1 Mother 2 Another

Saturday afternoon the girls and I were
enjoying glorious spring weather playing outside on the street of
our cul de sac. Maddie was zooming around on her bike while Cora
scootered happily along, me admiring various tricks and
occasionally pulling weeds from the front lawn.


After a while Maddie became restless and asked if she could bike by
herself for a while. Now, I have never let Maddie go off for a bike
ride before: she doesn’t even walk the half-mile to school
alone. Mama’s not quite ready, I guess.


But I could see in her eyes her longing to stretch her legs, so I
said, “Tell you what. You can ride the two blocks to the
park, ride around the blacktop a few times, then come back,
ok?”

Maddie’s eyes lit up.

Yesterday was a gorgeous day outside and
the girls had a rare day of sibling amity for the entire day; we
played outside after school then came home and continued in the
back yard, pausing only briefly for dinner, until bedtime. Part of
the time I simply lay on the grass and watched them laughing and
giggling together, marveling that sometimes I get it right –
at least, right enough to be able to give them this small measure
of happiness in each other.


Anyway, their joy was overflowing and the funny things kept pouring
out of their mouths. At one point, Maddie was demonstrating how
she’s working on her front flip: she laid out several floor
pillows in a row (yes, we take them outside sometimes, and really,
the word “no” just didn’t fit in
yesterday’s vocabulary), ran at the pillows, flipped in
mid-air, and landed on her head – yes, head – and
continued smoothly into a forward roll.


I watched her do this and said, “Honey, I am really glad you
chose to use the pillows; practicing this on the hard ground would
not be good.”

Last night I taught until just after the
girls’ bedtime, and when I came home I immediately headed
upstairs for a last-minute snuggle, as is my habit. The girls read
books and say prayers with a grown-up, then are allowed a bit of
time by themselves with the light on to read some more or do
crosswords or puzzle books. Well, traditionally Maddie would read
and Cora, not yet a reader, would do some sort of maze book or
color.


But recently Cora’s been reading and I’ll occasionally
come in to snuggle her and find her working her way through a book.
Last night, I happened upon my daughter reading Shel
Silverstein’s The Giving Tree.


Now, this is one of my favorite books, and I can’t get
through it now that I’m a mom without weeping. So to see my
daughter reading it aloud to herself – well, you can
imagine.

This weekend, out of nowhere Maddie said,
“Ok, here’s something I don’t get.”


Uh oh.


“How is it that sometimes when people get married they
don’t have a baby right away, but sometimes people have
babies sooner?”


The adults at the table looked at each other.

A few weeks ago the girls’ school
began teaching soccer in gym class and for whatever reason Maddie
got bitten by the soccer bug. She’s managed to spend her
whole young life assiduously avoiding team sports, but this time
around a light’s switched on and she wants desperately to
play.


Of course, by the time she came to this realization all the spring
soccer leagues were already under way, so Brian stepped up and
offered to do a once-a-week practice at a nearby field for Maddie
and some friends. No games on Saturdays, no competition, just
getting together once a week to work on soccer skills and have fun.


Last night was the first practice.

Spring break is barely in our rearview
mirror at this household and I’m already feeling the pressure
to get our summer schedule figured out. You might think such a
schedule would look something like this: “Sleep in. Go to the
pool. Take a nap. Repeat.” And we’ll certainly have
many days like that, it’s true.


But that’s not the whole story.

So the first part of spring break was
awesome.


Then Cora got the flu.


Yes, it's true. Yes, she had the flu shot. Yes, she had the flu in
January. Apparently it just LOVES her.


Tuesday night Cora woke up with a raging fever and our Staycation
poster plans were blown out of the water. Maddie, for her part, was
pretty good about having to cancel everything - out the window went
the horseback riding, the shoe shopping, the movie-watching in a
REAL MOVIE THEATRE. My neglected oldest spent several days playing
around the house by herself - thank you, Barbie! - while I was
stuck like glue to Cora, who wouldn't let me leave her for more
than a few moments.


Then, to make things even better, my back went out Friday -
apparently several sleepless nights combined with sleeping next to
a fretful five-year-old don't make for a happy spine - and I
hobbled around for the rest of the weekend. The whole family -
minus me and Cora - went out to our rental cabin Friday morning
while Cora cried bitterly at being left behind. She seemed to rally
well so we drove on out Saturday morning and had most of the
weekend in the cabin blissfully fishing and feeding baby animals on
the farm.


While Mommy hobbled all around, cursing her painful back.


Not the way I'd envisioned spring break, to be sure.

So yesterday I filled you in on my past
life with Barbies – read that first if you haven’t
already. Let’s just say that I played with Barbies as a kid,
as did my mom who gave hers to me, and I had them all in a huge
steamer trunk neatly labeled “Barbies” in my garage.
The girls have seen the trunk and longed for the day I’d get
it down for them.


Monday was that day.


Monday was our Pajama Day – a day we traditionally have for
every Staycation, and this spring break is no exception. I thought
for this Pajama Day I’d bring in the Barbie trunk and let
them wallow in girl-ness for the day.


Now, on Pajama Day the girls aren’t allowed to go downstairs
until both are awake and an adult goes with them: I set up a pallet
of pillows and blankets on the floor the night before for
movie-watching, get out games and fun stuff to do, and tape up a
“chores list” for the day. No one’s allowed a
sneak peak, since the chores list says things like “Eat
cookie dough” or “finger paint” or “play
outside in your pajamas”.


Or “play with Barbies”.

My girls have not gotten hugely into
Barbie – she’s never appeared on a cake or taken over
our gameroom - but it’s definitely on Cora’s radar. I
think the plastic dolls first started coming in the house as the
Disney princesses; the actual Barbie first came across Cora’s
path as a book, I believe. You know the books – the tons of
books-from-the-movies that Barbie “stars” in, like the
dancing one and Fairytopia and the Ariel-wanna-be girl, Merliah.


Ok, so we have our fair share of Barbies in the house.


I’ve resisted buying them a lot of “Barbie”
stuff, partly because it’s stupidly expensive (what I do buy
comes from resale shops), a bit because of the whole feminist issue
(though let’s not put all the blame on Barbie for this one, O
Mouse House), but mostly because I have a whole trunk of Barbie
paraphernalia in the garage.

That’s right, baby. Read it and
weep.


When that whistle blows at 3 p.m. it’s SPRING BREAK!


We are, of course, ridiculously excited. The Staycation Poster is
up and ready to go, and the girls are eagerly awaiting our
bonanza-o-fun we’ve got coming up: a pajama day, plenty of
park play dates, a trip to the movies, LOTS of down time, and the
grand finale: two days at our favorite cabin rental just a couple
hours away.


We’re bustin’ outta school and not looking back.


Baby.

Hello, blue skies.


Hello, balmy, lazy afternoons.


Hello, cooing doves and trilling cardinals.


I’ve missed you!



Hello, allergies.


Hello, neti pot.


Hello, seasonal migraines.


I leave it to your imaginations to decide how I feel about you.

Yesterday was a glorious day outside
– high in the mid-80’s, breezy and sunny. Maddie rode
her bike to school while Cora scootered her way there, so we were
all happy as we traveled home in the gorgeous sunshine.


Maddie moves the fastest on her bike, and Cora will often choose to
scooter slowly beside me to chat, tell me about her day, and so
forth. Yesterday, though, she scootered alongside me silently for a
bit before powering on ahead to catch up with Maddie at a
crosswalk. After we’d gotten across the street and turned
down our last block, Maddie put one foot on the pedal, preparing to
take off again.


“Maddie, can you ride more slowly so I can scooter next to
you? I’ve got some stuff to tell you,” Cora said.
Maddie moved over on the wide lane and Cora began shoving along
next to her big sister, who asked, “What do you need to tell
me?”