Chick or Treat

Our fearless fliers swooped through G’s neighborhood this Halloween night. The dragon-suited Saegen tried at first to consume his treats before hitting up the next house, a strategy he’d ultimately abandon by the sixth or seventh stop when faced with the possibility of being slain by sugary overdose. Olivia, on the other hand, waited to dive into her stash until she got back to G’s house, at which time she had to fend off her parents’ endless requests for more “sharing.”

Know Spring Chickens

Quiz time:

What is the collective noun for a group of chickens?

A) Brood
B) Chattering
C) Clutch
D) Peep
E) All of the above

The answer is E, which means that the above is one mighty cute brood/chattering/clutch/peep of chickens.

Poop Scoop

Christmas came early to our house this year: A surprise visitor finally showed up in Olivia’s potty this morning. Just thought the world would like to share in our joy.

Costume Tomfoolery

I accompanied a chicken of impeccable (im-peckable? – notice the absence of a beak) splendor to a Halloween party this evening. I was determined to go as can of sloppy joe sauce, but the costume wasn’t ready in time.

I had to get resourceful so that I could still go as a Man-Witch.

Family Portraits

Our daughter’s become quite the portrait artist (preferred of course to that of the similar-sounding tortured artist). She sketches our faces in crayon or marker, and then she spells out our names so that we know who’s who (as if the above could be mistaken for anyone else).

Jack-O(livia)-Lantern

Our lil’ pumpkin models the face she’d like her little pumpkin to have this Halloween.

Posting Bale

Our daughter’s affinity for hay (see also) is like a needle’s for a haystack – or something to that effect. Perhaps a fly for honey but not for vinegar? Or maybe a horse for water? How about a non-rolling stone for moss?

Well, I need to keep grinding my nose on the stone. Ta-ta.

Umbrella Policy

Olivia had to keep the rain from messing up her for-once-coiffed ‘do. She and her classmates had their picture taken at school today. Gone are the days when school picture day meant that kids would sit awkwardly on boxes positioned in front of a backdrop at least five years out of date. Memories now are captured in a photojournalistic style; our children’s candid expressions and actions forever frozen in black and white.

I’ve seen some of the proofs and am eager to post them. I’ll do so when they become available.

Qdoba as a Button

Our daughter’s eating and sleeping habits seemingly change with the wind. Her dietary inconsistencies – broccoli abhorrer one day, aficionada the next – make planning for meals a bit of a challenge, and her sleep issues have been well documented (and perpetuated, I might add). The one bedrock remains her obsessive demands for the offerings of Qdoba, a restaurant that features, in their words, “fast-casual nouveau cuisine,” which translated to plain speak means “delicious Mexican food served fast and fresh.”

Here she is relishing her cheese quesadilla and side of rice:

Ill-Fortuned

In a rerun of her preschool debut, Olivia missed orientation at her new school because she was sick. One thing for sure: The kid’s never going to garner perfect attendance honors.

Some background: We moved her out of her first preschool for the very reason – that of unrealistic expectations – that they’d probably indict us of. They must have been vexed that we’d dare question their systematic use of bribes and intimidation – how else are you to subdue a roomful of spirited preschoolers? As for us, we’d grown weary of the school’s bent for coercive education. Under their roof, the kids are expected to sit still on a piece of carpet for up to thirty minutes, eat lunch in complete silence, and find nourishment from a doughnut or cupcake; failures to meet expectations were countered with derision and the threat that the kids would not get their candy rewards or stickers (those which, by the way, were eventually redeemed for more candy or toys). As the weeks went by, the divide between the school’s and our philosophical positions on early childhood education became too great to overcome, something divorce-seeking couples identify as irreconcilable differences.

Olivia will now attend a preschool run by a nearby church. As absentees of houses of worship, we weren’t necessarily looking at faith-based schools, but from our meetings with the school’s director and its teachers, we’re sure we’ve found a much better fit for our daughter and our family, religious divergences be damned.

Rock ‘n’ Roll Play

Over at Aiden’s house, the kids rocked out some classic nursery rhymes such as “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”

Gray-Skied Parade

Actual raindrops didn’t figuratively rain on these kids’ parade: Aiden and Olivia watched the homecoming parade with great anticipation and gaiety.

Hay Yeah!

Back at the apple orchard: Olivia shook the hay like a Polaroid picture, and most of it ended up on her head.

Celestial Apple

The formidable (and rhyming) pair of Beni and Penny took the kids to an apple orchard this morning. Olivia and A.J. rode in a cool bus (I can see that the orchard’s props designer and I engage in the same rules of pun-ditry), teetered on a toddler teeter-totter, blazed through a maze, and measured up against a creepy apple and red bell pepper hybrid.

Speaking of cross-pollination, I’d asked my family to pick up a bag of Honeycrisp apples having read an interesting article about them in the Chicago Tribune. According to the article, Honeycrisps were developed from cross-pollination experiments at the University of Minnesota Agricultural Experiment Station, one of the “Big Three” in apple breeding. The reporter noted:

The Honeycrisp pictured on the poster has become the rock star of the apple world. At farmers markets, apple orchards and supermarkets across the country, people await their arrival, hoard them, enjoy them, and pack them in boxes to send to their kids at college. Why all the fuss? Because we love apples and this one is a superstar. Aptly named, although "honeyjuicycrisp" might be even more descriptive, this apple delivers a whopping dose of flavor and crispness.

Hyperbole? Perhaps. But I tried a Honeycrisp upon returning home from work and was barely able to manage its “whopping dose of flavor and crispness.” I can attest absolutely that this fruit is worthy of idolatry.

In the Isles

Olivia: "I want to wear one of your necklaces."

Mommy: "Where’s the rainbow necklace that we got for you? Why don’t you wear that one?"

Olivia: "I can’t wear mine…it’s far, far away."

Mommy: "Where is it?"

Olivia: "In England."

Vested Interest

Olivia dutifully played the role of spoiled grandchild during a shopping spree at TJ Maxx. G lavished both real and pretend (a princess dress-up set) clothes on her. Olivia proudly modeled her new pink vest while wiping off a day's worth of dirt.

All-Purpose Flower

Flowers occasionally bloom among the weeds that have almost completely enveloped the western side of the house. Olivia often seeks them out before entering the house, plucking them to put in a vase or to give to G when she comes over. On this afternoon, our lil’ florist – it’s in her blood; my grandparents owned and operated a flower shop – found a new use for the Black-Eyed Susan she’d picked.

Pin-Ball Wizard

We visited Mommy at her employer’s campus this weekend – she has a home office but is occasionally called back the university for meetings and special events – to minimize our time away from her. She’d left on Thursday and won’t be back in town until this Tuesday – far too much time for a husband and daughter to bear. While there, we partook in one of our favorite pastimes.

Olivia tried her best to point Beni in the right direction:

Construction Junction

The children’s museum has a new construction exhibit that is popular with the aficionados of Bob the Builder and Handy Manny. Olivia seemed at home at the workbench, her building skills matching – wait, who am I kidding?! – surpassing those of her remarkably unhandy old man.

The Barber of Civil Disobedience

Olivia has accompanied me on my last several trips to the barbershop. Fortunately, my barber keeps a candy stash by the cash register, its contents perfect for keeping my active child occupied for the ten or so minutes it takes for me to get a trim (all of which I’ll admit is completely hypocritical because we’re pulling Olivia from her current preschool because of, at least in part, their practice of candy bribes).

The first time she came along she sat and observed quietly from a seat by the bay window. On the last two occasions though, she’s protested the prospect of watching from afar by staging a sit-in (more like a sprawl-across) on the floor, relenting only when I scoop her up and let her sit on my lap while I’m in the barber chair.

Seize the Day’s Pay

Beni heard this gem from the road: An admissions counselor from another school was complaining that her institution’s daily allotment for meals was insufficient, that the $28 carpe diem was far too low. Perhaps, but the malapropism is priceless!

Puzzled Expression

On most mornings, I drive Olivia to preschool. Per usual, we were discussing what she’d be able to look forward to at school. I also mentioned during our drive that I’d really missed her and her mom when I was away on business, and that I was glad that we’d get to spend some quality time once again as a family. Looking in the rearview mirror, I could see that she’d given nodding approval to that notion before she averred, “We’re back together now…like a puzzle.”