Splashes, Splashes

Five and a half years ago, Joy had a five-word-phrase in her repertoire for a brief span.  It was a line from Ring Around the Rosy:  "Ashes, ashes, all fall down!"

I went back to the archive of team-messages that I've been using for group communication for years, and there it was in the seventh message (we're up to #1551 by now):

I had to work very hard not to laugh the other day when she flung her cup, and then sang out her version of "Ashes, ashes, all fall down!"

I'd forgotten that incident, but remembered hearing the phrase on at least two additional occasions.  And then... Elvis left the building, the sliders on Joy's mixer board slid into a new position, and the phrase disappeared.

Fast forward to this weekend.

Joy came home from school on Friday with a new piece of artwork, this one containing both swirls and dots.   This one had been created to the tune of Ring Around the Rosy, a tune that Joy had suddenly begun to request that day.  We also learned that she'd been excited to work with LeapFrog phonics toys at school, which she'd connected with at home in a big way right around the end of 2011.  And the Brown Bear theme had continued at school as well, evidenced in a copy of Baby Bear, Baby Bear coming home with her for the weekend.

It rained most of the weekend.  Ordinarily this would be a bummer, but we've had a long string of parched weeks, so the rain was actually very welcome.  And guess who got to go out and make splashes and splashes, stomping in the puddles among the fallen leaves?

We played Ring Around the Rosy in the puddles, and Mama substituted a new line for the "ashes" line (that probably isn't a reference to the Black Death, though it's an oft-told myth):  Splashes, splashes, all fall down! Joy responded with many splashes and stomps and giggles, and helpfully refraining from actually falling down.

Then something seemed to catch her attention.  She looked, leaned to the side, took another looong look.

"Joy, what do you see?" asked Mama.

The response grew out of Brown Bear and our stomping-splashes, and just about took my breath away.

I see bird -- stomp, stomp, stomp!

Six words, gentle readers.  Six in a row, one more even than our long-lost Ring Around the Rosy line, in an original combination.

She was working other spoken-combos this weekend, too.  She says them slowly, with great emphasis, almost with a period after each word.

I. Want. iPad!

I. Want. Help!  

I. Want. Cracker!  

I. Want. Bread!  (This last was a request for the infamous zucchini bread)

I haven't heard a spoken request for a hug yet.  But you'd better believe she was receiving, this weekend.

And as for me, I am so greedy.

I. want. more.

But there were moments to be lived in, this weekend, and each one was a miracle unto itself.

Summer Activities (and, Budgets are Moral Documents)

Now that school's out, I'm getting to spend a lot more time with my girls!

Yesterday started with a taunt left on our deck railing, from one of the squirrels who've been raiding our strawberry patch:

Our top two morning activities were puddle-stomping and Capitol-visiting.

It was a sunny day, making for some excellent reflections.

Then after we got cleaned up from that little escapade, we headed down to the Capitol, where the Senatorial rubber-stamp was about to be put on the devastating Wisconsin budget, all-cuts-all-the-time (major tax cuts for corporations, major cuts to schools and health care and middle-and-lower-income families, zero shared-sacrifice for those at the top of the heap.)

The Capitol was fairly quiet at mid-morning, other than a signficantly beefed-up police presence. We got one kindly officer to take our picture beside Wisconsin's replica of the Liberty Bell. Here's the plaque that sits next to it:

The top line reads, "Dedicated to you, a free citizen in a free land." Oh, the irony, after having had to go through a security gauntlet to get into the Capitol, designed solely to squelch protest (they'll be removing the metal detectors soon, within days of the budget taking effect.)

We felt the "freedom" gut-punch once more as we attempted to visit our Senator's office. We walked past Senator Risser's office door by accident a couple of times, because the 3-officer law-enforcement presence obscured our view of the names on the door. (Risser's office shares a front door with Senator Leah Vukmir, from across the aisle). When we finally figured out that this was where we wanted to be, and asked the lawmen if we could please enter, they asked us if we had an appointment. Well, no, we didn't -- we're used to dropping in unannounced for visits with the staff, that's how things operate in Senator Risser's office! No ma'am, we're not supposed to let you in without an appointment.

I'm glad I'm a known quantity in my state senator's office, for I was able to send in my card with one of the officers, and then the doors swung wide. After our visit, one of the Risser staffers came out to speak to Senator Vukmir's palace guard the lawmen, and let them know that Senator Risser's office wants to speak with any constituent who shows up, appointment or no!

Next we took the elevator up, to wander around the observation deck at the base of the dome, and look out over the city and lakes from all angles.

And then we went down to the Square again, and left some messages for anyone who wanted to read them, until the next rain washes them away.

Budgets are moral documents. And the budget that passed in Wisconsin last night badly, badly fails that standard.

(Funny how sidewalk chalk is cute when it's a hopscotch frame or child's artwork, and VANDALISM! if it's got certain political content.)

Joy's All-Natural, Super-Power, No-Fail Laxative

OK, since we've been talking toilet-training...

I don't think I've blogged about it, but one issue that we've had on and off with Joy has been a problem with constipation. You wouldn't expect it with her, because she eats a lot of fruits and vegetables, but there it was. We had her on a low dose of Miralax for something like a year, which helped. And then at some point earlier this year, the situation had gone TOO far in the opposite direction, and Joy was objecting strenuously to the ensuing messy clean-ups, and so we stopped the Miralax.

Things have gradually crept toward constipation again, skipping days and such, if you know what I mean.

But since spring brought warmer weather, we have discovered the absolute fool-proof, totally natural, works-every-time way to induce the desired effect.

Go out and play in the water.

I'm serious. Every single time Joy goes out to splash in puddles in the street, or cavort in the inflatable pool, or run through the sprinkler, or even (as this morning) dance in the rain on the deck -- shstuff happens.

With the backyard play, I've gotten so that I just take the diaper bag out with me and change her right there in the (nice private fenced) yard. Because of course the water play is so much fun, Joy totally hates to have it interrupted to go inside and change.

It's almost too bad that this super constipation-problem-solver is so extremely natural. Something that works this well could make millions if it were an ingestible substance or a purchase-able device...

As it is, we'll just continue to use it strategically and count our blessings.

Reflected

Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
The whole moon and the entire sky
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass.

-- Dogen (Japanese Zen Master)