Galileo

The temperature has dropped, like a body from a leaning tower*. On Friday morning it was warm and muggy and I was complaining about how going outside was like walking into a sock. A sock that had just been peeled off a very sweaty giant. By Friday before dinner, the kids were out on their bikes again and the humidity had blown away - it was still t-shirt weather, but delightfully fresher. On Saturday morning we were at the nursery school yard sale in our fleeces, and I couldn't pick over the clothes because my fingers had all gone bloodless. (I have Reynaud's. My fingers go numb and look like they belong to a corpse in record time. It's my party piece.)

Tomorrow, allegedly, it will get nicer again and maybe we'll have some actual autumn weather, because going straight from summer to winter is no fun and gives you very little playground time.

Another thing that I hope is short-lived is this new phase of Mabel's. The one where she shrieks a lot, and makes irrational demands, and won't take no for an answer. Mostly it's the shrieking that I object to, since the others are pretty much expected behaviour for a 2-3-year-old. Not exactly helped by her brother, who does things like this:

Scene: The car.
Monkey leaps into his seat and fumbles for the seatbelt. He's in a high-back booster and can click himself in very well. I'm usually a little slower putting Mabel in her seat and settling her five-point harness around whatever baby/t-rex/horsie she insisted on bringing.

Monkey: I won!
Mabel: No! I won!
Me, wearily: It's not a race.
Monkey: It's a race! I won! I'm happy! Mabel, you're sad because you didn't win.
Mabel: I'm not sad! I'm happy!
Me: Monkey, please don't tell her how she feels. That's not helping.
Monkey: You came second, and Mummy's going to come third and she's very angry.
Me: No, I don't care. I'm not angry about the race. Because there is no race.
Mabel (increasingly upset and agitated): I won! I'm happy! You're sad!
Monkey: No, I won! You're sad!
Me: Argghghhh.
Mabel: aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh
My eardrums: Kabloom.

Every damn time.

*Wherever I first read about Galileo and the Leaning Tower of Pisa, it referred to the speed of falling bodies. I assumed he had taken dead people and thrown them off the tower. It wasn't till much later that I discovered it just meant objects, so in my head there will always be visions of the great scientist hefting corpses over the parapet to measure how quickly they fell.