Prose Thursday

Live cricket count in basement (specimens were shortly thereafter dispatched): 2
Cricket corpse count (already dead upon discovery): 1

My new working theory is that the crickets somehow find their way from the outside into the unfinished side of the basement, where it is always dark. Especially now that i'm leaving that door closed all the time in a fruitless attempt to keep them out of the finished side of the basement. So they're singing their little hearts out (rubbing their little legs? Whatever it is that they do) night and day, day and night. Until they get so tired and rummy that they go for a stroll to the finished side. Where they seem to either be spotted and summarily disposed of, or they hide under the furniture (not much of that these days 'til we get our new couches -- Monday!) until they keel over and we find them when we slide furniture around. What a life.

(new, possibly not any more interesting subject)
As if Cinderella weren't bad enough in her own right, Lizzy has now found a LONGER VERSION -- more words, fewer illustrations -- to get us to read at night. However, she has not gotten the message that this means fewer books at night, total. We have mostly transitioned from the beautiful, three-minute-and-you're-done,-even-with-23-questions-per-page board books to the wow-Dr.-Seuss-sure-is-a-wordy-sonofagun-type "real" kids books. Arghh. We are now called upon to do the entire, "Salaga-doola, midgika-boola, Bibbity Bobbity Boo!" instead of just Bibbity Bobbity Boo. Matt and I have both been caught listening in on the other's rendition via the baby monitor. I have found few things more hilarious, and endearing, as hearing him read Lizzy's silly books to her.
The movie comes out 'for the first time on DVD' Oct. 4. Oh rapture.
Forty-five minutes seems a bit excessive for the span of the bedtime read, especially when one's daughter cannot be coerced into said bed until 9:30 or 9:45. This morning, she was so zonked still when we left the house at 7:30 that we had to take her straight from the bed to the car. Then I end up changing her from jammies and nighttime diaper into day clothes in front of the day care people, and feeling foolish. If only someone would patent little hammers that would put a kid out cold, but not permanently harm them physically or psychologically. Hey! There's an invention we can work on.

I just got an e-mail from another day care mom whose 2-year-old "doesn't want to wear clothes" in the morning. I don't know how lucky I have it.



Cute Disney crossover Lizzy phrase of the week (what is this, a homonym?):
"Daddy is a dear. Like Bambi!"
See the resemblance?! (must be the cleats.)