Saturday, September 05, 2020

Sleeping and shrugging

Waffelles, the cat (not the food! as Zoë explained to me when she said she had waffles for lunch (except, of course, she said, "The food! Not the cat!")) likes to find the most uncomfortable spots to sleep, which, uh, totally explains how she came to be found in a car engine. We have a bag of sweet potatoes in our house right now and she loves to curl up on those cold, hard masses. I found her in the middle of the craft table downstairs, resting on a roll of tape, a bunch of stray crayons, and a pair of scissors. And here she is snuggling with the pool toys:

She has a cat bed and has been using it more and more, to be honest, but I've never found her sleeping on, say, a comfy couch or pile of blankets or in someone's bed. She's always like, "Ahhh! This lumpy bin of shoes is the place for me!" 

Whatever, cat.

Alexander has been waking up around midnight every night to go potty, which isn't unusual for him. What is unusual is that he's then been requesting to play. Every night this week when he has gotten up, I have take him potty, then he asks if I will play with him. "I don't think so, sweet boy," I tell him. "It's time for sleeping." And I tuck him into bed. 

Last night after I tucked him into bed I heard him chatting to himself and didn't think much of it until I went downstairs to remind Andrew that eventually everyone has to go to bed, and on my way down the stairs I glanced into his room and saw that he had helped himself to a round of "Littlest Pet Shops" before passing out on his floor.

Whatever, child.

Alexander asked if we could go to the pool today and I told him that, sadly, we could not—it's the weekend and the pool would be too busy today.

"Maybe we tan doe to buh pool tomorrow!" he suggested.

"We can't go to the pool tomorrow," I said. "Tomorrow is Sunday."

We also can't go on Monday because it's Labour Day, but I didn't tell him that part yet.

"Oh," he said. "Den...maybe we tan doe to Beet-nee-bill!"

That's the name of a nearby park. Or, at least, that's how he says the name of a nearby park.

"That's a good idea," I said. "Perhaps we can do that."

"And we tan doe for a watt and pay at buh part!"

"Going for a walk and playing at the park sounds like fun."

"If no people are dere...betuh tuhrona viruh."

"That's right. We can only play at the park if no people are there...because of corona virus."

So after dinner we went to Beet-nee-bill and went for a walk and saw a frog and played at the park. The evening air had a bit of an autumn chill to it, which was nice to feel after the long, hot summer, but we're happy the days are staying warm so we can still go to the pool and hope things don't cool down too quickly. We live in Georgia, though, so we're feeling pretty confident about a long, drawn out descent into autumn.

Back at home, while I was reading to Benjamin and Zoë in the hallway, Zoë drew several wonderful pictures. Here is a turtle she made:

It was supposed to be a picture of braided hair but it didn't turn out the way she expected so she turned it into a turtle and I think it turned out very cute! And here is a cute picture of someone shrugging their shoulders:

She has been obsessed with shrugging her shoulders lately. She first read it in a book (I think one of the Magic Treehouse books) and when she asked me what "shrugged" meant, I simply said, "It means doing this," while shrugging my shoulders.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, happily accepting my answer. 

She spent several happy days shrugging her shoulders and then explaining to everyone that she was just shrugging. 

After a few days of this she said, "Mom, I know shrugging means going like this *shrug,* but what does this *shrug* mean?"

I didn't realize that she hadn't know what that gesture meant! So I explained that it could mean a few things. Usually it means, "I don't know." Sometimes it means, "I don't care," or "It's all the same to me," or "It doesn't matter."

She still talks about shrugging her shoulders all the time. When someone asks her something sometimes she'll smile coyly and shrug at them and then explain that she's shrugging because she isn't sure of the answer or because she has no preference or whatever her shrug means at any given moment. 

And whenever we read about shrugging in a book she will make us stop reading so she can say, "I know that! Watch me!" and then she'll demonstrate her best little shrug.