Cinderella has arrived in our household. She all gold, and lives in a glass house. She also has a lovely plant and clear glass marbles at the bottom, and she seems to enjoy her new home. Ava is about as thrilled as she could possibly be to have been given the responsibility of caring for her new pet.
We went to Plattsburgh (1.5 hrs away) today, to get some gardening supplies and some food items not available in the sticks, and I asked Ava if she thought she was old enough to take care of a fish. YES! CAN WE GO TO THE PET STORE??? NOW?? I explained that it had to be the last thing that we did n our trip, but yes, we could go get a goldfish. After tossing out some weak counter-arguments, she realized that if she was going to get a fish, she had better endure the prologue. So, off we went. The car ride was fine, and Carter fell asleep after 1 hour and 20 minutes, so I had to circle for a bit to ensure he really got a nap, and then we arrived at Lowe’s. Oh, Lowe’s. Ava may have been excited for the pet store, but Lowe’s has forklifts. A lot of them. Carter was in a state of bliss. And honestly, it was such a nice store to be in—no crazy bright plastic–electronic things screaming at you from all directions (life in the middle of nowhere does make one a bit like a deer in headlights upon emerging into the modern world), and it was filled with the promise of projects—big ones and little ones. And these days, my life revolves around projects. Any project as long as it educates, entertains and occupies. Then, off to Price Chopper, where both children had a “singing” contest, which was more like a screaming and stomping contest, and we got out of there as fast as we could, and oooooooohhhhhhh……the pet store. It started off spectacularly, because they had those “customer in training” mini-carts, putting even ore responsibility upon her shoulders, and then both kids were hysterical over the ferrets and assorted rodents that are always front and center. After a potty break, we wandered on over to the reptiles, and were laughing uncontrollably at some very animated lizards when Ava turned to me and said “mommy, do they have fish here?” It was almost as if she had refused to allow herself to believe It until she really had it in her hands. “Yes, let’s go see them” I said. So, we looked at all of them, the bettas, the regular goldfish, the fancy goldfish, the big goldfish, the little goldfish, and then I asked her which one she liked, and she pointed to the regular, small, gold, goldfish. Nothing fancy, just a wonderful, humble little goldfish. And so the sales associate scooped one up for her. And it was gold and white. Not gold. “Do you like this one, honey?” the sales associate asked. Ava gave an almost imperceptible nod. I did not believe her. I said “Ava, do you want this one, or one that is all gold?” And Ava said “this one.” I still did not believe her. I think she was afraid that if she said no, she would not get one at all. And so I asked the woman to get a second fish, all gold, and we asked Ava to pick. Gold. All gold. Thank god. OK. Now, marbles, food and a plant. Then I said “now, Ava. There is one more thing that you have to do. You have to name your fish. So, spend some time, and when you know, let me know.” She spent some time, and then said “I know! Cinderella!” And I said, Ava, that is a PERFECT name. Ava did not relinquish her little plastic double bagged treasure for the entire 90 minute care ride home. We set it up, Ava fed it, Carter longed for it, and now Cinderella has come to live in our castle.
Carter has upped the ante with his physicality—he now thinks it is pretty cool not only to get on the table—any table, but to stand on the seat of his scooter—without holding on to anything. And we have finally realized that it is not that he can’t talk. He just does not want to. I asked him to say something, a word that he has said in the past, and he just looked at me and scrunched his cheek to his shoulder, which is his way of saying “nah.”
But he has also managed to acquire some distinctly 2-year-old traits, most notably screaming in all-consuming anger when something does not go his way—it is the real deal, tears, and wailing and flinging himself upon me in desperation. It is very disconcerting because he is usually so easygoing. The days are very interesting around here.