Nobody Knows Anything

Welcome to Diane Patterson's eclectic blog about what strikes her fancy

Doctor Who vs. the Blood Elves

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The kids’ obsession recently has been World of Warcraft, to the point where they were continuously fighting over who got to play. “You played last! It’s my turn!” “No, you played! It’s mine!” (This is how they play: they start a character, do all the intro quests, lose interest, start another character. Sophia has shown great fortitude in getting a character all the way to level 15.) So, finally I came up with this rule: Sophia was born on an even day, so she plays on even days; Simon was born on an odd day, so he plays on odd days; only Mommy gets to play on the 31st.

And this plan, almost unbelievably, seemed to work out just fine.

My current obsession has been Doctor Who. The third season has been playing here, and I love it so much that, while I can pass on watching anything until a few days have gone by, Friday night I am right there in front of the TV. (Albeit, after it’s TiVo’d—can’t stand commercials.) I have recently become so into it I a)joined NetFlix (nope, hadn’t been a member before) and b)queued the first two seasons to watch at home. I’d never seen any of the Christopher Eccleston ones, and we missed about half of season two.

The day my first NetFlix movies arrived Sophia had a friend over, and they were off playing in her room, while Simon stayed with me. He, of course, wanted to play World of Warcraft, but it wasn’t his day. So I said, “Hey, wanna watch Doctor Who with me?” We snuggled on the couch and I put the first disc in. And it was hilarious—FTW: “If you’re a space alien, how come you sound like you’re from the North?” “Lots of planets have a North!” (Eccleston has a northern British accent you could cut with a chain saw). Simon thought it was the greatest thing ever.

The next day Simon said, “Can we watch another one?” and Sophia said, “Another what?” So she sat down to watch the Doctor and Rose get into various messes.

The day after that, when I got home with the kids, the first thing they asked was, “Can we watch another Doctor Who?” No one mentioned World of Warcraft. It was somewhat blissful. Of course, now my DVDs have run out and I have to get the next set post-haste.

But when the Doctor’s in the house…no Warcraft! Yes!

And boy, are my arms tired

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I’ve spent most of what seems like the past several months but probably was just the past few days celebrating Sophia’s 7th birthday. (SEVEN? Is this fair? Is this true? Good lord!) We had the family party. We had the kids’ party. Today was the school’s party. All hail, Sophia! Seven!

(My God, the time goes fast.)

My birthday’s in August. I never had a party. Darin’s birthday is right before Christmas. He really never had a party.

Simon is tired of preschool. As in, we have a fight every day about going. Of course, when it comes time to get him at the end of the day, he doesn’t want to go home, he wants to stay and play. I’ve tried to explain that preschool is all about the playing and kindergarten (which he wants to go to NOW) is all about the school. He doesn’t believe this. Sophia has snack-recess AND lunch-recess, so clearly going to school is the best choice.

He has also taught himself to read.

We’d noticed he was picking up a few words here and there. For over a year his favorite word has been EXIT, because he could read it on signs everywhere. But lately the pace of acquisition has picked up, until finally he started reading his favorite Blue’s Clues book to me. And he isn’t reading from memorization either (he’s had several books completely memorized for a while now). Now I point to a word and he can either read it or begin to sound it out. When he hasn’t a clue he shakes his head until I help him out.

He isn’t quite so thrilled with reading that he’s doing it on his own, but he is clearly pleased with himself to have figured it out.

No wonder he wants to be in kindergarten NOW.

I still think he’s going to be surprised when it’s not all recess.

It has come to pass

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Before we had them, Darin opined that our kids’ main mode of communication would be “banter.” And lo:

Earlier this week, I left the kids with Darin so I could go to Playwriting class. I had left some stuff at home for him to make dinner, but rather than do that he took them out to dinner at a local restaurant. The next day, I asked Sophia how Daddy liked dinner.

“Oh, he had a blast,” she said. “By the way? That was sarcasm.”

Just like that.

(Apparently both kids acted up and were cranky and out of control rather than, you know, eating dinner. There is a reason that we don’t go out to dinner if we can’t be at a restaurant by 5:30.)

I am afeared.