Mantra for Parents of 3-Year Olds

Take nothing personally.

When you have a 3-year old and they: put their stinky cute little feet in your face (after you've asked them politely not to repeatedly), hit you, hit the dog, kick the dog, tell you they are going to run away (genetic), prefer their father (to the complete exclusion of their mother), prefer their mother (to the complete exclusion of their father), urinate in the avocado plant, again (it's fertilizing mother), throw dirt in your face, scream at you, refuse to go into the (insert any location here), refuse to leave the (insert any location here), refuse to nap, refuse to take a bath, refuse to eat, I could go on.

All completely age-appropriate behavior. When I was a child, he would have been labeled a spoiled brat and beaten into sobbing submission - thankfully humans have the ability to evolve. We'd die before we'd ever resort to any form of corporal punishment. We have a lot of family meetings. We have a lot of dialogue. We ask a lot of questions. His dad is totally amazing. I am less than, but have decided that my purpose here on earth in this lifetime is to cultivate patience within. Oliver is 'helping' with this project. I get to work on myself daily.

We love him insanely, which is really fortunate for all of us right now.

He's 3 feet high and rising, take nothing personally.

First Day of Preschool

Sheesh...his dad dropped him off, mom picked him up, he was busy in the sandbox. He was so excited. 'I went to Montessori school and I had a lovely time.' He was just squirming! We headed out to Kent's Nursery and bought an oak tree to commemorate the moment + dad's birthday. Checked out the waterfalls and ponds, the lily pads, the bargain area, the trees, the fish, the dogs, the dinosaur tree, the gunnera fountains, the frog and alligator, the incredibly cool staff.

Then, during possibly the most anticipated week of the year, he promptly begins sneezing, sniffing, and coughing, feeling 'punky' and now he'll be missing the rest of the week! Dad felt punky past week or more, so...

We stayed home. We nuggled and ate Fig Newmans and watched the camels in the Gobi desert footage. Played in the yard. A little. It was sunny. It rained. We took a drive in the country to fall asleep for a nap. Now it's a 3-year old film fest with Milo and Otis.

Movies make the punky go away. Really.

Oliver and Freda

So this is Freda, daughter of The Great Mandini and Charley and she IS as pretty as this. Last Tuesday, a lovely warm morning at Lake Padden, they met (in the flesh - he's been reading her blog and looking at her pictures at the salon for more than a year) for the first time, though it was as if they'd always known each other. They just started right in with the play. Into the water. Trading snacks. Easy splashing. Sitting in the sun. It was one of those sweet little moments in life.

Except that Oliver had a leech on his ankle which I just unthinkingly plucked off (it didn't seem to be attached) and started examining. It was about 3/8 of an inch long. So we went home and launched a leech info gathering mission. We had to google, get a library book, but he's totally into it (as am I : )

Turns out they are related to earthworms, annelids (segmented worms). They have 33 or 34 segments (sources, or perhaps it's species differ). Suckers on both ends of their bodies (how convenient), 3 jaws.

3 main classes of leeches (no pronunciation help here, though gnatbobdellida seems like a good password and makes me think of mr. bob dobalina):

Gnatbobdellida - have jaws, bite their hosts with their teeth, and secrete hirudin, an anticoagulent.

Rhyncobdellida - no jaws, but they insert a proboscis into the host, secrete an enzyme called hemetin, which dissolves blood clots (handy!).

Pharyngobdellida - no jaws or teeth - they just swallow things whole, eating mall invertebrates (supposed to be small invertebrates, but I liked the typo better).

Leeches can ingest several times their weight in blood and can survive several months without feeding (again, how handy!).

They have one or more pair of eyes. They have sensory organs on their heads and bodies that detect movement, and fluctuations in light and temperature. They also have chemical receptors on the head that allow them to smell.

FOR MATURE READERS ONLY: Leeches are hermaphrodites, with both male and female sex organs. This perhaps will be interesting when Oliver brings it up in preschool. They also have something called a clitellum (we skipped this part), an area of thickened skin that is only visible during mating (hmmmm...). They reproduce by intertwining their bodies and depositing sperm into each other’s clitellar area (speed-breeding?) - good thing we don't have that capacity. After fertilization, the eggs are in a cocoon, which the leech deposits under a log, on a leaf, or maybe in your daughter's ponytail. They hatch several weeks or months later (oh come ON, is it weeks, or is it months???), mini-leeches. They die after reproducing once or twice (I can relate).

Yes, there was widespread 'medicinal' bloodletting, which was eventually abandoned, though medical researchers have recently rediscovered (or discovered?) some benefits. Leeches produce substances - anti-coagulants, anesthetics. Maybe one day we'll carry leech packs in our first aid kits.

We also learned this week that urine will anesthetize the wound from an urchin spine sting while you get to the medic.

I just never saw parenting quite like this...

The Process of Elimination

This post is now a week+ old, but what's time, eh?

Oh my. Can't keep up with the laundry with this potty-training reality. If you are at all squeamish, please read no further. It is funny. However, yesterday I found myself with my son accidentally knocking the once out of reach most disgusting cat food can from its perch - all over the porch, rocks, etc. Yellow jackets everywhere, the dog pawing the rocks to get more of that glop, batting the yellow jackets with her paw or snapping her teeth. So I hose everything down and attempt to clean the mess.

Then, dog poops in the front yard. Off to get something with which to get rid of that poo, into the Herald bag and to the garbage. Meanwhile, OLIVER has pooped on the grass, so more Herald bags.

And then it was Ro and Oliver both failing to either get the message or make any move to align the pee with a potty in our house, both in the space of 10 minutes. It's comical!

Went to buy more tidy whities for O. and everything seemed to need to have some sort of sport ball motif around the waistband (cac!) or the wrong size. Back to the laundry room...

Dad shows up later in the day with about 18 pair of new plain vanilla undies. Who says chivalry is dead?

Taters

Okay, this is starting to look like a food blog...first harvest. Beautiful, shiny, smooth, new red fingerling potatoes dug from the sweet soil in the evening sun yesterday. Smallest was the size of a grape, largest about the size of a small russet. Oliver was sooooooo excited. And did you see that moon last night?

PIE!

No utensils needed. Mmmmmmmmmmm. This was the first pie of the berry season, a collaboration between the 3 of us and the 3 berries that were ripe in the yard - blueberries, raspberries, currants. The pie looked like a performance art piece, but ooooohhhhhh, did it ever taste great!

95 degrees in the shade.

Wphew! This qualifies as a major heat wave. So what's a guy to do? FIND WATER! These are photos from Oliver's second foray into lake swimming in a week. Last week found him jumping off the dock with his buddy Rowan at Crescent Lake (Lake Crescent?) on the Olympic peninsula. Today, Lake Padden, tonight we were free climbing the sandstone boulders and cooling off in the cool water on the submerged sandstone islands at Larrabee State Park - living in the northwest has its sweet rewards. We're navigating the yard for the coolest places to picnic (for breakfast too!).