Quick Hits

Happy Mother's Day.  Now, an Ada update:

Ada was playing with Mardi Gras beads this evening and singing everything that she was doing.  I explained that it was like she was in a musical on Broadway.  I then sang to her: "Do you think we should write a musical about Mardi Gras?"  Her immediate response, perfectly sung, was: "No, that's a bad idea."  She's probably right.

We went to the driving range again today.  Ada has a little 7 iron, and she is getting a lot better with hitting the ball.  She always wants to go lefthand low, even on full shots, and she often forgets to keep her left arm straight.  But I remind her, and she does a pretty good job of doing the right thing.

On this Mother's Day, it's important to congratulate Kat on how well she has trained Ada in various things.  Ada used to get up way too early and bother us, so Kat installed the "Family Morning Time Light," which is a timed light that comes on at 7 a.m. every morning.  Ada is not allowed to leave her room to bother us until that light comes on.  Many mornings I will hear Ada come out of her room at about 6:30 a.m., go straight to the bathroom, and then return to her room.  She then emerges when the light comes on.  I wish she was so easily trained with toothbrushing and protecting her food from dogs, but this is a great example of how well Kat relates to tiny humans.  I appreciate the opportunity to sleep in that the FMTL provides, and all of the credit goes to Kat.

I tried to explain deja vu to Ada today with no success.  While we were at the driving range, she told me she had a "weird feeling."  I tried to explain what might cause weird feelings, but I didn't really get anywhere.  My plan all along has been to talk to Ada like she is an adult and expect that she will pick things up.  But sometimes my inability to explain things becomes clearly evident.  Today, when we were listening to U2's Raised By Wolves -- one of Ada's favorite songs -- the lyric was "Boy sees his father crushed under the weight...."  Ada asked what it meant to be crushed, and I said it was like being smushed flat.  She then asked what it meant to be crushed under the weight, and I said it was to be smushed by something heavy.  She thought this was no good, and then I said, "Well, in this instance, it is metaphorical.  No one was literally crushed."  She then asked what metaphorical meant, and I absolutely could not explain in a manner understandable to a 3 year old how the pressures of life can bear down on someone and, while not literally crushing him or her, it can impact them deeply.  Ada didn't seem to care though as she just returned to singing the chorus.  She has learned something from that song though because whenever she hears it, she says "raised by wolves means you are wild."

The fact that Ada listens to these songs in the car results in some pretty funny exchanges sometimes. A week or so ago we were at a park and met another girl who was about Ada's age.  This girl was singing "The Wheels On the Bus."  She asked Ada if she knew that song, and Ada said "Yes. I know that song, but I know other songs, too, like Shake It Off and All About That Bass."  As a parent, I don't know whether that was something to be proud of or ashamed of, but it was hilarious.  And Ada was deathly serious about it too.  In her mind, pop hits and preschool standards are one and the same.

Ada went all the way across on the monkey bars by herself recently.  I was there to catch her if she fell, but she did it on her own.  However, when we went back to the park, she was afraid to do it again.  I reminded her that she had done it, but development is not a perfectly straight line.

This shouldn't be only good things about Ada because I am fair and balanced.  She needs to say please and thank you more without being prompted.  I'm going to be even more vigilant about ensuring that happens.  It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.  I'm going to get her to memorize that.  And I'm going to teach her what metaphors are.  And a thousand other things I'll tell her that she will ignore.  But I enjoy the process, and, to at least some degree, I think she does too.