1 Mother 2 Another

Cora’s doing very well right now
with the potty thing. Occasionally she’ll need to get up in
the night to potty, and it’s a big production: first she has
to find her bedside flashlight (to keep away monsters), then move
back her big body pillow (aka monster barrier), then come and tell
Mommy and Daddy, then go pee.


And that, you know, takes time. So when she went through all that
last night, the time taken was precious, and Cora ended up not
quite making it to the potty, instead peeing on the bath mat right
in front of the toilet.


This is not such a big deal – her accidents are pretty
infrequent now – but Brian, the parent who got up with her,
said it was actually quite cute. Apparently, as the pee ran
disappointingly down her leg, Cora looked at the mat and said,
“Well, shoot a pickle.”


Which is one of my parentally-censored “cuss phrases” I
say around the kids.


So if you hear a three-year-old saying “Dag-nabit” or
“Jumpin’ Jehosaphat”, you’ll know she (and
the phrase) are mine.


Could be worse, right?

One of the things I teach is Pilates, an
exercise form that I teach one-on-one. I train primarily dancers
looking to advance in their career, or pre-professional dancers
trying to get ready for the professional world. Maddie and Cora
know some of these dancers, as I take the girls to see the ballet
shows when I can – partly just to check up on my dancers and
see how they’re progressing.


Sometimes, too, I have to take one or both of the girls with me
while I teach. It’s not ideal, especially with Cora; both
girls are inquisitive and want nothing more than to play around on
the expensive and dangerous equipment while I devote my full
concentration to my client. But sometimes childcare just
doesn’t work out perfectly and so they come along.

Maddie’s been going through a rough
patch recently – in some ways, over the past week or so; and
in some ways, over the past few months or so. We’ve been
working through it together, and I can tell you, it hasn’t
been easy – almost too hard for me to even talk about as we
were in the throes.


She’s been wrestling with some real demons – her
worries and fears; her introvertedness being challenged at every
turn in school – and I’ve ached to see my child go
through all this. But for the past couple of days I’ve seen
something that makes me think she’s turned a corner –


I’ve seen her smile.

So I posted a couple days ago that Cora
had given her dollhouse to a little girl who’d been living on
the streets, then in a shelter, and had just recently moved into
her first apartment. Cora was thrilled to do so, and the case
worker passing it on assured Cora that the little girl would be
thrilled to have it – at two years old, the girl would be
getting her first toy.


Then yesterday I got an email from the caseworker. She’d
received a letter from the little girl’s mommy and wanted to
pass it on to us. It said, “Thanks for thinking of my
daughter for that dollhouse. She just loves it. Thanks. I just wish
I could tell the little girl who gave it to my Cookie how much it
means to her. I shouldn’t have shown it to her in the evening
– I couldn’t get her to go to bed! Thanks. And I
thought you might like to see some pictures.”

I mentioned recently that Cora’s
quite taken with her new game, Make-Up Stand, where she pretends to
be a makeup artist and will “do” your make-up for you
with real brushes and pretend powders.


I’ve grown tired of playing the game eight (8!) times a day:
the game becomes more elaborate each time, and now has to start
with me at “home” getting my purse and telling my mom
I’m going to get make-up, then “shopping” along
the walls, spying the store, unlocking it with the Sparkle Key, and
asking Cora, who has her back to me, “Excuse me – can
you please do my make-up for me?” at which point she spins
around on her stool with a smile and says, “Sure,
honey.”


And then we start all the make-up stuff.

Cora and I have recently started spending
some time at our local shelter doing storytime with toddlers and
preschoolers, and it’s certainly made Cora aware of the
bigger picture around us. When we took a peek into the new
“family” rooms in December, we saw the single room with
two sets of bunkbeds, a tiny closet, and one small shower bathroom
for a whole family. Cora thought it really cool – until she
found out it was for the WHOLE FAMILY.


Her eyes have been opened, and I know that she sees things
differently now. I mentioned last week’s upcoming trip back
to the shelter for another story time in a casual way, then changed
the subject and chatted, asking what Cora would like for lunch. She
was silent, and I asked lightly, “What are you
thinking?” and she replied, “About all the people at
the Inn who don’t get lunch when they don’t have a
home.”

Wednesday morning Cora and I went to the
grocery store, taking a quick potty break before heading out. After
arriving home, I was putting groceries away when I heard from the
downstairs bathroom, “Mommy, come look at this.”


I ran in, and Cora had not quite made it onto the potty. I
reassured her, got her cleaned up, and we went on with our day.

Maddie’s going through a tough time
right now – a sort of emotional growing pain, if you will.
And it’s been hard for me to stand back and let it happen,
when my instinct is to rush in and fix things. I know, though, that
this is something she has to work through on her own – some
lessons, I know well, can only be learned the hard way.

“Well, hell-O there!” the
Make-Up Lady says as I step through the door. “Are you
interested in trying some fresh make-up looks today? Free
application?”


No, I’m not at the department store. I’m at home,
walking into my house from dropping Maddie off at school, and Cora
(aka the Make-up Lady) has apparently opened for business again
today.

Yesterday was a school and work holiday in
our family, and Brian and I wanted to do something fun for the
girls. Maddie had been asking about going to see a movie for a
while, and we finally gave in and took the girls to a movie
theatre.


And yes, it’s true, neither girl had ever been to see a movie
before. I know, we practically raise them Amish.


We selected Yogi Bear for their big screen debut; Tangled had been
reported (by friends who know the girls well) as being too scary,
and I couldn’t find a single witch or scary wolf in the Yogi
commercials. We told the girls right before we headed out, and let
them dress “fancy” – which means both were
wearing their “rock star” outfits. Well, almost the
full outfits: I made Cora take off her sequined cape and her crown,
and Maddie had to remove her black sequined bowler hat. Otherwise,
though, they were sparkled out and we had a couple Liberaces
walking in to the theatre.


I realized I needed to treat them like aliens visiting for the
first time, and tried to explain everything in detail.

Yesterday morning I left my snug, warm
house to walk Maddie to school. The temperature outside was 20
degrees. I know it’s colder elsewhere, like Mount Everest,
but here in Texas that’s chilly. I was ready to shave a few
years off the life left in this planet and burn some fossil fuels
to drive Maddie to school in a nice warm car, but that kid loves
the near-mile walk and insisted we not drive so we bundled up and
headed out.


Anyway, I left a quiet house – Cora was still upstairs asleep
and my mom was dozing in her bed. When I got home, as I stripped
off my big down coat Cora came running down the stairs in a
gymnastics leotard – and nothing else. “Mommy!”
she said excitedly, as my mom followed blearily behind her.
“We’re going to Hawaii! Do you want to come with
us?”


Um, yes?

It seems both my girls are hitting
milestones these days: Cora with the potty training, and Maddie
– Maddie’s finally tying her own shoes. She’s
been working on it for a while, with increased success, but we can
finally call it. Maddie can do the whole thing – start to
finish – on her own on a regular basis.

I have this friend who works for an
excellent world-wide Christian relief agency. His title – I
kid you not – is Director of Peacebuilding. As in, his job
description reads “bring about world peace.” He lives
in India with his wife, a priest of a small Anglican church there.
Both are originally from Canada, and this is how they are living
out their callings –as global citizens making a difference.
And, by the way, raising their two blond-haired, blue-eyed children
there as well.


The other day, my friend Matt’s son wanted to know the names
of the wealthiest people. They counted down the Forbes Top 15,
noting those wealthy (like Buffet & Gates) who are giving away
their fortunes. They got to #10 before his son asked: "So what
number are we?"


Now, while my friends may live in relative luxury in India –
at least compared to many of the slums they see –
there’s no way by any stretch of the imagination you could
even call them upper-middle-class (sorry guys). But their kids look
around and see what’s possible – in a poverty way
– and consider themselves rich. As, indeed, they are. These
children have even been quoted as saying (at ages 4 and 6)
“We have so many toys and books. We don’t need any
more.”


I can guarantee you that those words have never come out of my
girls’ mouths.

Maddie’s school appoints a king or
queen every week – someone in her class who gets to spend the
week in the spotlight. The royal personage is the permanent line
leader, gets to be calendar helper, wears a crown all week, and
talks all about him or herself every day.


Need I tell you that Maddie has coveted this spot all year
long?

That’s right, folks, we are
officially a diaperless household. Well, at least we will be when
I’ve freecycled all the leftover diapers we’ve got
lying around. But officially there is not a single person under
this roof who uses diapers.


Yeah, we’re awesome.

So I learned yesterday through a very
circuitous but very accurate channel that Maddie has been the
subject of some teasing at school, for something very minor over
which she has absolutely no control. She has told me nothing, so I
must act as if I don’t know or she will feel like her
confidante has betrayed her, but I have been told that it has hurt
her rather deeply, and has occurred more than once.


There are two reasons I have not gone over to the offenders’
houses and kicked the shit out of them right now:


First, I don’t know who they are.


Second, though I would easily dominate any jail to which I was sent
by virtue of my natural charm and organization skills, my kids need
me. My husband would suck at picking out prom dresses.

Cora is now three and a half years old.
She has been pooping exclusively in the potty for about eight
months now. She is completely capable of peeing in the potty
– she clearly has the brains to understand it since she is,
as I told you yesterday, smarter than me.


She’s just lazy.

Last week, the four of us were sitting
around the dinner table while Maddie regaled us with a story about
a recent discussion with her friend Elise. Apparently Elise had
seen something and told Maddie all about it in front of
Elise’s mother, who then quickly stepped in and said,
“That’s not true. I know you think you saw it, but
it’s not true.” Maddie was enjoying leaving that part
out, and I reminded her that Elise had been told that her tale was
not true.


Maddie looked at me and said, “Elise told her mother she
agreed with her, but she doesn’t really. She knows more than
her mother does here.”

Since Sunday was the grand finale to our
two-week family “staycation”, in which Brian and Maddie
were both home the whole time, we agreed to give the girls some
quality one-on-one time with our respective number one fans. In
other words, Maddie had a huge stretch of time with Mommy while
Cora got Daddy all to herself.


We laid out the plan for the girls and threw wide the gates:
we’d go anywhere in the city, do anything they wanted. I
honestly thought Maddie would come up with a list similar to this:
lunch out; shoe shopping; go get her first manicure; that sort of
thing. I was wrong.

No one’s been sick –
I’ve just been hugely enjoying some family time over the past
week. Sorry.


But life’s about to kick back into regular gear, and I have
to say I’m not thrilled about it.


Is it really so bad if we keep our kids home and don’t send
them to school? I mean, really? I mean, like, go to jail bad?
Really?