Rapunzel...again

All morning, Alice tells me a story with many, many chapters. It starts in a land of fairies that don't serve tea. They eat fairy dust and cocoa. Everything in that land is candy and chocolate. Even the ground. The ground is chocolate and there are gummy worms living under it and you have to get a big shovel and "Nnnnghuh!" get the worms out. She tells me three chapters in the time it takes to change Robert's diaper and get him dressed. She then tells me the story has six chapters altogether.

Somehow, I don't remember how, but the story morphs one detail at a time to include toys and playthings and other morning routine elements (tooth brushing, prayer, etc.) as the morning progresses. Now she's in the story, an integral character, the queen. She rocks her baby Rapunzel to sleep and I'm assigned the role of king. She dons her regal queen voice which is half-whisper, half-song and continues to tell me the story as she dances it out. Her royal queen dress also happens to be the dress she's wearing to preschool. I shuffle around getting everything gathered to go out the door (keys, wallet, Buddy, backpack, shoes on everyone) and when I start listening to her story again she's now the princess Rapunzel and I'm the queen. We go to the car and Alice proclaims that I am the good queen and Mrs. Strom (her preschool teacher) is the mean witch who will trap her forever in the tower. I buckle her into her seat. We start driving to preschool and Alice tells me I am delivering her to the witch. She whispers more of the story to herself on the short drive over.

As we pull up to the preschool, I hear Alice whisper in a harsh and gravely tone, "This is where you'll stay for-EVER!" and then she gasps a princess gasp. Then the gravely voice says it again and the princess sigh is even more distressed. I unbuckle her and she skips to the preschool door, still quietly creating dialogue in two voices. She's so enthralled with her story that she doesn't even say "hi" to Mrs. Strom. She sweeps in and glide-dances about the room exploring this tower cell that will imprison her for eternity. She's gasping and flitting around. Mrs. Strom, not the slightest bit ruffled, says, "Good morning, Alice."

"I'm not Alice."

"Ah! I see. Well, who are you?"

"I'm Duh-nay-nuh."

Mrs. Strom smiles and we share a knowing glance. Another day in the life of Alice.

Cocoa

Bobby made oatmeal for breakfast today (yum!). I was telling him how much I appreciated that because I was just about to be lazy and make cocoa and toast instead (a delicious alternative, but not as healthy, and certainly MUCH more mess to clean up!). Alice heard "cocoa" and perked up in her seat.

"I want cocoa. Can I have cocoa?"

"No, today is oatmeal. We can have cocoa and toast tomorrow."

(*whine whine fuss* she writhes in her chair with disappointment)

Suddenly she sits up, puts her hands flat on the table and proclaims, "But today is a special occasion!"

"Really? What day is this?"

"It's Aina's birthday!"

"*gasp* But it was Aina's birthday two days ago (and half of the month of March, I might add)."

"Uh...this is a different Aina. My kid Aina. Today is her birthday and April 7th is her birthday."

"Two birthdays? And one of them is Kayla's birthday too! What a lucky kid."

This little kernel of a new story took Alice's attention away from the cocoa issue and straight into a 10-minute description of Aina's life and birthday history. Too many details to record here, unfortunately.

Opened the Floodgates

Okay, so I tried it. I asked questions about Aina. Something this afternoon reminded Bobby and me of the dogs from our childhood. Bees! That's it. Alice was asking if this was a good day for bees (she's terrified of them, so she's always asking about bee-friendly weather). Both of these dogs from our childhoods ate bees. Alice thought that was pretty funny. Then she told us about when she was a little kid living with Aina.

"We had a dog that liked to eat bees and everything else that isn't good for us."

"Wow! What was the dog's name?"

"Roh-nu. That was Aina's dog. And he ate bees but she took the stingers off. That way he didn't get stinged."

"And then my dog, Ru-noh...," she continued for some time about these dogs and growing up with them. Maybe it's my mucous filled head, but I couldn't keep possibly remember all the details she threw out there on our short trip to the hardware store.

Maybe I'll carry a recorder on me the next time. Mwah ha ha haaaaaaa!

I'm glad, in the end, that her imagination remains intact and it's only me that's grown less story-thusiastic. I can change me :)

Aina Lives On

Alice still talks about Aina. Pretty much every day. The problem is, she uses Aina so casually now that I forget to write it down. Alice asks a question, I answer it, then she tells me Aina's experience with that topic, which is almost always totally opposite of Alice's experience.

For example:

"Mom, why do the signs say 35?"

"Those are the speed limit signs. They tell us how fast we're allowed to drive on this street."

"What happens if you go too fast?"

"Then I'm breaking the law and I could get a ticket."

"Aina went too fast. She got a ticket for going too fast. Are you going too fast?"

"Nope. Just right."

No more of those awesome fantasy worlds filled with detail :( Then again, that's probably because I don't ask for details anymore. There's not one "why?" or "tell me about..." in that whole conversation. I'll ask for more details the next time Aina pops up. I've actually been missing Alice's thought experiments a little. Now I have a theory as to why they've disappeared from our conversations. Woo hoo for blogging!

Joni Wins a Prize

"Hey Mom, can you open the purple bucket for me please?"

"Sure."

"Jonie won a prize. He won it at my school. Not my preschool, but my school. He's in first grade. No, he's in second grade. No, he's in third grade. No, he's in fourth grade."

"A prize? What did he win?"

"A pepper. Jonie loves peppers."

I open the bucket and she carts it away. She throws her pretend red bell pepper into it and replaces the lid, "Here Jonie! Here's your prize!"

Alice doesn't like red peppers. She doesn't like any peppers. It's a good thing she and Jonie have complimentary interests.

Introducing Jonie

Alice got married yesterday...and the day before. She's also going to get married when she grows up. The lucky guy is Jonie (when it's not Robert, her brother). He's a nice guy. He is the first male pretend friend ("he's my 'tend friend") to have a consistent name. He's starting to pop up more often these days. Apparently, he and Aina have completely opposite interests and opinions, but they both get along for Alice's sake.

Aina likes to dip her pretzels in mandarin oranges. Jonie doesn't. 

I asked Alice to describe Jonie for me. She says he is tall with brown hair and has pale skin and has hairy arms like Daddy.

I...guess...that's...okay...

Today for quiet time, Alice is playing Dinosaur Monopoly with Aina and Jonie. It sounds like a pleasant game, even if the rules are complex and random.

Pinatas

We're making a special pinata this year for Alice's 4th birthday party. We finished the papier mache this morning and put it aside to dry. Alice wanted to paint right away, but I explained to her that something this wet would need to dry overnight. She went silent for a moment, popped a pretzel into her mouth and shared this:

"You know Aina got out of her bed this night. She got out and touched the pinata to see if it was wet or not. It was dry! Then she hid."

"She hid?"

"Yeah. And you got up in the morning and looked in her bed and she wasn't there. And then you looked for her and couldn't find her."

"Where was she hiding?"

"In the living room."

"Behind the snuggle chair?" (one of Alice's favorite hiding spots)

"Nope. Behind the kitchen table." Then she paused, catching herself in an impossible scenario. I raised my eyebrow. She smiled.