Fall harvest

The beans, peas and lettuce are long gone. The remaining cucumbers are too big and lack flavor. The tomatoes are still growing, but slowly, and dozens of green tomatoes probably will succumb to the first frost.
There are still potatoes in the ground, though, and until the other day a few dozen carrots also were still rooted.
Elise has enjoyed the garden this year. She figured out early on that the garden is where you go to eat countless cherry tomatoes. As the summer progressed, she seemed to learn that some things have to be removed with a shovel and now asks for her shovel whenever she heads for the garden. The other day she and Anni, shovels in hand, dug up the rest of the carrots. Then, we think Elise learned the hard way that carrots taste better if you wash off big clumps of dirt before trying to eat them.

 I try to take one black and white photo and this is the look I get.

 

After work, play.

Earn your keep

If she's old enough to pull vegetables from the garden, she's old enough to cut them.

(OK, here's the disclaimer: Despite its serrated design, I've seen spoons sharper than this knife.)

Something worth remembering

Just when the 18-month-old's potty training seems to be going splendidly, and she is wrapping up a very good day, you suddenly find yourself sitting on the edge of the bathtub trying to corral and calm down the 18-month-old, who descended abruptly from her toilet seat to the floor and into a screaming tantrum and, wearing only a shirt and purple little-lady underpants, is wailing and flailing and thrashing like a trapped alligator -- all because you asked her to help you put on her pants.
Then, after about 5 minutes of screaming and squirming, your wife walks in, calmly says, "This is what I've been dealing with all week," and proceeds to quickly and mysteriously bring the 18-month-old back from the brink of all-out meltdown.
Minutes later, the three of you are sitting at the dinner table, quietly devouring homemade pizza, and the toddler, despite glimmers of tears still in the corners of her eyes, seems perfectly content and apparently has put behind her any lingering emotions from the bathroom bout.
You try to do the same.

Elise, meet Samantha. Now bond.

Elise no longer is the only granddaughter on Anni's side of the family, and she seems just fine with that.
Anni's sister Laura had her baby early this morning. Samantha Marie. Mom and baby are healthy.
What better way to introduce her to the world (OK, to our family) than to put her in the arms of a toddler?
So there they were, the 18-month-old cousin embracing the 18-hour-old cousin. Apparently Elise did a good job holding Samantha and enjoyed playing with her toes and nose. (One has reason to worry, or at least monitor from a close distance, after watching Elise strap "Baby," the infant doll, into a toy stroller in our house and send her careening into a wall from time to time.)
Congratulations to the Myers family.

Something worth remembering

She's 18 months old. This morning, I was counting something out loud. I got to 2 and then stopped when I realized she was counting along. She continued on her own, counting to 7. Then she stopped and looked at me as though she was saying, "Hey, I'm not doing this all morning. You count again."
Maybe that's a routine ability at her age and it probably was the result of repetition learning. Nevertheless, it surprised the heck out of me.

A little love for the successor

Elise is about to get booted from the throne.
There is no end in sight to her reign as the only grandchild on my side of the family, but she soon will become just another in a budding brood on Anni's side of the family. OK, maybe not just another, but in a few short weeks she will give up the title of youngest grandchild and, therefore,  the one most worthy of attention.
Anni's sister Laura is due with Child 3 (and Girl 1) yet this month. We've tried to warn Elise that her reign is coming to a close, but like another queen, she isn't going to fade easily.
Anni did, however, get her to show a little love to her eventual successor. Well, it's either a kiss or the queen tipped over:

Cousins in the crib

I think we're going to need a bigger cage.

And, in fact, we're getting a bigger cage. It's not so much a cage as it is a real bed. Is Elise ready for a twin bed? Who knows? Definitely not me, but with growing families sometimes the hand-me-downs become hand-me-backs, and that's what is happening with the crib. It belongs to Anni's sister Laura (to whom the other two animals in this photo belong), and she is just days from becoming Mom to her third (and first girl). So, the crib is going back -- thanks again for saving us from having to get one -- and in its place will be a like-new twin mattress, another much-appreciated hand-me-down of sorts.

I'm certain that once we move Elise into the new bed we're going to find her wandering the upstairs early in the morning. (Note to self: Lock the gate to downstairs.)

Anni is going to pick up some bumpers or rails or maybe even snow fencing to put around the mattress because Elise is a wild sleeper.

Duluth

Last weekend we went to Duluth for a short vacation with the other half of the Wente-Singel Four -- our friends Dan and Erin, along with their daughter, Avery.

We got a discounted Canal Park hotel hook-up, thanks to Anni's cousin Greta. There are worse places to spend a weekend than at a hotel with Lake Superior out the back door. 

With two toddlers in tow, we mainly bummed around Canal Park, but did manage to get out to Park Point, a local swimming landmark that somehow has eluded me after 14 years of visiting Duluth with Anni. (Yes, it's been 14 years.)

It was an enjoyable weekend, even if I did not take a dip in the very chilly Superior. (Just because Duluthians can treat the lake water temperature like it's bath water doesn't mean a water wimp like myself can tolerate it.)

As for Elise, she did pretty well. The inner-toddler reared its volatile head from time to time, gently reminding me that just when you think to yourself, 'Self, you've got this toddler under control,' she flops down on the pavement and wails, fists pounding and feet kicking.

All in all, though, a great mini-vacay. And I think the trip ended with the Wentes and Singels still buds. Although, we haven't talked since. Huh...

Little girl, big lake.

'Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the car, hold a toddler and walk a straight line across these slippery stepping stones.'

This impromptu mini-tantrum led to ...

... this.

Duluth is so cool it makes bubbling sewer water appealing.

Predictably, Elise was pawing at the bottom shelf, not the one labeled "sugar-free."

Weighing the options outside a vintage candy shop.

Avery was nice enough to share her candy with Elise. I'm not sure Elise returned the gesture.

Not even a smiling, hat-clad toddler could lure Elise into that chilly water.

'This, Elise, is a zebra mussel. Let's tuck it under your hat and transport it to another lake.'

A kayaker was worth 50 points, if you know what I mean. Ore boats 100 points.

Something worth remembering

We're in the backyard. Elise hears an airplane. She looks up in the sky. She sees that there actually are two planes flying by. She pauses, then says: "Whoah!"

Dach day

Spain may have the running of the bulls, but Woodbury has the dashing of the Dachshunds.

Each August there is a Dachshund Dash, where a few dozen well-groomed wiener dogs compete in what amounts to a 30-yard sprint, which I suppose is quite the jaunt if you're only 14 inches long with 3-inch legs.

Anni's sister Jenee and her soon-to-be-hub Greg entered their Dachshund Rainie in the dash, which Elise really got a kick out of watching. (Anni had prepped Elise by making a shirt that read: "Go, Dach. Go!" Sound familiar? It's one of Elise's favorite books right now.)

A lot of people turned out for the event. Now, if only one of those pint-sized pups had jumped the barrier, a la Pamplona. Maybe next year.

Anni, Jenee and the cousins. And the contestant.

We popped for the pricey trackside seats.

A little appreciation for a fan.

Snapper stalker

Elise likes lawnmowers. So much so, in fact, that she will stop whatever she is doing and rush to the nearest window if she hears our next-door neighbor Marty mowing his lawn. Usually that is followed by a trip outside to watch him from our driveway.
It's pretty funny, really, and our neighbor is a good sport about it.

You couldn't nuke these cukes

Just a sampling

About this time last year I wrote about how we grow two things: a child and a garden. The child, unlike the garden, insists on having water daily.
This is Garden III at our house and overall it's been the most successful yet. That is more a result of a hot summer with plenty of rain than it is a product of our gardening knowledge, which is scant. We planted seeds. We watered, occasionally weeded and then waited. Wouldn't you know, everything grew: potatoes, tomatoes, peas, pea pods, beans, peppers (orange and red), carrots, onion, lettuce and cucumber.
Oh, the cucumber. Anni planted a total of six plants, hoping at least some of them would take. Well, they all did, and 80 -- yes, 80 -- cucumbers later, we're still finding them in varying stages of growth. These are the toughest plants; you cut them back and they grow twice as big. I like a good cucumber, as do the ladies here, but we haven't eaten 80 of them. Most have been given away -- at this point we plead for people to take them -- and Anni brings many to school, for the kids and the teachers.
We cut back to just three tomato plants this year, but no worries. We've got bushels of tomatoes, enough that I'm going to master the art of making tomato sauce. (If you're Italian, I'll trade you a cucumber for any sauce tips.)
Elise, as you can imagine, is perfectly content to stand in the middle of the garden and treat it like a salad bar.
The other day we were digging potatoes. I dug up a spud the size of a softball, handed it to her to put in a bowl. She took one look at it, her eyes got big and she said, "Wow."
A few minutes later I looked in the bowl and one of the potatoes had suspicious little teeth marks.
Elise played innocent, but the dirt all around her mouth suggested otherwise.

This sums it up

No, this isn't Elise's drawing.
This drawing actually belongs to Anni, who did it while drawing with Elise at the cabin last month. That was the trip that included a stop at the blueberry patch.
Now, some of you know my theory that people who grew up with a pool at their house always are annoyingly splashing or dunking or spraying water from between their teeth. It drives the rest of us -- OK, me -- nuts.
Anyway, this picture pretty much sums up everybody's mindset at the cabin.

Cabin weekend II

Breaking with tradition, Anni and I decided to take a second trip to her family's cabin this year. Our first weekend there, in July, was a great time. Lots of relaxation, good food and plenty of time in the water for Elise.

Last weekend was no different, except for the water time. The temperature dropped to the mid-70s and it got windy, so our time dunking in Dunn Lake was limited. Interestingly, it wasn't Elise who was complaining about the water and cold air, nor was it Anni...

Because it's so quiet and relaxing and Elise seems to do well there, we're thinking about one more trip to the cabin yet this year. Until then, some photos from last weekend:

Eyes.

Sometimes you just want to sit and play with a shoe...

... or enjoy the breeze off the lake.

Keeping the cabin clean. Elise really likes her spray bottle.

Too cold to swim, so we took a walk.

She likes pine cones. We've finally taught her not to eat them.

 She found the dinner bell.

 A good view.

 Child monster or monster child?

 I'm convinced my uneven squint makes it look like I have a glass eye. Anni says nobody will notice. Too late. So, glass eye or not?

 I tried to be stealthy, but she spotted me from a distance.

Impromptu shot of unplanned color coordination.

On the way home.

Holy crap! (Well, pee, actually.)

I've realized that when you have a child, you are so consumed by rearing and providing life's essentials during the first year or so (Does she need to eat? Is she warm enough? Maybe she's too hot. She just grimaced -- does that mean she has a rare illness or is just filling her diaper?) that you don't do much looking ahead.
It helps to be aware of what growth stage is coming up, what significant development is on the horizon -- or at least to have a wife who can multi-task and, therefore, rear and plan simultaneously.
Admittedly, I don't do much looking ahead, at least in terms of child phases and development. I would like to think that is because of my focus on the present, but someone I live with could easily suggest that focus should be strengthened.

----

Apparently, one of the milestones of toddlerism (my word, but you can use it) is potty training. I say "apparently" because that is the latest rearing activity that I had not considered, planned for or even realized was just around the corner.
Well, we reached the corner this week.
I was called into Anni's (and Elise's) school for a parent-teacher conference. I thought these begin at kindergarten and involve report cards, but they start earlier.
The question of the conference: Should we try potty training Elise, who is now 17 months old? It was Anni's idea.
The answer as we left the conference was, yes, let's try. But here are the conditions, which came from Elise's very capable teacher: Let's be on the same page at school and at home. Also, we will start by just putting her on the toilet every two hours, just to get her familiar with the, uh, experience of sitting up there. If she happens to time things well and understands enough to make use of the hopper while she's aboard, then we'll move to the next step.
That next step involves her wearing what I'll call "diaper-wear," which sort of resembles the underwear you would put a toddler in if you sent the kid to space. But we're not there yet.
So, the next question was, When should we start? Let's start this week, we decided, because what better time to start potty training than when you're headed to the cabin for three days? (That's our weekend plan.)
I'll spare you the potty-training logistics we settled on, but suffice it to say the lady might be working on a puzzle while she works on something else. Or reading a book. Or watching one of us watch her. (No privacy here, kiddo.)

----

Today was the first day the school staff introduced Elise to Princess Porcelain. Every two hours she climbed aboard. She was a little nervous at first, but let her guard down as the day progressed.
Late this afternoon one of the teachers (They all remain nameless on the blog because while some of them read the blog, I doubt any of them want to be identified.) rushed into Anni's office and said she had good news.
"Elise went pee on the potty!" she said.
Apparently, Elise's fellow toddlers approved of her accomplishment.
"When she went potty, the kids were standing by the door and they were all clapping for her," Anni told me later.
(Again, no privacy here, kiddo.)
So, there you have it. We're off to a good start, though I take no credit for this.
Now, we're fully prepared for this experiment to quickly go down the proverbial crapper, which would be fine. For all we know today was about coincidence. If that was the case, and she has a complete meltdown the next time we try to put her on the porcelain perch, we'll give it a rest and try again later.
In the meantime, I'm still trying to get used to using the word "potty." I would rather we had started this whole experiment by using "toilet" instead.
Of course, I could have worked on that had I been thinking ahead.

Note: For any of you who didn't want this much information, well, it's a little late now, isn't it?

Something worth remembering #1

I'm thinking of starting a new blog feature for fleeting-yet-notable observations of the parenting sort. 

I suppose it is a way to mark the oh-how-cute little things that I see (The word "cute" is only acceptable in the male vernacular if it is used to describe one's own daughter.) and which make me think to myself, "Self, you really should remember that for years from now when you're fed up with her curfew violations and regrettable piercings," and then promptly forget.

This is probably a good idea because my memory is horrible, details especially. It's a personality trait I leave off of job applications.

Also, consider these entries a favor to those of you with a short attention span.

Let's kick it off with this item from earlier today:

Watching Elise properly (and rather tidily) use a spoon to polish off two bowls of Anni's broccoli soup, without reminders to not scoop with both toddler talons. It was the first time she really got the hang of eating soup that has not been doctored to make it easier for her to eat. 

If you don't think that's a big deal, try cleaning soup puree from every nook and cranny of a high chair.