It's a rainy Ithaca morning, a day for puttering, reading the newspaper and drinking too much coffee. The Ithaca Festival is this weekend; perhaps we'll go later and try to catch another performance of Hilby the Skinny German Juggle Boy. But for now we are just lazing about the house. Or at least I am lazing. This is what my children are doing:

9:30 am: Biggie has cut a long, long piece of yarn and has tied it around the front doorknob. She is making a coyote catcher. The Wee One is screaming and hitting her for no apparent reason. Time out.

9:45: Biggie is tying knots in the string. The Wee One is climbing up on the counter to the water thermos and spilling ice water on the floor. Clean up.

9:55: Biggie is tying knots in the string. The Wee One is "helping" the Husband paint a column in my office blue. She starts painting the white trim and has a tantrum when I take her away. Time out.

10:10: Biggie is tying knots in the string, which is now a decoration for the year-end party at school. The Wee One is letting the dog out so he can poop and trying to clean it up herself. Then she wants to pee out there "like a doggie."

10:15: Biggie is lying on the floor, tying knots in the string. In the two minutes that I was upstairs inspecting the Husband's paint job, the Wee One has opened a box of rice mix, poured it on the floor, and is trying to clean it up with a wet rag. When I take over, she goes into the living room where the Biggie is knotting, and hits her. Time out.

10:25: Biggie is taking a break from the knotted string, which is now four feet long and "a world record." The Wee One pauses to fight with her over Cheez-It. She pours the leftover crumbs on the freshly vacuumed rug. No time outs this time, but I do start shouting. Grrrr.

When we took the Wee One to a pulmonary specialist this week, he said that her asthma could be limiting her growth and energy levels. While we waited forty-five minutes for the doctor to show up, she climbed up and down off the examining table approximately twenty times, ran up and down the hall proclaiming "I am Superman!" and washed her hands more times than I could count. She is indeed small for her age, but I'm wondering, what exactly will happen if we get her asthma under control? How much more energy can she actually produce, and can we in some way harness it for our personal use? I'm thinking jet packs.