November 02, 2008

Quinn performed her first Google search the other day: "What is Pink's old name?"

She also told me, after my haircut, that I now look like Hillary Clinton.

Posted by Amy at 09:32 PM | Comments (0)


September 18, 2008
Tonight's conversation



"Can I ask Santa for an umbrella with my name on it?"

"Sure. What made you think of that?"

"I just thought it might be something that exists in the world, and I'd try to ask for it."

"Oh. Yes. OK."

Posted by Amy at 08:18 PM | Comments (0)


May 01, 2008
Quinn talks about fire

Lately, Quinn has been very interested in natural disasters. Earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunami, tornadoes, you name it, if the Earth kills someone, she wants to know about it.

The other day, she asked "Do other planets have tornadoes?" I thought about it and said "Well, a tornado is just part of a storm, and some planets have storms, and some don't. For instance, Jupiter's surface is basically all storms, and Venus has many storms. But Mars doesn't have any atmosphere, and neither does the Moon, so they can't have storms."

So I extended my bit of science teaching. "You also can't have fire on the moon. Fire has to have heat, fuel and air. If there's no air, there's no fire." She said, thoughtfully, "No S'mores on the moon!"

Posted by Andy at 09:56 AM | Comments (0)


December 16, 2007

The other night I was watching the 5:00 local news when there was a story about the Michael Vick sentencing. Quinn wandered over, watched the footage for a few minutes, and said, "Is this about the first Christmas?"

Posted by Amy at 02:02 PM | Comments (0)


December 13, 2007

Does anyone read this anymore?

Is it broken?

Do we need to write more?

Posted by Amy at 10:36 PM | Comments (12)


November 14, 2007
More chats with Dad and Quinn

I tried to convince Quinn to come to my Perl Mongers meeting:

"Quinn, you should come to my computer meeting tonight! We're going to talk about computers!"
"Dad, that's BOR-ing"
"But we're also going to play with Barbies. And ponies."
"For troof?"
"Dad, you're the fibber."
"Would I ever fib to fool you?"
"OK, but only once."
"No, Dad. A hundred million fousand fifty-nine times!"

That sounds about right, come to think of it.

Posted by Andy at 12:13 AM | Comments (0)


October 17, 2007

"I'm ready for bed, Mom," Quinn said, walking into my bedroom where I was reading and waiting for her to have her Starfall fix for the evening.

"Come here, sweetie," I said to her, setting my book aside and fluffing the pillows next to me. "I want to tell you something."

She settled into my bed with me, flopping around only minimally, and let me hug her close.

"When you were born," I said, "it was the happiest day in my whole life. The best day I'd ever had."

"Mo-om, I know that," she said, rolling away from me, impatient with a story she's heard a thousand times.

"But Quinn, wait," I said. "There's more." She knelt next to me, uncharacteristically attentive.

"You have changed my whole life," I told her. "You've made everything brighter, and shinier, and more interesting and important. I am a better person since I've become your mommy, and it's all because of you. I think you're the most interesting, most funny, most loving person I've ever known, and I'm so proud...every day I'm so proud to be your Mommy."

Quinn looked at me, and it was one of those moments where you really feel like you're connecting with someone, that they are really understanding exactly what you're saying, and what you're trying to say but can't find the words for.

"I know it's been hard for you since I've been back to school being a teacher," I said, and her eyes welled up with tears. "I know that I haven't been able to take you to school anymore, and I haven't been able to visit your classroom, and that you've had to go to afterschool until I come to get you. And I know that I've been tired and busy for a lot of time on the weekends. But you are doing great, sweetie, and I am proud of you for that, too." She rubbed the tears out of her eyes, but didn't say anything. She looked tired.

"But you know what, sweetie?" I said. "Even though I'm a teacher again, the most important job I have is still being your mommy. That will always be my most important, best, luckiest job in the whole world."

"If you have to cry, Mommy, you can," she told me. "Because I think you're making me sad."

Happy birthday, Quinn. You are the best bunny I could have ever wished for.

Posted by Amy at 10:45 PM | Comments (2)


October 15, 2007
Just the facts

Quinn and I went to Spring Hill Mall on Sunday, while Amy was doing planning for school. I saw that there was a White Castle under construction.

Dad: "Quinn! Look! They're building a White Castle!"
Quinn: "BLECH! Dad, they are STINKY!"
D: "No way, White Castle is the BEST!"
Q: "Dad.... (thinking).... What's that fing where it's a fing that someone finks?"
D: "An opinion?"
Q: "Yeah! Dad, that's your o-PIN-ion!"

She makes me laugh.

Posted by Andy at 01:50 PM | Comments (0)


July 21, 2007
Too much?

Quinn and I were playing with her dollhouse a little while ago. She instructed me to be the "big sister," so I started talking for her in my best teenage-Valley Girlish-accent: "Mom, GAWD, can I PLEASE go watch TV upstairs? Playing with my baby sister is LAME!"

Quinn halted the game to instruct me: "Mom, don't talk like that for her. She's not Irish!"

Posted by Amy at 07:34 PM | Comments (1)


July 04, 2007

Quinn and I just got back from a trip to Raleigh, North Carolina to see my friend (and college roommate) Anne and her husband Eric. This is our third year making this pilgrimage, and this time Colleen and her daughter Baylee joined us. Quinn was overjoyed to have an older girl along to play with.

Excited at the airport! EXCITED!


We went to some nature museum, I can't remember what it's called, oh my memory, it is gone. But Quinn got to see what a turtle colony living beneath the sand looks like. For some reason this kind of grossed me out.


The childrens' room rocks. There are a ton of hands-on activities and things to touch. For example, you can stick your hand in this sock-covered can and guess what's inside. A bone? A starfish? Boogers from the kid before you? You never can tell!



After the museum we walked around downtown Raleigh some, and Anne was kind enough to give Quinn a lift.


But really, the trip was about Anne, Colleen and I chattering non-stop and Quinn and Baylee bonding. It was an estrogenfest, and it was fun. Thanks, Anner!



Posted by Amy at 11:09 PM | Comments (2)


Dance recital

I swear I'm almost all caught up on pictures. These are from her dance recital in May.

The best part of college was getting ready to go out.


That was Quinn getting ready for her recital...not listening to the BoDeans at ear-piercing volume, but rather Barbie Fairytopia or some crap.

Not quite the same. (Also, less beer.)

This next picture is rather Buzz Lightyear-ish.


Wearing makeup. She wanted to do her own.


"Where's my lipstick?"

"How do you know about lipstick??"


What I the Crocs with the costume.

Every girl there had Crocs on. They are an epidemic.



Posted by Amy at 10:03 PM | Comments (2)


Flickr pictures

I posted these on Flickr awhile ago, but never really posted about it. Since not everyone has an account with Flickr, I'm putting them here too. For posterity. Or something.

Quinn and I had a Spa Night, where we did each other's hair and nails. Oh Lord, why did I do it? Will I ever hear the end of the requests to duplicate this night? Will I???


Seriously. Happy Bunny!


She wanted multi-colored nails, and disapproved of my array of shades that ran the gamut from pink to red. "Sorry," I told her. "1984 ended a long time ago."



Nothing makes Quinn more excited than the idea of setting up a bed...for herself, for her dolls, for her Pollys, for you, for me...


Was I kidding?


A typical set-up before Quinn commits to bed for the night.


Not only is Quinn good at picking her own clothes, she's also good at hitting balls with her dad.




We got her a bike, which she can ride for about 20 feet before losing interest.


All she cares about is if Baxter is out, and if someone is watching him to make sure he doesn't run into the street, get hit by a car, and die. Even if he's on his chain, she's obsessed until we go inside.

It's hard to ride a bike like this.


Posted by Amy at 09:47 PM | Comments (0)


July 03, 2007
Last day of school

I felt it necessary to document Quinn's last day of school. Next year will technically be her kindergarten year, but since she's at a Montessori school, it will be her third year in the 3-6 year old classroom. They don't have traditional grades. Also, no (or very little) homework. Yay, Montessori!

"MOVVER, you don't have to help me with my SHOES...I'm not a BABY."



Much to the horror of my sisters, Quinn wants to pick her own clothes...and I let her! (Very Montessori, you know.)


Hi, I like my picture taken.


With one of her teachers, Ms. Cheryl. Quinn loves her so much. It must be mutual because Quinn has already received a letter from her, telling Quinn how much she misses her.


Honestly, this school is worth every penny. Quinn is just flourishing. She loves school, she loves learning...what more could we ask for?

Posted by Amy at 10:24 PM | Comments (0)



This is what I found when I came out of the bathroom after my shower the other morning:

I organized Quinn's artwork from this past school year, put the dates on each piece, binder clipped them together, and added them to her portfolio that I keep in my office closet. This is what was left behind.

I know. I KNOW. She would seriously crap in her Gymboree underwear if she saw that I threw all of this away. But the girl has OUTPUT...she is prolific, and we have no room for each of her masterpieces. We just don't.

So stop looking at me that way.

Posted by Amy at 09:50 PM | Comments (0)


June 21, 2007
Quinn the cleaner

I was sitting at my desk here when Quinn slunk in with something behind her back. She edged over to the shelf and plunked down the can of Pledge that had been there.

"What did you do with that?" I asked her.

"I cleaned your toilet!" she said. "Come see!!!"

I followed her into the bathroom and she held her hands out, Vanna-style, to the toilet.

"Now it doesn't have that yellow line on it!" she proclaimed.

"What yellow line?" I asked.

"There!" She indicated the base of the toilet. I have no idea what she was referring to, but...ew?

"Wow, sweetie, that's great!" I told her, stepping towards the toilet to inspect and immediately slipping on the Pledge slick that was now covering the entire bathroom floor.

It's shiny, though.

Posted by Amy at 10:32 AM | Comments (2)



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