Small fry

For a while, it was pretty easy to talk over the children's heads. They were oblivious to all but the most obvious key words, and when all else failed, we'd spell crucial tidbits of classified info. Then Jane learned to spell, and we had to rely on more elaborate forms of code. This worked for a time, but Jane quickly adapted and began cracking our evolving code-speak. 'Big one,' 'Middlest,' '1.0,' etc. were all laid bare to her quick mind. Sometimes we'd even catch her calling Ella 'Middle One.'

Recently Michael took to calling them Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, which is pretty effective at obscuring intent, if a little outdated. Now he proposes Eeny, Meeny, and Miny, which doesn't seem quite as charming, but it gets the job done.

Now that we've started showing the girls a few (older) Disney movies, we are on the receiving end of an everlasting flood of impenetrable questions. I am reminded of the quote from Drink To Yesterday:

They call her Diana the Wise.

Why?

Because she asks such an awful lot of them.

Why-? Oh, I see.

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Michael is one of the brothers in our church's production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, a fun musical which I'd never seen but the lyrics of which are quite clever. ('Being told we're also-rans Does not make us Joseph's fans.') Opening night is two weeks from yesterday, and we're in the final grueling stretch of rehearsals, which means lots of very long days. In a month or so, we hope life will return to normal.

Very quickly, now

Blogger has been most annoying lately. (Or maybe it's been going on for a long time, and I just haven't posted much lately...) It seems all I have time for these days is the occasional picture post with quick captions, but I give that up all too easily whenever Blogger has conniptions. Hence few posts. It is a pity, because as Lord Goring observed, I am quite full up of information and feel like the latest edition of something-or-other, only there is no one in the house to talk to. Except, as it happens, that is hardly the case, as Jane and Ella provide ample conversation these days. Alas that baby books run out of room after about the first year.

Jane: Why does my car seat have arm rests?
Me: To rest your arms.
Jane: Or maybe to rest your elbow, when you're untangling a tangle.

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Ella: Please hold me! Jane is being Ursula!
Me: Ursula is just pretend, and Jane is not mean.
Ella (to Jane): Ursula, you are not mean.

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So we went to a tax day tea party at the state Capitol last Thursday. It was important to go, and the train ride downtown was an adventure for the girls. In truth, I've fallen under a deep cloud for the last month re: healthcare, and it's hard for me to see how any good can come of the breakdown of our economy and the dissolution of our country. Of course I always knew that America wouldn't be around for the end times, since it doesn't merit a mention in Revelation, but I never expected to be there to see it. Have I mentioned that I've been feeling rather bleak lately? Not at all related to turning thirty next week, which doesn't depress me in the least, because I'm mathematically savvy enough to realise that I entered my thirtieth year last birthday.