Developmental Biology on the homefront

We've had some toad excitement around here lately. About a week and a half ago the kids and I found a bunch of tadpoles in this recurring massive rainpuddle we have nearby. It must have been my reward for finally getting out of the house before noon and heading the kids toward the park. So exciting. Anyway, first we realized that their puddle was quickly drying out, so we scratched the park idea and made a bucket brigade bringing them water from our house. Then, we had buckets, so the kids had to scoop tadpoles into them. Sidenote: Alli was really happily playing in the mud with her shovel til I happened to point out to her that she was getting all muddy on her hands and feet and forehead (which I didn't mind). I thought she would be delighted--she was horrified and upset until we went and got more clean water for her and got her hands pristine again. Funny. So, anyway, we brought a bucketful of mud, water, and 'poles home. I think it was to show Mark later; that is the reason for a lot of things we do. I didn't feel a big rush to dump the tadpoles back out, because hey, they were living in a stagnant puddle anyway. And a few days later there was no puddle to speak of. Whenever we'd go somewhere we give the bucket a little turn and our tadpoles were still alive and kicking; plus, some teeeeeny dragonfly nymphs and some spidery younguns were swimming around in there too. Then they got legs!!!! I know, this is very predictable, of course they got legs; but I NEVER can keep things alive (I guess I should just stick to things I can find in stagnant places). Yesterday we poured them out in a shallow frisbee and:

THREE OF THEM HOPPED OUT!!!!!

They were so small, no bigger than a tadpole, just leggy. The rest of them died from the stress of multiple dumps into the Frisbee. My four-year old assistant got a little overzealous--but hey, we kept three alive and we feel pretty great about that. The end.

The apple frenzy continues . . . caramel this time.

I was just going to write about the gloriousness of caramel apples and state my plans to teach four preschoolers how to make them tomorrow. Then I realized that this is just my recent fall apple obsession being extended. They may not look as good as these tomorrow, but I plan to work out the kinks with the kids and make two somewhat like these for Mark and me later. We had a good friend give these to us a few Christmases ago, in lieu of the traditional plate of goodies, and wowie were they zowie! As for tonight, I'm just making myself sick eating too many caramels while I wait for Mark to get home . . . a pretty happy misery.

Oh, and yes, the theme I chose to teach the kids about tomorrow is: apples. Geez, Emily! Johnny Appleseed, wiggling like worms, apple prints with paint, and the aforementioned delights.

Allianna's hierarchy or, a few of our favorite things.

I'm asking Alli all day things like "don't do that" "leave that there" "can I have that please?" when she has something she shouldn't have or is doing something wrong with it. The usual response is a smile, squeal, and a good chance she'll run away squealing and smiling; or an indifferent and sassy "No. no, mom." As in, hmm, that's an interesting idea you have Mom, but I don't agree. Or other times she acts like she doesn't hear me saying anything. So, that is how much respect I get.

However, and this is a massive however, if I mention that what she's playing with is Daddy's, she gets all reverential and agreeable. "Ooh. Daddy's? Daddy's [with awe]." And then she points to it or hands it to me and tells me "Daddy's"--all while nodding her head very authoritatively and soberly ("We definitely can't let bad things happen to something so special, Mom."). It doesn't matter if it's even just a piece of paper. We may have a moment of silence before she utters another respectful "Daddy's." Then she's on her way. There's nothing we agree about more than how dear Dad-O is. ;)

Oh, we also agree that it's fun to window shop pretty things. We were on our own at Target the other day (while the boys were at the natural science museum) and I asked her if she wanted to look for pretty little girl bracelets. "Yeeeah." (in the deep drawn out raspy way she says it). So we wandered the aisles looking for them while she called all the while "Preh-dy! . . . . Wheh ah yooou??? Pretty? wehahYOU?!?!"

This is for Melanie

and for anyone else who knew me in high school or my freshman year. This is what you'd expect for my daughter to wear: thrift store blue shirt and brown pants. Blue and brown, so many options . . . maybe I'll get a better picture later (sorry about the quick webcam one).

UPDATE

The apples are still intoxicating. I nearly fell into the big bin of them at Fiesta and stayed there...