Mariel's Boyfriend
Mariel and I took a quick trip to go shopping today.  On our way into the store, she told me that she has a boyfriend. 
"Who is your boyfriend?"  I asked.
"Alvin."  She said.
"Isn't Alvin your brother?" I asked, considering the complexities of this situation.
"Not anymore.  This Alvin is my boyfriend."
"Oh," I said, "What do you and your boyfriend do?"  I was actually very curious as to what she thinks about this.
"Oh, you know.  He takes me shopping, and to new countries."  She raised her hands in the air, as though this is a strange question to ask since all boyfriends go shopping and jet their girlfriends around the world on a weekly basis. 
"How did he get to be your boyfriend?"  I asked.
"He likes my clothes, Mom.  He has a lot of nice clothes, too.  And more shoes than me.  And we like the same food, especially carrots.  Alvin is always eating carrots.  And he eats macaroni and cheese, even though he doesn't like it too much.  He eats it because I like it."  I tried hard not to laugh, and will admit that I think boyfriend Alvin sounds like a pretty nice guy. 
"How do you know about boyfriends?" I wondered.
"I just know, Mom.  I learned by myself."  She said.  "And you know what?  Alvin's eight."
And since Alvin is such a fan of shopping, he decided to join us.  In fact, he had to stand his imaginary self next to Mariel for the whole trip.  Luckily he was not thirsty this afternoon, so he didn't need to share her chocolate milk.

No Rattlesnakes Allowed: The Making of a Movie
We have a problem at our house.  Its the rattlesnakes.  Up to this point, Patrick and I have been very effective at preventing all sorts of creatures from disturbing our home: we simply do not allow mean dragons, angry giants, or scary monsters.  They can't come in unless they play nice.  Apparently our powers do not apply to rattlesnakes, which Mariel is certain are a deadly threat in suburban St. Louis.  Mariel's concern with rattlesnakes comes and goes; we might manage to forget about them for a few days, and then one morning wake up to her yelling and screaming in her bed, unable to get out until we make sure there are no snakes underneath.  I have put invisible rattlesnake traps all around the house, especially under the porch, installed rattlesnake alarms, and Hudson and Marley have been fully trained in rattlesnake prevention (which, according to Mariel, primarily involves eating them).  My parents even helped research rattlesnakes on the computer and at the zoo so that she could learn about their normal habitat (ie- remote desert!) and such.  All this, to no avail.  Today, we took the next step and posted warning signs all around our house, on the playhouse, and under our beds.  Here is Noella's sign for the playhouse and Mariel's for her bed:

We also made a public service announcement, just in case those snakes can't read. 

Now there is no excuse for the snakes to miss the warning, and we hope that the entire family wakes up tomorrow to a quieter house.

How (not) to pick up chicks
At the gym Friday morning, I had an interesting encounter with one of the personal trainers.  I was riding the bike, happily listening to my ipod when we ambled over.  He's not the most... svelt... personal trainer, so he's a little hard to miss.  He is also one that I have never met or worked with, so I was a little surprised when he stopped to talk to me.  "I'm S**** (name removed to protect the guilty)" he said.  They call me "BS" for Big S****."  Well duh, I think.  "Can I give you a compliment?" he asks.  I am not sure what my options are here- can you really respond no to that?  "Um, OK." "You have great arms," he says. "I've been admiring them."  "Thank you." I respond.  "Its from carrying around my two children."  He looks a little less excited at this, but continues to talk for a bit while I nod and look longingly at my ipod.  As he winds up, he gives me a fairly creepy once over sort of look and smiles.  "Remember, my name is BS.  If you need me, you just ask for me."  "Sure," I reply, thinking that he is very full of BS and wondering why, precisely, I might need him.  He starts to walk away.  "What's my name?" he asks.   "BS," I say obligingly.    "Its good to be remembered," he grins.  "Yes," I respond.  "For whatever reason that may be."  He seems to think that this is a good anwer and smiles again.

*******

This morning we met Emily and the boys at the Botanical Gardens.  After a long morning of adventures, we split up right before heading out.  Mariel and Noella and I got on the elevator and headed down to the exit.  The doors opened, and a family with two boys waited while we got off.  The older boy, maybe about 5 or 6, stood, staring at Mariel.  She paused, not sure what to do with the attention. Looking right in her eyes he said in a loud voice: "Wow, she is really cute!" and then took his mother's hand to walk on to the elevator.   His parents and I laughed and the mother sighed.  "I guess it starts now," she said.

What to do when your kid can s-p-e-l-l?
It had to happen eventually.  I mean, our family has had smart dogs that can recall the sounds that make up basic, necessary for daily life and happiness words such a t-r-e-a-t and w-a-l-k.   So why should I be surprised that Mariel has started to figure a few things out, too?  Only kid essentials, like z-o-o and i-c-e (and really, does she need to know how to spell the second part of the word?  If we are spelling "ice" it is most likely leading to ice cream, because if we were just talking about regular old ice we would not need to spell, would we?)
This may really put a damper on adult conversations and planning.  I am not sure how Patrick and I will communicate anymore, as many of our conversations regarding the kids now involve spelling key words.  Maybe we need to learn sign language?

Out and About
Patrick captured some cute images today with my camera.  We were at Mariel's friend's birthday party.  He was turning 5 and had it a Bounce U, where they have all sorts of crazy inflatable games and things.  Personally, it was not my cup of tea... but then again, I am not a preschooler at a party.  I am sure that my 4 year old self would have loved it.  In honor of the event, Mariel even dressed herself in her "sporty" outfit.  Not a hint of pink, so it might be hard to recognize her.  All of the kids had a great time.  Noella was also pretty excited, although she needed me with her to go on the various play things.

In the tunnel

Down the slide (what we thought was the big slide...)

Noella loved all of the slides!  I just had a hard time climbing up the kid sized inflatable chutes to get there.

This is not quite as steep and long as the photography makes it look... but it was pretty high!  This was in the second room, after Mariel mastered the other slides, and invovled climbing like a spider monkey through several layers of nets to get to the top.  I did not go on this one!

Mariel and the birthday boy playing dogeball.

The birthday party assembled (or at least those who could be herded together).