storm season

Here in the middle west, storm season is approaching. Not that, frankly, it ever isn’t storm season in the middle. We just change the type of storms we are referring to. The approaching storm season I am referring to on this fine, cold afternoon is tornado season.


I can tell you I never, ever, in a million billion zillion years thought I would look forward to tornado season, but here we are. This crappy winter has me questioning my very essence.

Perhaps when my brain defrosts I will have other thoughts.

So when The Kidling mentioned tornadoes the other day and suggested that we don’t need to worry about tornadoes here in the middle, I told her that, in fact, we do. Truth be told, the spring after The Kidling was born was a particularly tornado-y one.

No, tornado-y is not a word.

No, I do not care.

I told The Kidling that we had many, many tornado watches and warnings when she was an infant.*  In this basement-less home,** The Dada and I spent a lot of time in the only room on the first floor of the house that didn’t have windows: the world’s tiniest bathroom. We hustled down there with blankets and toys on myriad occasions to wait out the weather.



But when I relayed this story to The Kidling, she was delighted. Before I had a chance to wonder why, she exclaimed, “Thanks for keeping me alive!”

Kidling, it was the least we could do.


* Does anyone actually know which is worse? Like, consistently know? Don’t bother saying yes, because I won’t believe you.
** No, basement-less isn’t a word either. And I still don’t care.


take this winter and shove it

“I really don’t like this winter. It’s the coldest winter I had this year.”


on climate

On numerous occasions over the course of the summer, Alice and The Dada talked about our unseasonably dry weather. Alice being the thoughtful kidling she is and The Dada being the well-informed dad he is, they had some detailed conversations. You see, The Dada is the one responsible for Alice telling her daycare teachers about the floods in Japan. I, well… I’m just glad he was the one on the receiving end of these inquisitions.

Until Saturday. On Saturday Alice asked me about our summer weather.

Alice: Why did we have a drought this summer?

The Mama: I don’t really know, Alice.

Alice: Maybe because Europe got the water and we didn’t!

Something like that.


Another gorgeous September Iowa day, another dinner enjoyed out-of-doors. This time, our backyard was the venue and the fare, though tasty, didn’t hold a candle to the one consumed Wednesday.

Now typically Alice shows her appreciation of a beautiful day by mirroring what she has seen The Mama do time and time again. Expected, right? That’s what children do, right? Well, of course, but it is particularly adorable when said child:

  1. Speaks in a scratchy contralto;
  2. (and a borderline speech impediment);
  3. Sighs appropriately; and
  4. Is Alice.

In other words, when we step outside on a beautiful day, The Kidling can often be heard saying, (sigh) What a lovely day!” or (sigh) It’s so nice to be outside on such a goooorgeous day!” or “Let’s eat outside!” So though she may not be one for sharing, she does do gratitude well. And, you know, everything else.

Just saying.

So where was I? Oh, yes, a beautiful evening in Iowa. The Kidling suggested eating outdoors, and The Parents willingly obliged. Whist eating our dinner, Alice spotted an airplane overhead (as opposed to underfoot? I could probably save my readers a lot of hassle if I didn’t feel the need to state the obvious and use excessive quantities of adjectives, adverbs, and qualifiers). Following the plane and its contrails with her little kidling eyes, Alice observed, “Look! It’s heading for your hair salon!”

Of course it is, dear. That entire airplane full of folks is in dire need of haircuts, pinch braids, and dreadlocks.

a solution

Wednesday was a beautiful day. The Family made an impromptu decision to dine al fresco at a yummy little pizza joint in downtown Our Town. Great food, gorgeous weather, my amazing family… life is good.

Or it was. Until the flying insect came to visit.

You see, The Parents have no real trouble ignoring such distractions, but The Kidling gets pretty worked up. Shooing and gesticulating wildly, Alice tried and tried to rid our table of the pest, to no avail.

The winged wonder was not giving up without a bite of her salsiccia.

Finally, she had had enough. Frustration mounting, The Kidling proclaimed, “Shoo! Go away and. Don’t come back until. 100 years have passed! (turns to The Parents) Let’s see if that works. If it doesn’t, next time I’ll speak it in bee talk.”

Too bad it worked. I would have delighted in hearing the bee talk translation.

on rain

“Rain is clouds’ pee!”

-Alice Munchkin Kidling

May 14, 2012