others I told that I had been bonding with my grandson. Still other I told I had been run ragged and defeated by a two year old. All were true.
I hope that Andrew is not your typical two year old. Surely I am not that old, that out of shape, that an ordinary toddler can reduce me to gibberish. He never stops running, walking, climbing. He doesn’t sit down very often. Not in stroller, not in a high chair, not in a wagon, not in a grocery cart, no never. (See, I am beginning to sound like Green Eggs and Ham, one of our favorite books of the week.)
Every morning the challenge was to run off the excess energy. Some days we walked to Gymboree, a baby gym designed to work out the adults as well as the children. Andrew is not much into group activities, so when Miss Janice asked the children to get into a circle, Andrew was likely to head for the far corner and a climbing tower. The music in our neighborhood Gymboree was heavy on the Beach Boys, music of my generation. Go figure. After Gymboree we would get in the car for an excursion, to take advantage of Andrew’s best hours. Shopping for shoes was good. Off to the mall and the StrideRite store. To get to the store we had to pass a series of fountains with bronze dolphins leaping and swimming. Andrew wanted to join them, so after some 30 minutes of coaxing him along the string of pools, we picked him up and briskly walked the last 50 yards to the store. He did not like having his foot measured (“Cold” he said.) Alas, they no longer have the X ray machines of my childhood, the ones where you could see the bones of your foot inside the shoes. We quickly settled on the only pair of dark Velcro athletic shoes in his size, and forked over the $50.
More shopping for cute fall sweats and polo shirts was not tolerated well by Andrew so he left with the other Nana, after we had determined that he was not quite ready for a 3T jacket. I joined them at a food court where we ordered a Happy Meal for him and Rubios mahi mahi tacos for us. While the food was excellent, the real focus of the meal was on yet another fountain, just adjacent to our table. He was mainly content to run his plastic car (from the Happy Meal) around the edges of the fountain, but of course we didn’t want him to wander more than 5 feet away from us. So it was up and down as we chased and ate in turn. Another little girl was throwing pennies in the fountain with her mom, so I had the bright idea of teaching this old tradition to Andrew. Wrong. He took the coin but did not master the concept of throwing it away. Actually this may be a good personality trait, one we should encourage. But it meant that we had to stand over him at all times, fearful that he would eat the coin. The plastic car was itself an object of curiosity. The back half was hinged and would flip up, including the wheels. “Broken” Andrew said. “Open Doors” he asked. They don’t open, we replied. But then we had never seen such a strange toy. Later my daughter took one look at the toy and pulled and swiveled and announced “Transformer”. Oh yes, the toys of our children’s childhood. Silly Nanas, we should have known.
The day wasn’t over yet. A short nap later, Andrew was ready to rumble in the kiddie pool in the back yard. Dressed for swimming in his swimming diaper, trunks, shirt, and hat, he took the dribbling hose and watered all of his trucks and outside toys. We hoped that the excess would green up the yard, which was dying from a dysfunctional sprinkler system. Even such an innocent activity required close monitoring, as Andrew liked to water the patio (more puddles) and tended to slip and slide in the kiddie pool. Following an hour or so of water play, he needed…..a bath.
The two Nanas were a little tired by this time, so we decided on a clandestine operation. Dinner for Andrew in front of his favority Thomas the Train DVD. My daughter sees television as an Evil Influence and is very strict in allocating his time in front of the screen, so this was definitely off the clock. We wheeled his high chair in front of the screen, fully prepared to wheel it back if we heard her 4runner arrive. Andrew ate heartily and promised not to tell Mommy he had been watching Thomas. The other Nana was especially pleased that we did not get caught. I reminded her that in our childhood we had TV trays just to facilitate this activity.
I hope that Andrew is not your typical two year old. Surely I am not that old, that out of shape, that an ordinary toddler can reduce me to gibberish. He never stops running, walking, climbing. He doesn’t sit down very often. Not in stroller, not in a high chair, not in a wagon, not in a grocery cart, no never. (See, I am beginning to sound like Green Eggs and Ham, one of our favorite books of the week.)
Every morning the challenge was to run off the excess energy. Some days we walked to Gymboree, a baby gym designed to work out the adults as well as the children. Andrew is not much into group activities, so when Miss Janice asked the children to get into a circle, Andrew was likely to head for the far corner and a climbing tower. The music in our neighborhood Gymboree was heavy on the Beach Boys, music of my generation. Go figure. After Gymboree we would get in the car for an excursion, to take advantage of Andrew’s best hours. Shopping for shoes was good. Off to the mall and the StrideRite store. To get to the store we had to pass a series of fountains with bronze dolphins leaping and swimming. Andrew wanted to join them, so after some 30 minutes of coaxing him along the string of pools, we picked him up and briskly walked the last 50 yards to the store. He did not like having his foot measured (“Cold” he said.) Alas, they no longer have the X ray machines of my childhood, the ones where you could see the bones of your foot inside the shoes. We quickly settled on the only pair of dark Velcro athletic shoes in his size, and forked over the $50.
More shopping for cute fall sweats and polo shirts was not tolerated well by Andrew so he left with the other Nana, after we had determined that he was not quite ready for a 3T jacket. I joined them at a food court where we ordered a Happy Meal for him and Rubios mahi mahi tacos for us. While the food was excellent, the real focus of the meal was on yet another fountain, just adjacent to our table. He was mainly content to run his plastic car (from the Happy Meal) around the edges of the fountain, but of course we didn’t want him to wander more than 5 feet away from us. So it was up and down as we chased and ate in turn. Another little girl was throwing pennies in the fountain with her mom, so I had the bright idea of teaching this old tradition to Andrew. Wrong. He took the coin but did not master the concept of throwing it away. Actually this may be a good personality trait, one we should encourage. But it meant that we had to stand over him at all times, fearful that he would eat the coin. The plastic car was itself an object of curiosity. The back half was hinged and would flip up, including the wheels. “Broken” Andrew said. “Open Doors” he asked. They don’t open, we replied. But then we had never seen such a strange toy. Later my daughter took one look at the toy and pulled and swiveled and announced “Transformer”. Oh yes, the toys of our children’s childhood. Silly Nanas, we should have known.
The day wasn’t over yet. A short nap later, Andrew was ready to rumble in the kiddie pool in the back yard. Dressed for swimming in his swimming diaper, trunks, shirt, and hat, he took the dribbling hose and watered all of his trucks and outside toys. We hoped that the excess would green up the yard, which was dying from a dysfunctional sprinkler system. Even such an innocent activity required close monitoring, as Andrew liked to water the patio (more puddles) and tended to slip and slide in the kiddie pool. Following an hour or so of water play, he needed…..a bath.
The two Nanas were a little tired by this time, so we decided on a clandestine operation. Dinner for Andrew in front of his favority Thomas the Train DVD. My daughter sees television as an Evil Influence and is very strict in allocating his time in front of the screen, so this was definitely off the clock. We wheeled his high chair in front of the screen, fully prepared to wheel it back if we heard her 4runner arrive. Andrew ate heartily and promised not to tell Mommy he had been watching Thomas. The other Nana was especially pleased that we did not get caught. I reminded her that in our childhood we had TV trays just to facilitate this activity.
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