Pretend mouse

It was a big day yesterday.

Hazel was wandering around the back yard with a big dry leaf in her hand, chatting to it. I saw her from inside the house, and my feet walked outside. I was driven by a vague feeling that I needed to hassle her a bit.

Is that really a leaf? That is a very long stalk. That leaf is kind of mouse-shaped. Like, actually, really mouse-shaped.

By the time I was on the deck, Hazel had come over to show me. Thankyou, feet, you brought me to somewhere that I needed to be.

Hazel said, "I have a pretend mouse. It doesn't move."

I said, "Oh ah well that actually is a real mouse, but it's a dead one. That's why it doesn't move. And, you know what, we don't play with dead creatures. Here, let's pop that on the ground right here, and go inside to wash hands. After you play with a mouse, a dead one or an alive one, you must wash your hands. Let's get a bit more soap on your hands. And here's the scrubbing brush, I'm scrubbing your hands, wow there's a lot of soap here, you will be really clean!" And so on.


Later that day, she covered herself in dog shit, but that's a story that I'll let Trudi tell.

Roving ring-a-ring-a-rosie

At Melbourne Zoo yesterday, Ivy and Hazel played a wrestlin' version of the game with Zara.

Risotto made with sushi rice

Noone will know if I don't tell them.

Drawing Hazel

Ivy had a snack. I heard her saying Drawing HAZEL Drawing Hazel. Here is her rendering of her sister (milk on table).

Divvy divvy

You put the Yo Gabba Gabba DVD in the machine. Then you turn it on with the mote control. Then you don't stand too close or... or... you don't stand too close to the telly or... the mummies talk! They talk and talk and they say "Don't stand too close or I will turn it off".

We are in the car on the way home from Merimbula, and Hazel just uttered this monologue. After a stop in Orbost for lunch at 10am, we are back on the road, hoping the girls have their nap soon.

Up high

Ivy likes to be up high. Here she is the maccas playground in Merimbula, up very high. When your kid has a cold and you had a night of crying, you do whatever it takes, and sometimes that means going to maccas to use their playground and toilets. I took Hazel to the beach, and Trudi took Ivy to the boardwalk and playground. We all got by.

Tootle

Hazel is a train. Some days she is a spider-train, and occasionally she is a spider-cat-train. Lately, she's mostly just a train.

She likes to be called Tootle. This is a Golden Book, about a train who keeps getting off the tracks and having fun in a meadow. Eventually he learns his lesson and grows up to be a fast train betwee New York and Chicago.

Hazel (sorry, Tootle), does train arms, where she waves her arms around as she runs. They are meant to be train wheels, I think. Her technique is a bit sketchy.

Ivy also professes to be Tootle, but she's not as heartfelt about it. I think she wants to be Tootle so that she can match Hazel.

Me: Hazel, can you please come over here so I can put your socks on?

Hazel: Tootle!

Me: Sorry. Tootle, can you come get your socks on please?

Hazel: Tootle is getting her socks on. Here I come. Socks on Tootle's feet. Tootle has socky feet.