childhood Archives - Page 2 of 3 - The Ten Thousand Hour Mama

The best gift

April 10, 2015catherinemryan

My parents provided me with so much as I grew up.

They gave me the love of travel. When I was 12, my dad taught in Singapore for six months, and my half-year stay in Southeast Asia inspired my curiosity about different cultures and places.

They gave me a love of words. To hear them tell it, I read book after book (kind of like a certain toddler I know). One of my earliest memories is “writing” letters—squiggly lines across a sheet of paper—that I’d “mail” to family members. I now make my living as a writer and am so fortunate to work in my dream career.

But one thing I value over every other gift: They gave me siblings.

Ugly Christmas pajamas family photo — An outtake from the Ryan Family Christmas 2007 card

Nature painting: Process art for kids

March 31, 2015May 5, 2017catherinemryan

Lately, Peeper is fascinated by combining complementary things. “Together!” she cries, popping a bite of cheese and hot dog into her mouth, or “Pomegranate on top!” while balancing a seed on a forkful of peas and tofu.

Her enthusiasm makes me think of the scene in Ratatouille when Remy discovers how two tastes together can pop like fireworks or melt together for a transcendent out-of-body experience.

The other day, I followed her lead. Peeper loves art, and she loves the outdoors. So voila: nature painting!

Painting abundance

March 3, 2015catherinemryan

When we were growing up, my siblings and I sometimes had to go to Carma’s. Looking back, the day care surely wasn’t legal—it entailed dozens of kids and one grumpy woman more concerned about her soaps and her dogs than the children under her care, it seemed.

I vividly remember the vinyl couch and carpet covers that protected against spills. I remember one time when a queue of little kids stared at me as I sat on the toilet—a mortifying experience that told me I was holding up their pre-nap pee. I remember Carma once fixed me an egg salad sandwich instead of my usual PB&J and I sat at the table, horrified, deciding between eating a hated food or getting scolded.

Most of all, though, I remember that each child was allowed only one piece of paper to color. I would plan out my artistic vision, carefully choose my crayons and cover every inch of white—on both sides, of course.

Looking back, my heart breaks for 5-year-old me. There I was, stuck in a miserable day care I hated, with my one escape—Crayolas and art—arbitrarily limited.

Peeper, thankfully, is blissfully unaware that a limit on paper could actually exist. When she paints, she does so with a gleeful abandon, mashing her palms in the paint and clapping her rainbow-hued hands together. “Another one!” she says as she fills each page with smears of color. Before long, art covers the table, counters and even the stove.

Out favorite children’s books: Zoo books

February 24, 2015May 5, 2017catherinemryan

Ever since we went to Zoo Lights, Peeper has been talking about the zoo. It’s a good thing we have a ton of favorite children’s books about the zoo on regular rotation!

Peeper is all zoo, all the time. When I say we’re taking Finn for a walk, she says, “Zoo!” When I buckle her into her car seat, she says, “Zoo!” When we brush our teeth, she points to the picture of the rhino in the bathroom and says, “Zoo!” (Yes, we have a photo of a rhino in the bathroom. Don’t you?)

We’ve hit up the zoo a few times since then, and she continues to talk about the otters, tiger, rhino and fish she saw there. (She’s staying mostly mum on the hippos, though, after the recorded hippo calls the zoo plays completely terrified her.)

Peeper visits the giraffes at the Brookfield Zoo in Illinois during Christmas.

Luckily, we have a membership, but we just don’t have the time to trot over to see the animals every. single. day. So Peeper gets her zoo fix on my lap in the rocking chair during storytime (which, in our home, is pretty much all the time).

Here, then, are our favorite children’s books about the zoo. Read more →

Sound effects and belly laughs: Remembering Car Talk’s Tom Magliozzi

November 5, 2014catherinemryan

Saturday mornings when I was growing up, 10am was a sacred time in our house. Every week, my dad turned the radio to our local public radio station. And on the hour, our home—or, if we were out and about, the Shempmobile (my dad’s peeling paint minivan)—was filled with the boisterous belly laughs of Click and Clack, the brothers behind the call-in show Car Talk.

I didn’t know anything about carburetors or timing belts or spark plugs (and, ah, still don’t). But the hosts’ mischievous sense of fun and the joy they so clearly found in the show was contagious. I found myself giggling along with Click and Clack as they helped (and poked fun at) the drivers trying to figure out what was wrong with their rides.

My favorite parts, of course, were when the brothers asked callers to mimic the noise their car was making. Their attempts to replicate the kathunk-crunch or wheeeeewheeeewheee or pathudpathud sound effects cracked me up every time.

Better yet was the way Click and Clack’s commentary made my dad laugh. An especially hilarious moment would leave him with tears streaming into his beard; once or twice a show, he’d end up in a coughing fit from laughing so hard.

Tom Magliozzi, the elder of the brothers, died on Monday. He had been suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, but an interview I heard yesterday with Car Talk’s executive producer said that he still laughed at jokes, even near the end.

NPR has been rerunning old shows for a while now, and I imagine they’ll continue to do so despite Tom’s death. But this week, I’ll miss his unapologetic passion for cars and helping people. He and his brother, Ray, brightened my childhood.

In his honor, I’ll be making car sound effects as I vrroooom around town. Rest well, Tom.

Motherhood this week

October 15, 2014catherinemryan

“I should remember this.”

The thought strikes me every day as Peeper does something funny or sweet or ridiculous, yet I don’t keep a baby book and I haven’t updated my Peeper journal for months. I’m afraid all the tiny moments will slip into oblivion while I mark only the big ones.

Here, then, are a few glimpses into our everyday lives. These won’t make the front page headlines, but I think they’re worth recording.

Friends with Freddy. Our downstairs neighbors decorated for Halloween, draping the bear statues with fake spiderwebs and hanging spooky critters. They also put up a lifesize paper cutout of a Freddy Krueger lookalike, which bares its sharp teeth at us as we walk toward our door.

Whenever we walk past, Peeper says “Hi!” to Freddy in her cheeriest voice.

“You’ll know to worry if she starts saying ‘hi’ to her closet,” my brother said.

Pumped up at the park. Yesterday Peeper was a beast on the playground. She was struggling to get up the first big step on the play structure but didn’t ask for help (“hep!”), so I didn’t intervene. She kicked her leg up to shoulder height and somehow pulled herself onto the step.

She was too busy moving on to the next one to celebrate or even recognize her accomplishment.

She climbed up and down the rest of our time there but by the end, she was clearly getting tired. Instead of giving up, though, she’d grunt and yell with the effort of dragging her little body onto the first step. She reminded me of a bodybuilder or Maria Sharipova. Peeper’s a beast!

Toddler irony. Peeper recently discovered my underwear drawer. She opens my nightstand, drapes my bras around her neck and tosses my undies over her shoulder.

I figured that since she was happy and occupied, I’d change her diaper while she played there. When I came back with a clean dipes, I realized she had pooped—on my lingerie.

Well, I guess that’s kind of what it’s for.

The kicker: She’s done this twice in the last week. That’ll teach me.

Family plans. Verizon and AT&T got nothin’ on Annie’s. Peeper has been using anything and everything—a box of mac n’ cheese, a cup of crayons, the remote control, a package of oatmeal—to call her grandma.

“Nana, Nana,” she says while cradling the object near her ear.

We’ll see if messaging and data rates apply.

How did you record your kids’ everyday antics?

15 months

October 13, 2014catherinemryan

The world is a wacky place, and at 15 months old, Peeper is really starting to grapple with it.

First off, it’s confusing. I’m always feeding Peeper mushrooms and berries at home, but when she tries to eat them when we’re on walks outside, I freak out. What gives? And she throws dirty diapers in the pail, but I take out the toys, magazines and my hairbrush that she oh so helpfully tosses in, too. All these arbitrary rules are hard to follow.

Secondly, it’s scary. Nana got Peeper a book that makes animal noises when you open the flaps, and my bug started crying at the first electronic “moo.” She ran away—and came right back. She seemed to be torn between fear of and fascination with it. I had to cut her off when she started whimpering when we looked at animals in other books.

She’s also pretty intimidated by other kids. When we recently got together with the One Weekers—a group of baby friends born within a seven days of each other—Peeper was a bit out of sorts. The other toddlers just had to look at her sideways to set her off. She required a lot of cuddling when the other kids ran around and fought over blocks.

Yet Peeper is also overcoming her fears—at least, in one case, with the help of noise-muffling headphones. We went to a Timbers game knowing we might have to bail early, considering Peeper is terrified of loud noises. But once she got used to the cushy headphones covering her ears, she didn’t mind the soccer match. I spent most of it chasing her around the restaurant, but I counted it as a huge win.

Toddler philosophy II

October 1, 2014catherinemryan

Channeling Teddy Roosevelt: “Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

Flower, pretty flower

August 12, 2014catherinemryan

Flowers are probably in Peeper’s top ten favorite things, ranking below milk and baths but above pizza. Whenever she sees flowers, she makes a sniffing noise and squirms to get closer.

They feature in her play, too. When we have bouquets in the house, I periodically give her a flower or two.

She carries them around and offers them to everyone, making a sniff, sniff noise.

Inevitably, though, she finishes by pulling off all the petals. I imagine her reciting, “She loves me, she loves me not” as she plucks them.

Peeper, the answer is yes, no matter whom you’re picking petals for. How could anyone fail to love you?

Our favorite children’s books: Interactive edition

July 23, 2014catherinemryan

Now that Peeper has added “book” to her repertoire of signs, she asks for one almost as much as she requests milk. And that’s a lot.

We spend a huge portion of play time reading. She has very strong opinions about which story she wants, using her pointing finger to indicate one on the floor—or trying to squirm out of my arms and leap to one on the end table.

Lately, she loves books that do something. If it has flaps, windows, cut-outs, silky fur—or even better, all of the above—she will probably love it.

That means we end up reading some of the same titles a million times in a row. (I’m looking at you, Dog.) I don’t mind, though. Watching her delight in a story gives me all the patience I need. And now that she concentrates hard enough to tug a pull tab and make a piece on the page move, story time is even better.

Here are our favorite interactive children’s books.

Cat, by Matthew Van Fleet. We just gave this to Peeper for her first birthday. As it was created by the same folks behind the runaway hit Dog, I knew it’d be a blast. Proof: Peeper has already torn several pieces, meaning she’s really into it. It includes humor adults will appreciate, too: When a feline tips over a vase, it’s a catastrophe, naturally!

The Robot Book, by Heather Brown. In this charming book, kids get to play with all the parts and pieces of a robot: They can twist a bolt and swing the robot’s arm, for example. I was impressed by how intricate it is: You turn a gear to rotate the robot’s mouth. I like to play with it as least as much as Peeper does.

Count 123. Peeper loves the simple knockout photos, which we practice naming. She also likes lifting the flaps and tracing the numbers, which are recessed into the page. She’s still too little to count, but this would be a terrific book for children learning their numbers. It was a sad day when we had to return this to the library.

Chomp Zoo, by Heather Brown. Ingeniously designed, the same pull tab makes the teeth of a half-dozen animals chomp up and down. Peeper loves moving the teeth and sticking her fingers in the mouths of the creatures. I also love how friendly the animals look. They seem to be barely containing their laughter.

Where’s Spot? by Eric Hill. I remember the many adventures of Spot from when I was little, and I’d go straight for these books whenever we visited the library. I’m so glad Peeper likes the tan doggy, too! She grins every time I say, “Peekaboo!” when she lifts a flap to find not a hiding Spot but another creature. (A snake in the clock and a lion under the stairs—it’s quite the menagerie in this house.)

On My Leaf, by Sara Gillingham. This book combines cut-out windows and a finger puppet in a sweet story about a ladybug and her family. Peeper grabs the soft felt ladybug and sticks her hands through the windows as she turns the page. There’s an entire series like it that features an owl in a tree, a dolphin in the ocean, a monkey in the jungle and more.

What are your favorite books for curious little ones?