Nature vs. Nurture

Remi started preschool a few weeks back. On her first day we walked in, found her cubby, and she took off for the play area. Not a backwards glance, not a whimper, not even a "Bye, Mommy." I had to track her down to reassure my unconcerned child that I would, in fact, be back to pick her up in a few hours.

Who cares? her demeanor seemed to say, I'm surrounded by new toys and countless 3 year olds. This from a child with no previous daycare experience and limited interactions with kids her own age.

So I worried about her, despite this auspicious start. Would she make friends? Would she play with the other kids? Had I irreparably stunted her social growth by failing to identify and solidify her BCF (Best Childhood Friend) relationship pre-birth? Apparently not.

I met with her teacher, and the official word is that Remi is settling in just fine. That she not only plays with other kids, but that she's always in the middle of things. That she's a little director of sorts and they've dubbed her the Teacher's Assistant.

So I guess what this tells me is that nature won out. That if you're social, you're social, and Remi was just waiting for a nurturing chance to let her personality bloom.

What Remi Learned from Disneyland

What Remi learned from our recent trip to Disneyland consists of three very important facts:

1. The Pooh ride is scary
2. It's A Small World is too loud
3. You have to wait in line

She talked about it for weeks: the trip, meeting the characters, seeing the castle. And even more interesting, she played it for weeks. We set up boats and sang the Small World song. Her "buddies" got in the bus and drove to Disneyland. Her bath toys got in plastic tubs and floated down river.

But best of all was the waiting in line. Remi and I waited in line. Remi's buddies waited in line. Remi's bath toys waited in line. The rides themselves were pretty short--the focus, seemingly, was waiting in line. And there was no resentment about it, no impatience. It was fun. Everybody was having a good time. And when each toy reached the front of the line, it returned, uncomplaining, to the back of the line.

And though the waiting sometimes culminated in a ride, it never culminated in the Pooh ride, because the Pooh ride is scary.

Mooken Junkie

Remi is a little bit of a music junkie (that would be "mooken" junkie in Roo-speak). Probably a trait she gets from Dada.

Back when it was just Roo and Mama hanging out most of the time, she used to listen to toddler music. And she's definitely got some toddler favorites. But any music, and toddler music in particular, really grates on the nerves after the 100th listen. (Unless, of course, you're a toddler, in which case that's about the time it's just getting good.)

So in steps Dada, who has a much lower tolerance for "Six Little Ducks" than Mama does. And suddenly we're driving around listening to regular, adult mooken. And a whole new world of rock-n-roll opens up. And now Remi's music favorites have expanded to include "Kung Foo Fighting" and Devo's "Peekaboo." Not that she has forsaken her love of Charlotte Diamond -- she still loves a good listen of "Looking for Dracula," especially when Ena is visiting -- but we're slowly opening the horizons. A move we will no longer regret when she becomes a teenager who is looking to expand our musical horizons.

Gingerbread Extravaganza

Last weekend was the Gingerbread Extravaganza at the Bay Area Discovery Museum (otherwise known as "Sugar High Extraordinaire"). I wasn't sure Remi was old enough for gingerbread house making, but she had a great time.

First, she opened the bag of candy and started eating it.
Once I convinced her to save the candy for the house, she discovered the frosting and started eating that. Fortunately she's only 2, and her attention span just isn't that long: before she could eat the house she lost interest and went outside to run off the sugar.

Our Little Groupie

Remi attended her very first concert, and boy, is she hooked.

I have to admit I had my doubts. Could it really be worth it to pay full price concert ticket rates to take a2 year old to a show? You'd think they'd give a price break based on the diminutive size of their audience, but noooooo. In the end, like the myriad of other parents we saw there, we decided that yes, our little bunny was worth it.

So off we carted Roo one cold Sunday to a surprise outing: Yo Gabba Gabba! Live! There's a Party in My City!

And it blew her little mind.

Her first clue was the Yo Gabba Gabba poster. When she caught sight of that, she pointed and started chanting, Yo Gabba Gabba! Yo Gabba Gabba!

As exciting as the poster appeared, she still had no idea what was in store for her. Her next exciting stop: the official Yo Gabba Gabba merchandise and a Brobee backpack. Then it was on to the concert hall.

From the time the show started she had her hands over her ears and her eyes glued to the stage. For a while, I wondered whether she was totally freaked out or just taking it all in. But about 15 minutes in she cried out "Yo Gabba Gabba!" like the little groupie that she is, and I knew she was having the time of her life.

Remi's new job

Remi really likes to clean the toilet.

I discovered this when I brought home a toilet brush. I freed the new item from it's packaging, then left it in the living room, planning to bring it to it's final destination at a later time. But Remi, well, she had no such patience. She saw that thing sitting there, picked it up, and took off for the bathroom, lickety split. Next thing I knew, she was swish, swish, swishing in the toilet water with that brush, happy as a little clam.

Now, cleaning the toilet at home is a messy business, but relatively harmless. Trouble starts when we're out and about. Just the other day, I was out at a Mexican restaurant. When I got up to use the bathroom, Remi followed along. Nothing out of the ordinary there. What I didn't know was that, on an earlier trip to the bathroom with Auntie K, she had spied... you got it... a toilet brush.

Off we go to the bathroom, and no sooner am I in the stall with my pants down then she sees her chance. Scooch, scooch, scooch, quick as a bunny, she's under the stall door and taking off. "Remi, come back!" I'm calling, rather ineffectually, as I'm trying to make myself decent enough to run after her.

But she had not, as I feared, left the bathroom for parts unknown. No, when I finally managed to get myself decent what I saw was Remi, in the opposite stall, toilet brush in hand, happily cleaning the toilet. Now, if only they would hire her...

The Walk of the Town

Remi's developed a new walk. Who can blame her? At the ripe age of 2 her old walk has gotten, well, old. I mean, she has been using it for almost a year.

First it was walking backwards. She'd just walk backwards around the house, not really keeping an eye out behind herself. She got pretty confident with that one, but I suppose the shortcomings of not being able to see where you are going finally made themselves known. I haven't seen her walking backwards for a while now.

Instead, she's started doing this thing where she walks around the house with her knees bent, so she's always down in a slight crouch. Then she takes her steps in a kind of halting fashion, so each step is distinctly separate from the step before. Her arms stay still, but her shoulders kind of get in on the action. There's something very lumbering about the whole thing.