First Day of Glorified Daycare, uh, I Mean School

Margot started her 'preschool' program today. Let's face it, 'preschool' is just a euphemism for daycare, but so what. When Margot turns three in December, she'll move out of the toddler program and into the proper preschool program at Penn Children's Center.

Margot's classroom is called the Sea Turtles, and her teacher is named Marcus. She took her first day in stride, and didn't mind at all when I left this morning. In fact, amidst a sea of crying children, I saw her happily leading two wailers into her classroom when I left. When I picked her up, she looked disappointed.

Here she is with her lunchbag this morning.

Ballet in Pompei

(Hey, that rhymes.)

We're back from a trip to Italy, and while I am sinking from jet lag, I just uploaded my pictures onto my computer and wanted to post this one.

Here is a picture of Margot and our friend Rachel dancing ballet in the excavated colleseum in Pompei last week. (Rachel is a professional ballerina and Margot's new hero.)

Lessons in Exclusion

Lately, Margot has been hosting raucous tea parties in her room. An assortment of animal friends are regular attendees: Clover the bear, Puffy the dog, Bun, blanket, several Curious Georges, a lamb with extra long legs, a Care Bear, Clean Babi, Dirty Babi, and more. These parties usually take place on her bed and involve sipping from tea cups and lots of role playing between Margot and her animals. (In one conversation overheard this evening, Margot said, "That's awesome Babi! High five!" I have no idea what that was all about.)

Two of Brodie's childhood stuffed animals live in Margot's room: Teddy and Clyde. They both look as if they were well-loved in Brodie's childhood, and so don't have the softness of most of Margot's animals.

For some reason, Margot cruelly rejects these animals, mostly Teddy. Several times, Brodie checked in on Margot during one of her parties and found Min sitting on her bed, surrounded by her friends, and Teddy across the room in the stroller or in a corner. "Can Teddy join the party?" Brodie always asks. "No," says Margot. "There's no room." If Brodie persists, Margot gets really angry or really upset.

Seeing as she hasn't started her preschool program yet, I find it interesting that she is already practicing social exclusion. I'm not sure what to make of it. While we try to explain to Margot that everyone would like to attend the party, she still won't put Teddy on the guest list.

This evening, long after she was supposed to be asleep, I heard Margot chattering away in her room. She was hosting another party; note the position Teddy was forced to occupy. (He's the brown bear in the upper right.)

No More Crib!

In the past few days, Margot has made the big transition to sleeping in a 'big girl bed.'

It's been a pretty smooth transition. Since we moved and her crib was dissembled by the movers, I figured she was big enough and mature enough to sleep without bars. (Plus, I didn't want to reassemble it.) Much like potty training, it's gone by without a hitch. She really makes things so very easy for us but being perfectly amenable to all of our suggestions (ie. "Let's get rid of your crib that you've been sleeping in for the last 2.5 years" or "Let's go to London for the summer and induce jet lag" or "Let's move you to a new apartment where your new room is 3/4 of the size of your old room, which was already tiny!").

Since her room is so small, there really isn't any room for a twin bed, so she's just sleeping on her crib mattress on the floor. It'll do until next June, when we will probably move again.

The only issue with Margot's transition to a bed is that Portia thinks it's a new place for her to sleep. The other night, Margot cried out for Brodie, and when he went in to see what was the matter, Portia was sleeping on the pillow and Margot was at the bottom of the bed. Since then, it's been the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears: whenever we come home, Margot's bed is all messed up because Portia snuggles down under the covers while we're out.

Anyway, they are working it out, slowly.

Boastful

Margot and I are back home again, and Brodie will be home on Saturday. Whew!

Yesterday Min and I went to the playground in the afternoon. It was a hot and muggy day, and the playground was pretty empty, presumably because moms and dads and babysitters prefer air conditioning to swampy Philadelphia summers. But there was one very agile boy about Min's size near the monkey bars, and she headed his way to play.

"Look at me! Look at me!" he shouted to Margot, and he swung hand-over-hand easily from the monkey bars. I was seriously impressed - this kid was a good two inches shorter than Margot, but he swung like a monkey and dropped softly to the ground when he was finished (it was a good 8-10 foot drop). Wow, I thought. Is this kid two? (He was four, it turned out, but I see him headed to the Olympics in another 14 years.)

Margot watched, also impressed. She was not, however, ready to be outdone.

"Well..." she said, "look what I can do! I can do yoga!" she retorted (and yes, I think her tone qualified as a retort).

And she dropped into an almost-perfect downward facing dog position.

This is just another example of how Margot is more sophisticated at two than I was at 25.

I am so grateful for her every day, but mostly I am grateful for how much she makes me laugh.