Early

My kids usually get me up somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:30, which always feels way too early. This morning they let me sleep in until just about 7, at which point the garbage truck rumbled past, reminding me it was Friday morning. Slacker that I am, I hadn't put the trash out. Of course, slacker me has been aided lately by the fact that the garbage truck hasn't come until the afternoon for the last several weeks. Recycling? Sure, that occasionally comes nice and early. Trash? Always late.

I wasn't the only one caught off guard. In fact, when I ran outside I saw that all of two houses on the entire block had bins out, which went a long way to explaining why the truck was already past my house by the time I got out. Again, usually I hear it at the beginning of the block and can get things out by the time it reaches our house.

Like several neighbors I dragged my bin across the street (which hadn't been collected yet) and then waited for the truck to come again. About fifteen minutes later it arrived, dumped my bin, and continued on. Since I was outside with my ever excitable children I immediately picked up my bin. My bin which was still completely full. My lovely husband had filled the trash styrofoam, which I'm guessing was just static-y enough to prevent it and everything below it from actually falling out of the trash bin. Damn physics.

Kitchen help

Remember how I said in my last post that Sylvia's gotten interested in helping me cook lately? Well, Paul is also interested in helping in the kitchen. He's especially interested in the oven.

So last night I pulled out the last of the plums and made what's almost certainly the last plum cake of the season. It's supposed to be cooked at about 325, maybe 350 degrees. Paul turned the oven up to 400. I smelled it early enough only the edges were singed and we ate it even if it wasn't the best.

Tonight we had Brussels sprouts, which I usually cook at about, oh, 375 to 400 degrees. Paul turned the oven all the way up, so they cooked at something around 500 degrees. Again, I smelled them before they burst into flames, but they were kinda black on one side. Not what I was hoping for dinner, and now my whole house smells like burned cabbage. Yum, yum.

Routine

We're finally falling into what more or less could be termed a routine around here. One that obviously doesn't include much time for blogging, but hey, you can't have everything.

Sylvia's still liking her school, though she also still complains about getting ready in the morning. I hope she grows out of that, but I'm not holding my breath.

Paul, on the other hand, loves getting ready in the morning, especially on school days. He loves going to the bus stop. Loves. He's familiar enough with the sequence of events that have to happen before going to the bus stop that he spontaneously gets his shoes on in the morning. Pants...well, he still considers them optional.

Derrick has his bike and he bikes in to work probably as often as he rides the bus, which I like. The buses around here are nice, but a little unpredictable, so Derrick's commute can be anywhere from 30 minutes to more than an hour. Biking is pretty much 25 minutes.

In less than happy news, Sylvia's Skuut, which she loved, died a little more than a week ago. One of the bearings on the rear wheel fell apart and now the wheel is so wobbly it's not really safe to ride anymore. I've been trying to find replacement parts, but haven't had much luck so far. Supposedly you can buy a new wheel (including two bearings) for about $30. Supposedly you can also buy a new bearing of the right size, also for about $30. Guess which option I'd prefer.

I'm getting writing done on my novel. Feeling vaguely less guilty most days for quitting my PhD and focusing on fiction. Some days I'm still pretty frustrated and angry about the situation, but those days are getting fewer and turning into afternoons of frustration instead of days on end of frustration.

On a happier note, Sylvia's taken a definite interest in cooking lately. This week we made lemon bars after she badgered me to make a lemon pie for days. She's even been eating them, which I didn't expect. Last time I made them I seem to remember the flavor was too strong for her to enjoy (though I admit that may be a self-serving memory). We also made pizza last night (yeah! Friday pizza night!) and the kids helped me put together the dough. Cooking with kids is certainly an exercise in shushing the inner perfectionist. Good times.

Evidence

Proof second kids learn things faster:

Exhibit A--When we tell him no or ask him to do things, Paul already asks, "why?"

Exhibit B--He gave his dad his first eye roll this afternoon.

Words, words, words

I've been meaning to make a list of all of Paul's words but I haven't yet and today I realized it's in a way too late--he's moved on to phrases.

We take Sylvia to school on the bus. Paul's been saying bus very distinctly for a while. He's also had a little phrase he says before bus a lot of the time. Today I finally understood he was asking me if that was our bus. When I told him no, he said some different phrase before bus that I'm pretty sure was him repeating the idea that the bus wasn't our bus.

Gads, I'm slow.

I don't know a lot about human development, but it's been clear for a while Paul has more than just words in his vocabulary, that there's a structure to what he's saying. Much of what he says sounds like gibberish to me, but it's consistent gibberish so it's obviously language. I don't know enough about language acquisition to know if he's making up the syntax or if he's trying to copy us more advanced speakers, but it's obvious he knows instinctively there's a structure to talking and he's imitating or creating it himself.

I know I loved watching Sylvia go through this language acquisition phase. It's just as much fun to watch the second time around.

Stung

Sylvia was stung by a bee today. The experience was certainly not one she'll want to experience again any time soon, but the thing that struck me most was that she was at least as distressed by the news that the bee would die after stinging her as she was distressed by the pain. She's my little softie.

It's been a pretty good week. Sylvia went to school quite happily on Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday (which is typically my most ornery day) was pleasant all the way around. After a delicious and nutritious dinner we even went to the park as a family, where Paul herded ducks and Sylvia wanted to swim with them.

Thursday was similarly low-key, and today (other than the bee sting) has been mellow. I let Sylvia watch pretty much as much My Little Pony as she wanted, which is closing in on four hours, I think. She's outside now playing in water with her brother, taking a break from TV since it was "making her dizzy."

Let this be a lesson, mom: don't let big sister walk around with big sticks

Yeah, any time TV makes you dizzy, it's probably time to take a break.

At dusk I saw

I finally downloaded pictures off my camera. Looking through them I realized it's been more than a month since I'd downloaded pictures, which means I haven't shared any of our pictures from our last days in the states or any of our pictures from our first month here in Australia. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware of this, of course, but it's really truly obvious when I go through the pictures exactly how much I've neglected to share with anyone else.

Oops.

So, I'll post some pictures here, probably some on Facebook as well. Let y'all see how much fun we had in our final days before leaving and what our life's like down under.

I know we've only been gone a month, and we're so busy here I don't really have the time or emotional space to get sad about leaving. Still, there were some definite twinges of nostalgia looking over the pictures we've taken. Anyway, here are a few for your enjoyment. I'll post more...eventually.

Checking out the dinosaurs at the LA Museum of natural history

That's the plane we rode to Australia

What's summer without watermelon?

Taking the bus to Sylvia's Kindy

They have fish!

My sweet girl! (pre-black eye)