Cooking with Fanny

I think Peanut would watch Cooking with Fanny all day long if it were a television show. Of course, she might be banging on the screen and screaming, "Fanny! Fanny!" the whole time as she tried to jump through the screen to get to the hostess, but some days I might be able to live with that if it let me get the dishes done. I digress...

Peanut loves to help cook, and she loves Fanny, so this is a total win-win. I get nervous only occasionally as Fanny has the confidence to use remarkably large knives around my daughter, but by and large the language acquisition skills and the sheer thrill of sorting vegetables overrides my anxiety. 

What's that? An onion, or part of my finger! (Just kidding people)

Taste testing is a bonus.

 

Really, could you get a happier face? 

 

And, just in case you thought I was exaggerating about the knife...

  Yup sister, I thought the same thing.

Animal Dreams

This is totally not Peanut.

Peanut seems to have a love/hate relationship with animals. Perhaps it is better deemed an attraction/profound uncertainty relationship (though that isn't quite as snappy and probably would not fit on this kid's knuckles). She seems to hear every animal in our neighborhood (of which the variety is greater than you might imagine...), and imitates them with great gusto. While in the kitchen I may hear a high-pitched "Guau! Guau!" (Spanish for Bow-wow or Ruff-ruff, or whatever the kids these days are saying). Later while we are eating comes the "Ki-ki-ri-kiiii" of the rooster next door. Birds offer the widest range of possible noises, and don't get me started on cat fights. Whenever she actually sees the animals in question she always puts out her hand to beckon them and says "Ven! Ven!" (Come here!), but if they actually do come...well, then she is not sure what to do.

Part of the problem is that her mom is not sure what to do either. I am not completely trusting of pets in the States either, but here they are less often people-oriented. Toddlers are also a perpetual challenge because you never know when that cat tail is going to look like a good pull toy, resulting in a well-deserved cat-smack that sends your animal dreams into nightmares. Luna, the dog across the street, is a good bet for a quick petting fix, but even when she comes running up to Peanut I usually have to brace myself against a wall to not get knocked over as my daughter runs headlong into my knees.

Still, the idea of animals captivates the Nutter, so we take occasional trips to the zoo, and one day went so far as to a farm with a petting zoo outside of town. There she touched a few of the animals...

 

was content to look at some of the others (while mom obviously wants to have a full on conversation with them),

It was big, but as we did not size all the other animals, I think we were going for "Pig"...

 and very willing to jump up and ride others (okay, if they were made out of rock).

Because the zoo is one of the only things to actually do in town that does not involve shopping or just randomly riding the bus, we go there fairly often. She now announces several of the animals before we get to them, and makes sure to tell them all "Chao" before we leave them. She is totally cool with her friends when they are behind glass, 

or wrapped up in someone's arms,

and evidently even when her mom let's her hang on the fence to see the anteaters before seeing the, "Please keep your kids off the fence" sign that is prominently located immediately to the right of her daughter's dangling legs.

Oops.

But get an animal that joins her on the other side of the fence, and she turns into a monkey that climbs up your legs and makes funny sounds in that hopes they will help her get off the ground faster. I am not sure what to do really, except try to make her feel as comfortable as I can and keep all animals in reach as safe as possible. So if we come to your house this fall, then let us make a deal now: you warn your beloved cat/dog/fish/lizard/wewillnotstayatyourhouseifyouhaveasnakesodon'tworryaboutit, and I will warn Peanut. We will all see what happens from there.

Their Fault

I mean seriously, I haven't written since MARCH? Good Lord. Peanut could be fifteen by now, and you all would not even know it.

Okay, perhaps you would know if she were suddenly fifteen. I probably would have found time to write about that. I pointed out on our other poor, ignored, sad little blog that we were not celebrating May in Colombia this year, but that still leaves April unaccounted for here. I blame it on Matt and Emily.

The truth is, they came down to Colombia to visit (sans the Satch-meister, sadly) and they infected us with their devil-may-care attitudes and their general zest for life and their departure left us depressed and bereft. Come to think of it, perhaps it was they who took away May here too...this is all starting to come together now that I am back into the swing of things... I mean really, just look at these sinister faces. Yeah, you see what I mean.

Before they arrived, we had talked a lot about Matt and Emily coming, so when we went to the airport in Cartagena to pick them up she kept looking through the window as if she would pick them right out. Since 8 months had passed, almost doubling her actual age when she saw them last, we thought we should stay vigilant as well. Plus, you never know what Matt will look like at any given time. (Tell me I'm wrong.) Though she was quiet an observing at first (as is her way), it was not long before Peanut woke up asking for "At" and "Emi" as soon as I walked in her room. (Okay, full honesty, it was mostly for Emi. That must be tempered, however, with the fact that "Emi" seemed to apply to either Matt or Emily.)

We started in Cartagena with carriage rides, cold drinks, walks through the old city and the fort with a great city view and stayed in a hotel with a pool on the roof and a double-decker bedroom with great peek-a-boo stairs. We got to open presents that included new clothes and shoes from Satchel, a puzzle, and fine imported food stuffs like JIF peanut butter and rice cakes (we ask for only the best). In Barranquilla we visited the (well air-conditioned) Caribbean Museum, ate the required Crepes and Waffles meals, and headed out to the beach - as well as dancing it up a bit with the neighbors and taking our afternoon park walks. 

We don't know if At and Emi had all the vacation they might have wanted, but we had the visit we desperately needed. Thanks y'all. Except for that ruining our blogging part. That was not cool.

Helping

Peanut is a helper.

Besides being in the monkey-see, monkey-do stage (which has led us to buy her a pint-sized broom, dustpan, and mop and simultaneously curbed our tendency to dump swept up ants out the window...), Peanut really likes doing things we ask of her. We are aaaalllll about taking advantage of this moment as my mother can (and will) attest to its impermanence. The challenge right now is not so much enlisting Peanut's help, as directing it; finding particular ways in which Peanut can be the helper that she is without having to pass her off to Papi while I gather all the hair I have recently pulled out of my own head. 

For what it's worth, here are some of my mental notes:

1. Toddlers (or at least Peanut) like to sweep.

• Toddlers do not actually see the dirt that needs to be swept unless it has been gathered up in a nice pile.
• When dirt is gathered up in a nice pile, it looks like there is a lot of it (and in all fairness there may be...).
• When you move a little broom back and forth through the nice pile, the dirt scatters everywhere.
• When the dirt scatters everywhere, there doesn't look like near so much of it anymore - SCORE!
• Toddler Lesson: Get rid of the big pile to be a helper.
• Mami Lesson: Make a little big pile at one end of the room and then make your big pile at the other. Sweep fast.

2. Toddlers (or at least Peanut) like to help in the kitchen.

• Toddlers have absolutely no concept of what is going on with the whole dish washing thing.
• Toddlers do reallllly like water.
• Given how much time is spent doing it, washing dishes must be the most important job in the house and therefore any toddler must be a part of the action. If this involves forcing one's body between Mami's legs and the sink and grunting/bawling...well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
• Most of the time (at least with Peanut) the dishes inside the sink are considered mine, while the dishes outside the sink are considered hers.
• After touching a given dish/cup/fork 4.5 times, it must go into the sink - even if Mami has already washed it...twice.
• And, just so we are all clear, holding a spatula is better than not holding a spatula.

3. Toddlers (or at least Peanut) like to put things away. Sort of.

• Okay, so we all know they like dumping things out more, but she does like to do some restoring.
• Asking Peanut to take shoes to a bedroom will buy you 43 seconds of sweeping in the living room unaided.
• Asking Peanut to take shoes to your bedroom is pointless. The will all wind up in her bedroom anyway.
• The first set of shoes generally makes it to the bedroom, and even into the closet.
• The second set of shoes may make it into the bedroom.
• The third set of shoes, if they even get noticed, and if they possibly make it back to the bedroom, will not likely be found for a day or two.
• Downside: Putting shoes away often means bringing shorts or a t-shirt back out. 
• Bright side: you figure the shoes made it to the room.

Have a Seat

Peanut loves to sit.

It is not that she stays sitting or still for very long, but she absolutely adores finding places to sit. Once, when we were at Abuelita's house, Peanut kept leaving the room we were in and going toward the stairs. I thought that she was interested in climbing as she can go up and down for hours, but when I followed her she would just go to the bottom stair, turn around, and sit. Looking in the den I realized that we were all sitting on chairs, but there was nothing Peanut-sized to sit on. One sturdy shoebox later, we were in business. Damn the stairs; I have a real seat now!

But shoeboxes aren't the end of it. Who hasn't looked at your dustpan and thought, "That looks perfect," and hunkered right down?

Or what about building blocks? They may look sharp and uncomfortable, but they do keep your tush off the floor! And if you take aaaallll the blocks out of their container...well, then you have yet another place to sit.

The little chairs at church are ideal and can keep Peanut's attention even when some of the service may not.

So as she grows older, make sure you know that if you invite the Nutter to come in and sit a spell, it is an invitation she will never refuse. Just put your dustpan away first.