Six-year-olds and Santa

Six is a magical year for Christmas. Reindeer on the roof, sleighs that fly around the world, jolly men who vaporize into your house looking for cookies, not to mention the sack full of presents! This is the stuff of six-year-old fantasies. Even cookie baking is a grand adventure, for you never know when the gingerbread men are going to make their move and come bursting from the oven. Luckily they only bake for 8 minutes, which isn't too long to have a sentry stationed at the oven door. And even that, it seems, isn't enough. One minute our gingerbread cookies were cooling on the rack, and the next they were arranged on a plate on the table. How this could have happened, we may never know. The fact that I was holding a spatula just seconds after the miracle occurred doesn't diminish the mystery one bit. This miracle on Wagner Street has led to some interesting bedtime ponderings: if the gingerbread men hadn't been decorated with eyes yet, how did they see where they were going? Did they prop each other up to get on the table? Do gingerbread men have knees?? O ye of little faith ...

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Lucie and the Problem of Evil

Lucie has suddenly started questioning things. And by things, I mean eternal things. It all started when she asked if I would read her a bedtime story from the Bible storybook. The book opens innocently enough with the story of creation. There are lions and tigers and bears, and naked people being created from dust. (At this point in the story you’d think questions would arise, but no, kids just seem to go along with it at face value. Which is exactly the reason I've had to work so hard to convince Lucie that turtleneck shirts are not actually made from the necks of turtles.) Anyways ... "Do you know why Adam and Eve are sad?" I asked, pointing at the picture of them sorrowfully leaving the garden. "I sure do, " Lucie assured me. "They are sad because they don't have any parents." Impressive, huh? Clearly, she’d been processing and following along. "Well there is that," I prodded her, "and also they have to leave the ...

I Scream, You Scream

My mom and dad risked shame and flogging by wrapping up a kitchen appliance for my birthday. My mom, knowing how I feel about presents that plug-in, questioned Rob twice: "Are you sure that's what she wants?" But I did want it very much, and I'm not ashamed to say it: I'm in love with an ice cream maker. July is National Ice Cream month, and my family is doing our part to celebrate. We've sampled and modified a number of homemade ice cream experiments, and have narrowed it down to two recipes that everyone loves. Think of this post as a Wagner Family Ice Cream Cookbook. The competition is by no means closed. July is a long, hot month and we are always willing to whip up another batch. Submit your favorite homemade ice cream recipe in the comments section below. (Particularly if you've got one that tastes like Haagen Dazs Coffee, hint hint.) Happy freezing! And remember: there is almost nothing that ice cream can't fix. COPYCAT PINKB...

Say This!

Picture by Grayson (our 9 year-old) Last week we reached another one of those parenting milestones. At 27+ months of age, Violet said her first real words: "Mama! Me go!" Three little words so beautiful, so stunning and unexpected, they stopped me in my tracks. Even the other kids dropped their activities and ran out to verify that, yes, Violet had spoken. We hugged and touch-down-danced and, of course, Violet got to "go." When you have a child who is the tiniest bit developmentally delayed, small accomplishments are met with big celebration. Lucie insists on accompanying me on simple errands? I need to figure out a way to sneak out the door more efficiently; Violet suddenly says that she wants to go? Hot dog! Get the video camera and your shoes on kiddo! Therapists have been coming to the house since the first week of January, evaluating Violet's delays. At her last check in, she had about 15 simple words in her vocabulary -- about 100 words u...

Montecito Mama

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