NIGHT TIME RITUAL. There’s this turtle that projects a bunch of stars and a quarter-moon on the ceiling. When it’s bedtime, I turn that on, but leave the bedroom light on. Maisie climbs into her bed, I tuck her in along with Teddy (and God knows the world will end if Teddy can’t be found). Then I ask, “Are you ready for the stars?” And she answers, “And the moon.” Then I give her a big kiss, after which we both wipe it off our lips quite vigorously. Then I turn off the lights so she can fall asleep under the stars.
And the moon.
SEVEN TO TEN TIMES. These days, nothing can be done just once or even twice. Everything has to be done over and over and over again. For example, if she wants to roll her suitcase into the kitchen to visit “Auntie Baba,” she has to say she’s going to visit Auntie Baba, roll her suitcase into the kitchen, then back into the living room, say “I’m back,” then roll into the kitchen again, back into the living room, “I’m back,” back into the kitchen, back into the living room, etc. This has happened a few times, and by observation it appears that once she’s made the trip from living room to kitchen seven times, then and only then does it qualify as an official visit to Auntie Baba. Same holds true when outside and she straps herself in her wagon, wanting to be unstrapped ten seconds later. Which means you have to get up from your chair 7 to 10 times to strap and unstrap.
DRIVER’S TRAINING. Over the past few weeks, I thought it might be a good idea to begin demonstrating the fundamentals of safe driving. So Maisie is now proficient at yelling, “Move it, Lady,” “It’s called a gas pedal, lady,” as well as understanding the elemental truth that “Green Means Go…”