Frankie the theologian

This is a conversation between Frankie and Teresa that overhear every couple weeks or so. It varies in detail, but the essence is usually the same. I always wish I had a pen and paper. This time I did. While coloring:

Teresa: "Frankie, I like the angels and the saints and..."
Frankie interrupting: "I like everyone in the world. Except the devil."
Teresa: "Everyone in the world except the devil, and exceeeept...."
Frankie: "Oh, I like him."
Teresa: "The evil king in Syria??"
Frankie: "Yeah, I like him. You're supposed the like people who are bad, right Mom?" (me: that's right...)
Frankie: "Mom, I'm going to offer my birthday to God. I give my birthday to God, and God gives my birthday that I gave to Him to other people who are poor. Get it?"
Teresa: "Can I give my birthday too?"
Frankie: "Yeah, you can. You don't have to, but you can."

There's frequently a soliloquy by Frankie about what Heaven and Hell are like, and how much she loves the angels and saints. Teresa is always listening with rapt attention, asking questions. Perhaps teaching is in Frankie's future, as she seems quite comfortable instructing the ignorant.

Pearls of wisdom

Ahh Autumn and sweater-vests.

Teresa's wisdom  confounds the wisest of sages. One morning in the car:
"Mommy? I had a dream last night."
"Really? What'd you dream about?"
"Well, I don't know. My eyes were closed. I couldn't see it."

A litte silver polish really makes these earrings pop.

Frankie, too, has some pearls floating around up there.
At dinner: "Mom? Did you know we're eating dead pig?"

One quiet afternoon: "Mom? Are there other worlds?"
..and shortly after: "I can't wait to visit Outer Space."

We know it's time for a haircut when David opens the pantry door and says, "Mommy I want some hay-cuck."

And finally, a note written one (hectic) morning by Frankie and left on the table for Dave:

"it has been a hard morning for me!"

Hope you've all been cozy-ing up during these cold days and enjoying Notre Dame football.

Reading to Junior

Summer days

We're hoping that by being near to the piano Rose will develop some sort of talent by osmosis.  The downside is that this room, needless to say, must remain locked to the general public (i.e. David) to discourage noisy delightful piano masterpieces while Rose sleeps.

 We're always late to enforce "tummy time" around here...which explains why each of our children has been bald on the back of the head probably longer than necessary.

I call this the juxtaposition of happiness (balloons) and uncertainty (Teresa). Only Teresa would wake up one morning (yesterday) and say with a scowl, "Why does it always have to be sunny? Go away sunshine." As an aside: Mom- does this remind you of a certain college performance involving balloons?

Frankie holds Rose quite often now. It's amazing how something somewhat verboten a month ago (holding Rose) has become acceptable- no doubt in large part because of F's maturity. You can tell Rose knows she's in able hands.

Tip-off

Frankie just came in the house in her swimsuit and sauntered toward the kitchen, singing softly to herself, "Hmmm hmm hm, lala, hmmm... and all I need is duck tape...."

I wish David tipped me off so beautifully to his terror plots. Ok, signing off the computer.

Time for formal catechesis?

In the car on the way to Mass:

Teresa: "Mommy, what is Jesus going to say today?"

Me: "Um, well, you mean what is the priest going to say today?" (sometimes Teresa gets Jesus and the priest confused, e.g., "Jesus is wearing green today!")

Teresa: "No, I mean what is Jesus going to say?"

Frankie: "Teresa," (chuckling at her little sister's simplicity) "Jesus isn't going to say anything. He's a statue!"

Whereupon I found myself knee-deep in the Incarnation, the Trinity, the Eucharist...and realizing I need to read a little about introducing a 4 year old to the basic tenets of the faith (Teresa interrupted my exhortation: "Mommy, I smell bubble gum.") Any recommendations on resources?

David sings Hallelujah

The YouTube video of the Hallelujah flashmob is common viewing around here ever since the girls were mesmerized by it about a year ago. David has heard and seen it, too, countless times, though it was only recently that we realized his routine funny banter was actually a rendition of Handel's tune. One year olds are pretty absorbent creatures.

Dinner table conversation

Teresa: "I've got a baby in my tummy."

Frankie (leaning toward T): "I'm gonna take your baby."

Teresa: "No! Don't take my baby, I just put it there."

Frankie (reaching under T's shirt): "I'm gonna take it!"

Teresa: "Well, I'm going to the store to get another one."

******

I stifled a smile hearing this. I couldn't help letting the exchange brighten my spirits a tad. I was still fuming from letting the tub overflow while Teresa was in it earlier, causing a waterfall from our basement bathroom ceiling. Let's see, water disaster number 36 in the Cook household? Does one need to call a professional when one knows water is in one's ceiling and walls? After the rain deluge months ago that left our basement flooded and ripped apart, I'm leaning toward letting tonight's water just dry on its own (will it?). Unless someone out there tells me otherwise.

Stuff and fluff

Of the various and sundry phobias that enter the toddler heart, wolves seem to be our present challenge. Frankie and Teresa have pretended, of late, to run from wolves hiding in our house. In the kitchen I'll hear, "A wolf! A wolf! Run!" followed by the patter of small feet back and forth through the hallway and rooms.

This morning Frankie came up to me wide-eyed. "The wolves are coming. We need to lock all the doors."

"Ok," I said, "go ahead and lock the doors." Why not.

"Mommy," she adds, "they're going to eat ALL our decorations. And... (pause)... your COFFEE."

I believe I speak for all mothers out there: these wolves need to go.

On another note, we were busy bakers yesterday. Frankie and I cranked out several batches of mini cupcakes with her new baking set. Thanks Lolo! We've got lots of leftovers-visitors welcome anytime.

Practicing

"Mommy, can you tie this on for me? And can you put David in?"

Sorry Frankie. Few more years. In the meantime, Dumbo will have to do.

Good morning glamour girl

I just wake up, throw on a fur coat, put my hair up in a few bows and clips, grab my coffee and laptop and *poof*, I'm glamorous. I bet you all wish it were that easy.

In truth, it's not easy being beautiful and almost two. Five minutes after this picture was taken Frankie demanded her fur coat back. But I can still dream.

Deep thoughts, by Frankie

Frankie was silent through her second viewing of Snow White. The first time she saw it (yesterday) I was a little anxious the evil queen would be a bit too scary for her. Would she wake up in the middle of the night with memories of the queen's side-kick attempting to stab Snow White in the forest, or of the grisly biological transformation of queen into old woman, or of Snow White falling to the ground after the fated bite from the poison apple?

Nope. She was fine.

But tonight as she watched the dwarves chase the evil old woman through a dark forest after her attempt on Snow White's life, she decided to voice her thoughts.

"Poor queen," she said.

"Poor queen??" I said. "She just tried to kill Snow White! She's really mean."

"Yeah, but the dwarves are chasing her."

And she was right. Really, it's the queen who's the most pitiable in the movie. Isn't it funny what sticks with a child? She saw straight through the scariness to something poignant and was able to express it. Or maybe I'm reading too much into this...

I think Frankie may have ESP...

... not only does she frequently know the cards I have in my hand when we're playing Go Fish ("Mommy, ask me for my three"), but today I snuck quietly into the kitchen, put a mug of milk in the microwave and quickly added a couple spoonfulls of Swiss Miss, only to hear a little voice from another room: "Can I have some hot chocolate?" (disclaimer: I hardly ever have hot chocolate) Maybe she should be a soothsayer for Halloween instead of a fairy.

The fearlessness of youth

Nothing like standing in a cold, muddy puddle of water on a brisk 60 degree day. Oh, and add *pantless and barefoot* to that.

Fall brings out the crazy in this family, apparently. And yes, I did immediately whisk them inside to warm up...immediately after I got a few good shots that is...

Wake up call

I happened upon Frankie in the refrigerator, finger-deep in a pan of jello. Jello was on the floor below the refrigerator.

Me: "Clean up the jello you dropped, please."

F: Pause... "You didn't scream?"

Me: "Um, no, I didn't scream."

F: "Wow, you're being nice."

Hmm. Maybe I need to take more naps...

How to milk it

I heard a piercing "Ow ow ow owwwwww!" that turned to sobs. Frankie had shut her finger in the front door. She rebuffed my efforts to console her. "It'll feel better in a minute," she wailed between sobs. Then, suddenly, the sobs stopped. She looked at me wide-eyed, lip quivering, "I think jellybeans would make it feel better..." Man, they learn how to milk the system early. Of course I gave her some. Hmm.

If only it were that easy...

Carrying her baby-doll to her room: "My baby's crazy. I'm gonna put her to bed."

We've got holy things on our minds today...

"Do you want to do a puzzle, Frankie?"
"No, I'm being Mary right now."

Singing softly to herself

Francesca: "Alleluia, alleluia, and you will kiss my lips when you go away, alleluia."

The dumpster has a gender. Discuss.

A couple days ago a huge dumpster was deposited in our driveway for some work being done on our house. Francesca looked outside this morning and said, "The dumpster's still here. Mom? The dumpster's a BOY." I'm sure all sorts of interesting analysis and conclusions could be drawn from that statement.