Showing posts with label Vinny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vinny. Show all posts
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Vinny Saves the Day!
I come into work early Wednesday morning, wake up Vinny first and then Giuliana. While I'm helping Giuwels pick out her clothes for the day, I hear Vinny calling me, "Carolyn! Come here!! I want to show you something!!!" So off I go across the hallway, to see Vinny's latest favorite treasure. He hands me the silver-colored Nordstrom box that his mom recently gave him to play with, and says, with anticipation, "Open it!" By now Giuwels is standing in the room beaming because she is in on the secret. I open it and see the circular tin container for his Mickey Mouse pocket watch. "Open that too!" Vinny commands, and so I pull off the lid, and there, to my extreme astonishment and shock, lying in the small circle of black felt, is my wedding ring. I look at the ring finger on my left hand and notice that it's empty. For the briefest, most stunned moment, I feel like Vinny is proposing to me, and then I remember that I took the ring off yesterday when I was putting on Giuliana's tights for ballet. I didn't want my ring to tear the tights, and then we were in such a hurry to get out the door that I left my ring sitting on Giuliana's dresser! "Vinny! Thank you! You saved my life! Oh my gosh! Thank you! I can never thank you enough!" Vinny and Giuwels are both talking at the same time, trying to tell me how they came about saving my ring. They are both thrilled by how close the ring came to being lost--Giuwels found it in the midst of a crazy stuffed animal-throwing fight between the two of them and said, "Look what I found, Vinny!" When Vinny saw it, he knew right away that it was mine. He then informs me that he tried it on all his fingers while they watched American Idol that night, and then he decided to put it somewhere safe. And that is the story of how I lost my most expensive possession and how Vinny saved the day!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
HFCS:
Cheryl is on a campaign against High Fructose Corn Syrup.
The kids know they're not supposed to eat anything with this forbidden substance.
Michael and Vinny eat eggs for breakfast on Friday mornings--extra protein to help them on their tests in school.
Vinny does not like eggs.
So he tells me, "Carolyn! I can't eat these eggs! They give me high fructose corn syrup!!!"
The kids know they're not supposed to eat anything with this forbidden substance.
Michael and Vinny eat eggs for breakfast on Friday mornings--extra protein to help them on their tests in school.
Vinny does not like eggs.
So he tells me, "Carolyn! I can't eat these eggs! They give me high fructose corn syrup!!!"
Friday, May 13, 2011
A collection of ordinary moments:
Birth
Giuwels asked me on the way to preschool this morning how dogs have puppies. I said, "They keep the baby in their tummy until it's old enough to be born, just like people do." Apparently, this wasn't what was troubling her because she then asked, "But how do the puppies get out? Does the Mommy throw them up?"
Betsy "Rose"
Vinny's flag is almost done. We just need to put a few more stitches in it tomorrow morning, and then he can take it to school with him. In second grade he has to do three enormous "interdisciplinary" projects--all of which involve researching/reading, creating something, writing, and speaking/speech. This last project is in celebration of Memorial and Flag Day and he has to create an American flag out of whatever material he chooses. When he got the assignment, I checked out a bunch of books on American flags from the library, to get some inspiration. I'm not sure how helpful they proved to be, but--aside from the fact that pictures of the American flag flying at Ground Zero prompted me to blurt out the history of 9/11 (which Cheryl then informed me Vinny had never heard about, and in retrospect, he was probably too young to hear about [WHOOPS]), or that a random (read: disturbing) picture of John Wilkes Booth assassinating Lincoln proved a difficult explanation as well (what does that have to do with the flag anyway?), we came across countless retellings of the story of Betsy Ross--which Vinny pronounced (very endearingly, I might add) Betsy Rose. The image of our noble forebear must have imprinted on Vinny's mind because when I asked him how he wanted to make his flag, he said: sew it. So we had a massive expedition to the Joanne's in Torrance, and since then our lives have been an endless repetition of: cutting felt, threading needles, and using yarn to piece together our homemade American flag. It's actually quite exhilarating, making something with your own hands. Vinny keeps telling me how much fun it is, and he really has done his fair share of the work. I've been so proud of him, doing little blanket stitches all around the edges of the flag. Plus it's been very cozy in the evenings, sitting around sewing together. It really takes me back to Little House on the Prairie and makes me feel like I'm snug in a cabin in the woods with Ma and Pa.
The Jersey Boys & Peter Pan
Having Michael around is great. He does tons of magic tricks (which are actually really good, although I don't work too hard trying to figure them out because I really don't want the "magic" of it to wear off for me. It's much easier to be enthusiastic and interested when you really DON'T know how he's doing it). He plays fun (if not good) music. He makes me laugh by googling things like "Funny Pictures" or different Disney characters and then showing us the pictures. He googled Peter Pan for me tonight and one of the images that popped up was a couple dressed as Peter and Tink--who were obviously a little socially awkward. "Peter" has what can best be described as a Monstrous Bowl Cut, and as Giuwels remarked so candidly, "Tinker Bell is supposed to have blond hair!"
Michael and I share an undying passion for Jersey Boys, and even though neither of us has actually seen the musical, we know the sound track by heart and take every opportunity we can to recite it/sing along with it. So our evenings go like this: Carolyn and Vinny sitting at the kitchen table playing Rummikube. Michael sitting at the kitchen table listening to Jersey Boys and singing along very LOUDly. "BEGGING, BEGGING YOUUUUU, PUT YOUR LOVIN' HAND OUT BABY...." After listening to "Walk Like a Man" for probably the 7th time, I confessed that this song always made me wish I was, in fact, a man. Why, Michael asks. Isn't it obvious? So that I could walk like a man!!! (And so that I could have my father tell me, "No woman's worth crawling on the earth..." Having been born a girl, that dream will never come true.) There is something truly mysterious and elusive about walking like a man. It must feel good, that's all I can conclude.
Lying about Lettuce:
Giuwels lied to me tonight. I told her she had to eat five more pieces (and they were small pieces, covered in Ranch) of lettuce before she could have dessert. She then switched all the pieces of lettuce to another bowl, and brought the empty bowl to me saying, "I ate all my lettuce, now can I have dessert?" Not surprisingly, I discovered the displaced lettuce, confronted my little sinner, and told her now she had lost dessert and she still had to eat the lettuce. She fell apart. I sent her to her bed, and thought about whether my decision to make her eat the rest of the lettuce was the right one. I decided it smacked of some kind of cruelty or harshness to me. I'm a softie. Also, my childhood years are not so far away that I've forgotten what it feels like to be made to eat something you loathe. Into the midst of my thoughts drifts her voice, calling plaintively from downstairs, "I'm sorry for lying!!!!!" I called her back upstairs and told her she did not have to eat the lettuce, because if she really hates it then she doesn't have to eat it. But I also told her that because she lied and because she needs to learn how dangerous lying is, she will not be getting dessert tomorrow either. It felt good. It felt good to assign a fitting punishment out of a concern for her well-being without being mean or disciplining her out of anger. It also feels good to not be the kind of person who can't change her mind.
Giuwels asked me on the way to preschool this morning how dogs have puppies. I said, "They keep the baby in their tummy until it's old enough to be born, just like people do." Apparently, this wasn't what was troubling her because she then asked, "But how do the puppies get out? Does the Mommy throw them up?"
Betsy "Rose"
Vinny's flag is almost done. We just need to put a few more stitches in it tomorrow morning, and then he can take it to school with him. In second grade he has to do three enormous "interdisciplinary" projects--all of which involve researching/reading, creating something, writing, and speaking/speech. This last project is in celebration of Memorial and Flag Day and he has to create an American flag out of whatever material he chooses. When he got the assignment, I checked out a bunch of books on American flags from the library, to get some inspiration. I'm not sure how helpful they proved to be, but--aside from the fact that pictures of the American flag flying at Ground Zero prompted me to blurt out the history of 9/11 (which Cheryl then informed me Vinny had never heard about, and in retrospect, he was probably too young to hear about [WHOOPS]), or that a random (read: disturbing) picture of John Wilkes Booth assassinating Lincoln proved a difficult explanation as well (what does that have to do with the flag anyway?), we came across countless retellings of the story of Betsy Ross--which Vinny pronounced (very endearingly, I might add) Betsy Rose. The image of our noble forebear must have imprinted on Vinny's mind because when I asked him how he wanted to make his flag, he said: sew it. So we had a massive expedition to the Joanne's in Torrance, and since then our lives have been an endless repetition of: cutting felt, threading needles, and using yarn to piece together our homemade American flag. It's actually quite exhilarating, making something with your own hands. Vinny keeps telling me how much fun it is, and he really has done his fair share of the work. I've been so proud of him, doing little blanket stitches all around the edges of the flag. Plus it's been very cozy in the evenings, sitting around sewing together. It really takes me back to Little House on the Prairie and makes me feel like I'm snug in a cabin in the woods with Ma and Pa.
The Jersey Boys & Peter Pan
Having Michael around is great. He does tons of magic tricks (which are actually really good, although I don't work too hard trying to figure them out because I really don't want the "magic" of it to wear off for me. It's much easier to be enthusiastic and interested when you really DON'T know how he's doing it). He plays fun (if not good) music. He makes me laugh by googling things like "Funny Pictures" or different Disney characters and then showing us the pictures. He googled Peter Pan for me tonight and one of the images that popped up was a couple dressed as Peter and Tink--who were obviously a little socially awkward. "Peter" has what can best be described as a Monstrous Bowl Cut, and as Giuwels remarked so candidly, "Tinker Bell is supposed to have blond hair!"
Michael and I share an undying passion for Jersey Boys, and even though neither of us has actually seen the musical, we know the sound track by heart and take every opportunity we can to recite it/sing along with it. So our evenings go like this: Carolyn and Vinny sitting at the kitchen table playing Rummikube. Michael sitting at the kitchen table listening to Jersey Boys and singing along very LOUDly. "BEGGING, BEGGING YOUUUUU, PUT YOUR LOVIN' HAND OUT BABY...." After listening to "Walk Like a Man" for probably the 7th time, I confessed that this song always made me wish I was, in fact, a man. Why, Michael asks. Isn't it obvious? So that I could walk like a man!!! (And so that I could have my father tell me, "No woman's worth crawling on the earth..." Having been born a girl, that dream will never come true.) There is something truly mysterious and elusive about walking like a man. It must feel good, that's all I can conclude.
Lying about Lettuce:
Giuwels lied to me tonight. I told her she had to eat five more pieces (and they were small pieces, covered in Ranch) of lettuce before she could have dessert. She then switched all the pieces of lettuce to another bowl, and brought the empty bowl to me saying, "I ate all my lettuce, now can I have dessert?" Not surprisingly, I discovered the displaced lettuce, confronted my little sinner, and told her now she had lost dessert and she still had to eat the lettuce. She fell apart. I sent her to her bed, and thought about whether my decision to make her eat the rest of the lettuce was the right one. I decided it smacked of some kind of cruelty or harshness to me. I'm a softie. Also, my childhood years are not so far away that I've forgotten what it feels like to be made to eat something you loathe. Into the midst of my thoughts drifts her voice, calling plaintively from downstairs, "I'm sorry for lying!!!!!" I called her back upstairs and told her she did not have to eat the lettuce, because if she really hates it then she doesn't have to eat it. But I also told her that because she lied and because she needs to learn how dangerous lying is, she will not be getting dessert tomorrow either. It felt good. It felt good to assign a fitting punishment out of a concern for her well-being without being mean or disciplining her out of anger. It also feels good to not be the kind of person who can't change her mind.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
He Likes Me!
Cheryl told me that while I was out of town getting my wisdom removed, she was encouraging the kids for being so self-sufficient one morning and jokingly said, "Wow, we could almost do without Carolyn!" To which Vinny responded, "No! I like Carolyn! I want her to keep coming!"
I will now proceed to live off this compliment for days, weeks, even months.
Innately, I sense that the kids do like me, are even genuinely attached to me, but they are not very expressive or even openly affectionate (being damaged by the abrupt departure of previous nannies is probably the cause of this), and so affirmation like this is in rare supply. (Although Cayla also reminded me that kids don't spend everyday telling their parents how much they love them either. I suppose kids take for granted certain "fixtures" in their lives.)
In conclusion, one of the reasons that Vinny likes me is probably because when he asks if he can throw the hard-boiled eggs that we dyed for Easter (and that have since then proceeded to go bad) off the balcony and into the yard/street, I say "Yes, as long as you pick up all the pieces afterward," and then join him on the balcony to watch the rainbow-colored eggs sail through the sky and splatter on the ground. Later I help him pick up the sticky pieces of yolk and the colorful bits of eggshell littered around the yard and street, and we have much more fun than we ever could have had monotonously eating all those hard-boiled eggs day after day.
I will now proceed to live off this compliment for days, weeks, even months.
Innately, I sense that the kids do like me, are even genuinely attached to me, but they are not very expressive or even openly affectionate (being damaged by the abrupt departure of previous nannies is probably the cause of this), and so affirmation like this is in rare supply. (Although Cayla also reminded me that kids don't spend everyday telling their parents how much they love them either. I suppose kids take for granted certain "fixtures" in their lives.)
In conclusion, one of the reasons that Vinny likes me is probably because when he asks if he can throw the hard-boiled eggs that we dyed for Easter (and that have since then proceeded to go bad) off the balcony and into the yard/street, I say "Yes, as long as you pick up all the pieces afterward," and then join him on the balcony to watch the rainbow-colored eggs sail through the sky and splatter on the ground. Later I help him pick up the sticky pieces of yolk and the colorful bits of eggshell littered around the yard and street, and we have much more fun than we ever could have had monotonously eating all those hard-boiled eggs day after day.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Big Milestone!!
On Friday, October 1, 2010, I received my first ever SILLY BAND!!! These things are so cute and charming, and I just love them! Giuliana and I picked Vinny up from school on Friday, and I took him Staples so he could buy more silly bands for his collection....When he was showing them to us on the drive home, he held up this cute little pink snail, and I fell in love! When we got home, he gave the snail to me, and I haven't taken it off all weekend! How adorable is this???
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