1 Mother 2 Another

Note to self:


In the future, when trying to defuse a tense situation with
squabbling siblings by suggesting a rousing round of Family Board
Game Night, kindly do not suggest “SORRY” as the game
of choice.


Especially when you’re stupid enough to win.


Though by the time the game is over, you’ve only actually
beaten/broken the heart of one daughter, since the first daughter
left the game early on sobbing, “But it’s just not FAIR
that I get bumped just because you slide! It’s an UNJUST
rule! I can’t take this!”


Live and learn.

Recently Maddie’s been rather
indifferent about food – and by “food” I mean
anything but dessert. There is absolutely no ennui in her attitude
towards sugar. But for regular meals, she’ll take all morning
to decide what she wants for breakfast – half a bowl of
cereal – then procrastinate for an hour over lunch, then eat
a decent dinner (perhaps because she doesn’t get to choose
that meal). This has left me saying, “What do you want for
lunch, Maddie?” over and over again, only getting an answer
from her right after I’ve sat down and put my feet up to eat
my own lunch.


So a few days ago, I finally said, “Maddie, if you do not
tell me what you want for lunch in the next five minutes, I will
not make anything for you. If you are hungry, you will need to
provide for yourself. Do you understand?”


“Yes, ma’am,” I heard from behind a book.


Okay then.

One of my all-time favorite sites, href="http://www.crunchybetty.com" target="_blank">Crunchy
Betty, posted an article recently on homemade dishwasher
detergent. Her sister makes her own, and her one-year-old daughter
got into it and ate a fistful of it. One quick call to poison
control and they discovered that the fact that it was homemade
detergent saved them a trip to the ER.


Making your own household cleaners isn't just cheap and
eco-friendly - it's better for the kids, too! Check out her full
post (plus a few recipes for homemade dish detergent) href="http://www.crunchybetty.com/still-dont-actually-eat-your-dishwasher-detergent"
target="_blank">here.


And as an obligatory warning note: even homemade cleaners can be
toxic. No one thinks your kid should drink a bottle of vinegar
straight, for instance. But it's better than the harsh chemicals
in store-made cleaners.

Dear Camp Counselor of Maddie’s Day
Camp:


Last Friday as Maddie was finishing her breakfast on the last
morning of her week-long school-sponsored day camp, she said,
“Mom, can you set up a playdate with one of my
counselors?” Turns out she had so much fun with her over the
week that she wanted to keep the new friendship going. I explained
that older girls wouldn’t come over for a play date, but as a
babysitter, to which Maddie responded, “Then the next time
you go out, will you call her to be my babysitter?”


“I’ll look into it,” I said, then added,
“How will I know which camp counselor to ask? You have two of
them!”


“Oh, it’s easy,” Maddie replied. “I want
you to invite the one who likes kids, not the other one.”


Have you guessed, Camp Counselor? You are the “other
one”.

At the pool last night Maddie met two
older girls, fifth graders who were, of course, incredibly cool to
Maddie. They were kind girls and allowed Maddie to attach herself
to them for most of the evening. They played games with her and
paid attention to her – to an extent. But after a while
enough was enough and they paused on the other side of the pool to
hang out and gossip, big-girl style.


Maddie, desperate to get their attention back, climbed out of the
pool, stood at the edge, and said, “Hey, guys! GUYS!”
The girls looked up politely.


“Watch me!” Maddie shouted. “I’m going to
say ‘Mickey Mouse’ in slow motion!”


What?

Maddie and Cora have both been in camp
this week, and I have to admit, it’s nice having a couple
hours of space to try to get back on top of my domestic life. I
adore having the girls out of school, and we’ve positively
wallowed in our togetherness – copious hours by the pool,
multiple rounds of Go Fish and dance-a-thons, and so on. But as we
spend so much time hanging out, other things fall by the wayside:
suddenly I’m doing laundry in fits and spurts, and may get
three loads washed one day but take almost a week to get them
folded and put away. Small things break down in the house and
simply don’t get fixed.


And as for housecleaning –well, let’s just say
don’t look at my toilets too closely.

A couple people asked me after
yesterday’s post to elaborate on our bedtime arrangement
– how the girls get to color in their room, etc.


So here it is.

I’ve written a few times before
about love languages, and how I can see the girls developing
differently in that area. They’re becoming more clearly
defined, and I love to see their individuality, even as I see them
both happily moving forward and reaching out in each individual
language.


Cora is a big Words and Affirmation girl, and is more comfortable
saying, “I love you so much, Mommy,” out of the blue,
than any other kid I’ve seen. Her comfort with verbal
intimacy is humbling, and makes me work harder to meet that and
respond to her in her own words.

I taught all morning yesterday while the
girls stayed home with Gamma, and when I returned just in time for
lunch I opened the door into my kitchen –


And found a puppy barking on my floor.


No, not a real puppy. Don’t panic.

Our city offers a really great program
– free outdoor concerts every Monday during June - and most
years we find at least once band we’re interested in seeing.
This past Monday, we hit the city park to listen to a
Beatles’ tribute band.


And boy, did we have a good time.

Dear Maddie:


Last week you asked me to take a picture of you on the day before
your birthday, then take a picture on the morning of your birthday,
print them both up, affix them to paper (your instructions were
specific), and then turn it over to you. You want desperately to
see if you notice a difference between your six-year-old picture
and your seven-year-old picture.


Don’t bother looking, kiddo. I can see it well enough for
both of us.


What has happened this past year? You’ve grown so much
– and I’m not talking physically, though a friend of
mine described you and a friend of yours, accurately, as
“Great Dane puppies” just last week. And I’m not
talking emotionally, though the difference between you at the end
of kindergarten and you at the end of first grade is night and day.


No, what I’m talking about is how you’ve grown as a
unique individual.

Every day this week Maddie presses me
about her upcoming birthday in some fashion: asking if it’s
too late to add to her wish list (yes), wanting to know if
I’m getting stuff done for her party this weekend (of
course), and wondering aloud whether or not she’ll look
significantly different on the morning of her birthday.


‘Cause she’s aging and all.

A theatre friend of mine has a daughter
about Cora’s age, and the two play together a fair amount.
The girls share a love of all things theatrical, and just like
Cora, her friend Talia loves to dress up for elaborate
“shows” and adores listening to Broadway cast
recordings in the car.


A few weeks ago, little Talia started violin lessons, and the
session started with the teacher enthusing over how quickly the
girl would learn to play simple tunes.


“Why, today you’re going to play ‘Mary Had A
Little Lamb’ before the end of your lesson. What do you think
of that?”


Talia stared at her blankly, and then said politely,
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that one.
Perhaps I can play you something from ‘Les Miserables’
instead?”


Ok, maybe show kids are a little weird.

Yesterday morning I had to wake the girls
up for an early swim lesson. As Cora blinked her eyes open, she
rolled over, yawned, and said, “Mommy, everyone should carry
around something so we can all catch our tears and save
them.”


Cora is a hard sleeper and can have deep, vivid dreams, so I
wasn’t sure where this was coming or even if she was fully
awake, but I continued the conversation.


“Why do you say that, honey?” I asked, thinking
it’d be something fanciful about turning them into laughter
or not letting bad people see her sorrow.


“Because,” Cora continued, “if everyone caught
all their tears we could use them to end the drought. Tears are
water, and there’s a water shortage, so we should re-use
them!”


I love my girl.

This weekend Maddie and I were driving
through some farm country when I spied a curious sight out the
window.


“Look, Maddie!” I cried, and pointed to a group of
horses – one of whom was wearing what I can only describe as
an equine version of a 1950’s rain over-coat. You know the
ones: A translucent plastic that folds up into your purse, but when
the rain starts Voila! You’ve got a see-through raincoat
that’s tailored like a lovely day dress. The horse
didn’t seem to mind and was munching away on some hay while
sporting a semi-translucent plastic coat, tailored over his whole
body. It snapped at the neck, wrapped around his withers, and came
partway down his tail, as if made for his measurements.