"Are We There Yet?" Meets "Why?"

Over the weekend Charlotte came to the mind-blowing realization that every street has its own name.  And the last two trips in the car have not been the same since.  For over a year now she has known River Road by name because, well, it's pretty damn distinctive.  It runs along the Mississippi River, is dotted with runners, bikers, and has bridges and a train trestle.  She also knows the Lake Street Bridge, the Ford Bridge, and the Franklin Avenue Bridge by name.

But then yesterday (Saturday), as part of some random conversation with her, I told her we were on 42nd street and would take a left on Nicollet.  And at that moment she put two and two together and you could almost hear the wheels churning in her head as if to tell her "Wait a second, River Road isn't the ONLY road with a name. Holy %#^@%$!! They all have names!!!!!"

Ooops.  I unleashed a monster.

Charlotte now knows each road has a new name just like each person has a name she wants to learn.  Now every time I make a turn she asks, "What street is this one called?"  And God love and her sincerity, she truly wants to know.  Unfortunately in Longfellow, as almost everyone reading this knows, the streets (going east to west) are all in the high 20s to mid 40s and the avenues (north-south) share the same range.  So really my answers are typically pretty boring and just a lesson in random numbers between 25 and 46.  But she carries on and asks with each turn.

Or she will just ask, "Is this 46th Avenue?"  I do not know why 46th Avenue is her favorite.  It is a main Longfellow thoroughfare but otherwise fairly unremarkable... unless you're Charlotte.

Battle of the Bands: How to Raise a Texasotan

Every morning Charlotte asks to hear music on the way to Montessori.  Specifically she asks to hear James McMurtry.  If the radio is on Charlotte will say, "I don't want to hear Mommy's music.  I want to hear Daddy's music.  I want to hear James McMurtry."  Truth be told, I would love to move on from these CDs but I am always going to indulge Charlotte in this context.

And then she will ask what every song is about which is illuminating in that pretty much every song that dude sings is tinged with some cocktail of unrest, depression, and emptiness.  Welcome to life Charlotte.

But Charlotte is getting a healthy dose of Music Appreciation 101 from Emily as well.  Friday night Charlotte was dancing to Prince on Emily's iPod.  Later that evening right around bedtime, Charlotte told me out of the blue, "I like Prince.  He makes me happy."  The ying to the erudite Mr. McMurtry's yang.

And then at dinner tonight we had The Current local show playing in the background and some upbeat song with a distinct Minneapolis sound/beat was going on and Charlotte lit up and said, "This is Prince!"  It wasn't, but she picked up on the familiar bass line and well, what can I say, she is going to be a Minneapolis girl through and through.

And this is a good thing.

Overheard Exhibit P

The first thing Charlotte said today, to Emily, right after Charlotte woke up:

Someone pooped in my diaper. It might have been me.

Happy Faces

Conversation With Charlotte #12

Today Charlotte was making dinner with me.  My back was turned and I heard the sound of about ten different things crashing to the floor.

Me: What was that, honey?

Charlotte: A noise.... and then another noise.

Like I have said before, she is nothing if not honest.

Happy is Happy

I have probably worked over a thousand kids over the years (yikes, I'm getting old) and if I have learned one thing, it is be careful with nicknaming or naming your kid something like, I don't know, Happy.  More often than not, the opposite occurs.  So I am waiting for the curse to kick in.  Meanwhile, we'll sit back and enjoy the ride.

Planning Ahead

I was wearing a running shirt as I put Charlotte to bed.  When I turned out her light she said, "I want to go running with Daddy on the Mississippi River when the snow melts down."

I can't wait.  Mostly because the snow will be melted.