Every night when H is done reading I hear the book hit the floor with a thud, the snap of her bedside light switching off, then she calls to me, "Goodnight, Mommy; I love you!" I reply, "I love you, H; goodnight!" because palindromes amuse me.
---
Last month I looked up something I wrote about Handel's Messiah because I wanted to share it with the music director who orchestrated (heh) the whole thing. She's being treated for cancer that's come back and metastasized and could use all cheerful distraction and reminiscing she can get.
Tonight I was reading through the fat binder full of pages I wrote while in college, mostly, and ran across a few things about my then 8 yr old cousin that I texted to that cousin who is now in his 20s.
---
If I like reading back over things I've written then I should write.
Showing posts with label Elaine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elaine. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
Friday, September 30, 2016
The prettiest sounds
Just before Christmas in 2014 Elaine went with me to the music store and we came home with the tiniest violin. She was five. One morning in the spring of that year, she woke up asking for violin lessons.
"Why?" I asked.
Her response was always the same, "They make the prettiest sounds."
I waited to pursue lessons for her because she was FIVE and if this was going to be a passing fad, I didn't want to jump on board, much less throw money at it. But in the fall, as she began kindergarten, she still bugged me about violin lessons.
She turned six a month after her first lesson and her teacher said, "I've never seen a more beautiful bow hand on a child so young. And her ear? She's a natural."
I wasn't going to argue. Melodies have always come quickly and easily to Elaine. She is a deep feeler and deeply expressive. The violin is a perfect fit.
Elaine's love for the violin does not (always) translate to a love for daily practice. I insisted upon it. The money spent on lessons would NOT be wasted! We clashed. Finally I told her that if she still wanted to quit violin lessons at the end of the school year (by now she was nearly done with 1st grade) then I would let her quit. Until then, however, there would be absolutely no discussion.
June arrived. I approached her hoping I had read her correctly those few months back.
"Well Elaine," I began, "school is out. What do you think about violin? Should I tell Ms. Nancy that you want to stop lessons?"
She thought. While she thought, I thought. I had done something pretty risky, leaving it up to her, but I also knew this was necessary. She had to own it. It's so much more rewarding when you own it. Plus, if she chooses it, then she can't be so bitter about me "forcing" her. This would be HER decision and I wanted her to make it herself.
She cocked her head and looked up at me, as if trying to read my thoughts about this whole situation, "Wellllll..." she finally said, "I guess I'll keep going." Ah-HAH! I thought in exuberant victory, Mom wins again!
But really, she's the winner.
She's seven now, and can play all the songs her elementary school band (plus strings) plays. And band is only for 4th and 5th graders.
Tonight she asked to listen to music at bedtime. I picked up my iPad and prepared to pick a kids music station.
"Actually, Mommy," she said, "can you look for something with violins?"
I certainly could.
"Why?" I asked.
Her response was always the same, "They make the prettiest sounds."
I waited to pursue lessons for her because she was FIVE and if this was going to be a passing fad, I didn't want to jump on board, much less throw money at it. But in the fall, as she began kindergarten, she still bugged me about violin lessons.
She turned six a month after her first lesson and her teacher said, "I've never seen a more beautiful bow hand on a child so young. And her ear? She's a natural."
I wasn't going to argue. Melodies have always come quickly and easily to Elaine. She is a deep feeler and deeply expressive. The violin is a perfect fit.
Elaine's love for the violin does not (always) translate to a love for daily practice. I insisted upon it. The money spent on lessons would NOT be wasted! We clashed. Finally I told her that if she still wanted to quit violin lessons at the end of the school year (by now she was nearly done with 1st grade) then I would let her quit. Until then, however, there would be absolutely no discussion.
June arrived. I approached her hoping I had read her correctly those few months back.
"Well Elaine," I began, "school is out. What do you think about violin? Should I tell Ms. Nancy that you want to stop lessons?"
She thought. While she thought, I thought. I had done something pretty risky, leaving it up to her, but I also knew this was necessary. She had to own it. It's so much more rewarding when you own it. Plus, if she chooses it, then she can't be so bitter about me "forcing" her. This would be HER decision and I wanted her to make it herself.
She cocked her head and looked up at me, as if trying to read my thoughts about this whole situation, "Wellllll..." she finally said, "I guess I'll keep going." Ah-HAH! I thought in exuberant victory, Mom wins again!
But really, she's the winner.
She's seven now, and can play all the songs her elementary school band (plus strings) plays. And band is only for 4th and 5th graders.
Tonight she asked to listen to music at bedtime. I picked up my iPad and prepared to pick a kids music station.
"Actually, Mommy," she said, "can you look for something with violins?"
I certainly could.
Monday, August 10, 2015
Honestly
The good people of In N Out can be depended upon to ask how you're doing before they take your order. I've always thought it big of them and usually attempt to return the favor. As if either of us will say how we really are. It's a question I've answered with varying degrees of honesty; sometimes strangers can't handle the truth. (Or they look at you oddly for honestly communicating it.) Tonight at 9:58 pm, I wanted to respond, "mentally worn out and completely empty" but instead I smiled and placed my order. (Number three with onions, ketchup instead of the spread with root beer for in the car.)
Arriving home thirty minutes prior, after four hours of intense interaction with people, felt like a bombardment of needs. Superman wanted my opinion on which clothes to donate. Val wanted to talk about her chapped lip. Elaine wanted me to sing her bedtime song. I met the needs as best I could and then met a need of my own by driving away by myself. I didn't listen to the radio.
I didn't even play Ingress.
I wouldn't trade the two groups I'm a part of on Mondays for anything, but man they can take a toll on me. I'm ON ON ON (all GOOD GOOD GOOD) but when I get home I seriously need some OFF OFF OFF time.
---
Our family is looking for a new church home. I've always enjoyed observing people but I find observing people at church particularly interesting.
I know the observing goes both ways, especially in smaller gatherings, like the one we attended yesterday.
I tried not to care too much when Elaine spent most of the opening singing time with both fingers firmly (and not inconspicuously) planted in her ears. When I leaned over and quietly inquired as to the reason for her turning two deaf ears, she met me with a violent scowl and proceeded to say (loudly, so as to be heard over the song) "I'm mad because no one gave me breakfast." I was off the hook because I left the house before she was awake, but I wondered what else she told the Sunday school class teacher about her morning (which apparently had not gone well!)
Arriving home thirty minutes prior, after four hours of intense interaction with people, felt like a bombardment of needs. Superman wanted my opinion on which clothes to donate. Val wanted to talk about her chapped lip. Elaine wanted me to sing her bedtime song. I met the needs as best I could and then met a need of my own by driving away by myself. I didn't listen to the radio.
I didn't even play Ingress.
I wouldn't trade the two groups I'm a part of on Mondays for anything, but man they can take a toll on me. I'm ON ON ON (all GOOD GOOD GOOD) but when I get home I seriously need some OFF OFF OFF time.
---
Our family is looking for a new church home. I've always enjoyed observing people but I find observing people at church particularly interesting.
I know the observing goes both ways, especially in smaller gatherings, like the one we attended yesterday.
I tried not to care too much when Elaine spent most of the opening singing time with both fingers firmly (and not inconspicuously) planted in her ears. When I leaned over and quietly inquired as to the reason for her turning two deaf ears, she met me with a violent scowl and proceeded to say (loudly, so as to be heard over the song) "I'm mad because no one gave me breakfast." I was off the hook because I left the house before she was awake, but I wondered what else she told the Sunday school class teacher about her morning (which apparently had not gone well!)
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Regenerate
It's times like these I'm suddenly struck with the urge to make an Insta-book out of my 2013 instragram pictures.
Half the house is in boxes and the other half is disheveled. Tomorrow we pack to go to the mountains for the changing of the years. We'll get the keys to our new (rental) house on Friday!
It has occurred to me that this past year has been very probably the best, most comfortable year for me in my role as "stay at home" mom. Is it a coincidence that it also is the year both kids have been at school and/or preschool most days of the week? I think not.
Caring for (very) small children does not appear to be in my naturally-acquired skill set. Both times I've done it rather poorly and have fallen apart rather spectacularly. While it's true that there were many other rather large stressors at those times in my life, I highly doubt that even if I were to have the most ideal circumstances surrounding another pregnancy and birth that it would be possible without medication.
Which makes me sad. However, I don't want to put myself or my family through anything like my postpartum experiences again.
I'm not on medication now and I (usually) feel just fine! This makes me hopeful and wistful and I've briefly entertained the thought of another child.
---
A few months ago I was shopping at our local grocery store. A lady joined me by the spinach. Her tiny infant son was in a car-seat she had placed in the shopping cart and he began to fuss. She began gently rocking the seat but he didn't settle down. Instead he began screaming that ever-so-distinctive newborn cry.
My reaction surprised even me. I wasn't expecting to feel anything as strongly as I did. I almost had to leave the store. An avalanche of feelings suddenly dumped into my awareness, triggered by that crying. My heart was racing; I felt panicky and fearful, desperate and frantic, helpless and terrified.
Sanity was a difficult thing to maintain during those first few months of a screaming Elaine and a wide-eyed, sensitive Val. Our home had been and was still endlessly under construction and chaotic and I wasn't sure whether we'd be able to short sell it or have to go into foreclosure. Superman was on the break-in phase at his new job and largely unavailable in every way. I could barely function and then I couldn't function.
It was very hard.
All of it came rushing back as I stood there by the produce, listening to this newborn do what lots of newborns do - cry.
I quickly got the remaining items on my list and then hurried to the car. I closed the door and began to cry, too.
---
At dinner tonight Val said she wishes she could have a little brother. I told her I wish that too. I know God hears us. I want to hear Him. Little brothers can come in more ways than one.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Once more, with feeling!
You know what's really hard for me? Availability. Especially emotional availability.
It's a struggle for me to remain in the present moment and be available to others in it.
I'm unsettled by my inability to settle. My mind is always ahead, off to the next thing, the next event or conversation (or maybe still on the last one.) Sometimes the next thing is only playing a game on my phone or sometimes my mind is just plain not there. Is it self-centered of me? Self-focused? A sign I haven't cared for my introverted self completely enough? Is it merely a habit? Something I'm accustomed to? Copying what I've experienced and am familiar with?
I'm uneasy if I perceive myself to be TOO present. I fear not being in control and the vulnerability that comes with letting whatever comes in the moment, come. I've got other moments to plan for and other situations to prepare to control. The "other shoe" will drop, dontcha know, and any time I spend enjoying the moment will be foolish, when I could be bracing/planning/protecting myself for the impending doom of that dang shoe.
You know how Elaine lives? In the moment. Her days are full and complete and wondrous. She is there, really THERE, for everything. I'm enthralled by it and a little envious.
But it's safer for her, I tell myself, she's not an adult yet. She doesn't have all this stuff to stay on top of and prioritize and keep track of. Oh to be a child...
...right? Because grown-ups can't be free and delighted by the good moments and sorrowful during the sad, right? Grown-ups have to be steeled and protected with their guards up, right? A child-like adult doesn't seem like something to be desired, right?
I guess it makes sense, a little bit, but certainly not all the time.
I'm so uncomfortable with so many of my feelings. Present moments can be so scary with the feelings. I sometimes get the sense that certain feelings are hiding throughout my day, waiting to accost and overwhelm me... and that I won't have any control.
So I watch Elaine and I learn. It's a gift to me.
It's a struggle for me to remain in the present moment and be available to others in it.
I'm unsettled by my inability to settle. My mind is always ahead, off to the next thing, the next event or conversation (or maybe still on the last one.) Sometimes the next thing is only playing a game on my phone or sometimes my mind is just plain not there. Is it self-centered of me? Self-focused? A sign I haven't cared for my introverted self completely enough? Is it merely a habit? Something I'm accustomed to? Copying what I've experienced and am familiar with?
I'm uneasy if I perceive myself to be TOO present. I fear not being in control and the vulnerability that comes with letting whatever comes in the moment, come. I've got other moments to plan for and other situations to prepare to control. The "other shoe" will drop, dontcha know, and any time I spend enjoying the moment will be foolish, when I could be bracing/planning/protecting myself for the impending doom of that dang shoe.
You know how Elaine lives? In the moment. Her days are full and complete and wondrous. She is there, really THERE, for everything. I'm enthralled by it and a little envious.
But it's safer for her, I tell myself, she's not an adult yet. She doesn't have all this stuff to stay on top of and prioritize and keep track of. Oh to be a child...
...right? Because grown-ups can't be free and delighted by the good moments and sorrowful during the sad, right? Grown-ups have to be steeled and protected with their guards up, right? A child-like adult doesn't seem like something to be desired, right?
I guess it makes sense, a little bit, but certainly not all the time.
I'm so uncomfortable with so many of my feelings. Present moments can be so scary with the feelings. I sometimes get the sense that certain feelings are hiding throughout my day, waiting to accost and overwhelm me... and that I won't have any control.
So I watch Elaine and I learn. It's a gift to me.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Bedtime chronicles
After many questions interspersed with varying lengths of silence... from a very, very tired Elaine.
Elaine, calling from her bed: Mommy?
Me, answering from the couch, beginning stages of exasperation: Elaine, I don't have anything left to say to you.
Elaine: *pause* Well I do.
Me, suppressing a smile: Yes?
Elaine: Can you please hold me?
(What am I supposed to do with THAT?! Superman and I were cracking up.)
Me, firmly: No, Elaine. I love you, goodnight.
Elaine: *tired protesting wails dissolving into a tired meltdown* You NEVER hold me!
The despondent crying continues then suddenly we hear the noise of a child tumbling onto the floor. Superman and I exchange glances. Did she really just throw herself off the (lower bunk) bed?
Elaine: *still crying* Mommy!
Me, tiredly: Yes, Elaine?
Elaine: *crying harder* I fell off my beeeeeeeeeed.
I laughed out loud and began typing this entry. Superman went in to rescue the damsel in distress.
Elaine, calling from her bed: Mommy?
Me, answering from the couch, beginning stages of exasperation: Elaine, I don't have anything left to say to you.
Elaine: *pause* Well I do.
Me, suppressing a smile: Yes?
Elaine: Can you please hold me?
(What am I supposed to do with THAT?! Superman and I were cracking up.)
Me, firmly: No, Elaine. I love you, goodnight.
Elaine: *tired protesting wails dissolving into a tired meltdown* You NEVER hold me!
The despondent crying continues then suddenly we hear the noise of a child tumbling onto the floor. Superman and I exchange glances. Did she really just throw herself off the (lower bunk) bed?
Elaine: *still crying* Mommy!
Me, tiredly: Yes, Elaine?
Elaine: *crying harder* I fell off my beeeeeeeeeed.
I laughed out loud and began typing this entry. Superman went in to rescue the damsel in distress.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Which of these is alarmingly like the (m)other?
Elaine hasn't seen the pictures of me in the previous post. Elaine has a tendency to climb things. When she did this the other day (she'll be 4 in January) I was reminded of my own desire to act similarly. Nature or nurture? I vote yes.
Monday, October 1, 2012
It wasn't until after I had already talked for several minutes about the things I like and do not like about my current phone that it occurred to me that perhaps he (the checker at Sprouts) was just making small talk. He had seen me using it as I waited in line, asked what kind it was and mentioned he needed a new one. Apparently that was all the prompting I needed. Maybe I need to get out more.
---
Our downstairs neighbors are Korean and their daughter, Hope, attends kindergarten at the same school Val does. Today we were on our way to the pool and invited her to join us. Hope's mom and I get along as best we can but neither of us are very good at the other's primary language. As far as I can tell, Hope translates with about as much care and concern for accuracy as you would expect a five-year-old to have. We smile and shrug a lot and I imagine we each hope for the best, never quite sure if what we're saying is being fully or even partially understood. Today on the way to the pool, Hope observed, "I know Korean AND English," then she turned to Val, "do you know Korean?" "Nope." Val replied, then turned to me, "how come I don't know Korean?" I suggested Hope could teach her.
I hope my girls enjoy languages and pick a useful one to learn in high school. We live in such a diverse part of the world. So many of their friends are bilingual and it's such an asset to have. I'm jealous.
---
This morning was difficult for me. Swells of anxiety, looming big and threatening and refusing to be ignored. I'm completely baffled as to how to care for myself during times like that. My toolbox is ever expanding. For the most part I try to conceal it from my children, or speak very simply about it, but this morning Elaine asked me a specific question and I mentioned something to her about feeling scared and I wasn't sure why. She stopped what she was doing to come over to me, touch my shoulder lovingly, look me gently in the eye and say encouragingly, "remember Mommy, God is with you." And then she gave me a huge hug and went back to playing.
---
Our downstairs neighbors are Korean and their daughter, Hope, attends kindergarten at the same school Val does. Today we were on our way to the pool and invited her to join us. Hope's mom and I get along as best we can but neither of us are very good at the other's primary language. As far as I can tell, Hope translates with about as much care and concern for accuracy as you would expect a five-year-old to have. We smile and shrug a lot and I imagine we each hope for the best, never quite sure if what we're saying is being fully or even partially understood. Today on the way to the pool, Hope observed, "I know Korean AND English," then she turned to Val, "do you know Korean?" "Nope." Val replied, then turned to me, "how come I don't know Korean?" I suggested Hope could teach her.
I hope my girls enjoy languages and pick a useful one to learn in high school. We live in such a diverse part of the world. So many of their friends are bilingual and it's such an asset to have. I'm jealous.
---
This morning was difficult for me. Swells of anxiety, looming big and threatening and refusing to be ignored. I'm completely baffled as to how to care for myself during times like that. My toolbox is ever expanding. For the most part I try to conceal it from my children, or speak very simply about it, but this morning Elaine asked me a specific question and I mentioned something to her about feeling scared and I wasn't sure why. She stopped what she was doing to come over to me, touch my shoulder lovingly, look me gently in the eye and say encouragingly, "remember Mommy, God is with you." And then she gave me a huge hug and went back to playing.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
You'll know it's me when I come through your town
Elaine started a conversation as we passed a used car lot near our apartment that specializes in higher-end cars.
"Daddy? When our car booms into another car and we have to get a new one? I want an orange car."
"Oh really?" Superman replied.
"Yeah," she continued, "with sticking-up doors."
It's then we realize she's referring to the Lamborghini on display.
Nice choice, little girl.
Then Superman and I joked about getting a door kit for our little toaster car. That would be hilarious.
"Daddy? When our car booms into another car and we have to get a new one? I want an orange car."
"Oh really?" Superman replied.
"Yeah," she continued, "with sticking-up doors."
It's then we realize she's referring to the Lamborghini on display.
Nice choice, little girl.
Then Superman and I joked about getting a door kit for our little toaster car. That would be hilarious.
Friday, August 17, 2012
I shall not want.
Hurriedly written yesterday during Wonder Pets and Pinky Dinky Doo. Not quite how I want it yet, but that fits with the topic. =)
---
"But when will I get what I want?" Elaine asked during a loud, tearful post-nap meltdown. I gently reiterated the available snacks. All of them displeased her. The wails resumed. She wanted a snack, and only the snack SHE wanted.
Boy can I relate. I feel as though I've been asking God that question every day, lately: "but when will I get what I want?"
Today, for example. Today has been a horrible day. Nothing has gone how I wanted (little things, bigger things, biggest things) and many of the things I feel aren't too much to ask. I feel like giving up. I feel like stopping everything altogether because what's the point? Nothing's going how I want. It seems like nothing I do or say matters. I try and try and try... and it still feels as though I'm sliding backwards - losing ground. When do I get what I want?! Shouldn't I, at least SOME of the time?
Elaine continued her lamentations. I sighed. Waking her up from a nap I didn't want her to take was also something I hadn't wanted to do. I opened my arms to her and she willingly settled on my lap, still explaining how much she wished and hoped and wanted to have the forbidden snacks and demonstrating her sorrow at not being able to have them. Just the thought would bring a whole set of fresh tears. Oh the tears and frustration and energy spent when things don't go how we want.
I rubbed her back and pondered the similarities between her current attitude toward me and mine toward God.
She had some options, like I do. She can change her wants, trust, be satisfied with what's available to her, or she can continue to be miserable.
I thought about God, my loving Father, knowing my needs better than I do.
I thought about what I want and what I think I need and how strongly my feelings are wrapped up in that.
Elaine was falling back asleep on my lap. She needed the sleep and (against my wishes!) she needed it now. My presence had calmed her enough to get what she really needed. She needed sleep more than the snack she wanted.
I have an app on my phone that displays the verse of the day. Today's verse is Psalm 84:10, "Better a day in Your courts than a thousand anywhere else. I would rather be at the door of the house of my God than to live in the tents of wicked people."
It reminds me of the last verse of Psalm 73, "But as for me how good it is to be near God! I have made the Sovereign Lord my shelter, and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things you do."
Also Psalm 131, "I don't concern myself with matters too great or awesome for me. But I have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its mother."
Whether or not my day goes how I want (I did not want the girls to take naps!) or even if I get what I think I need or not (I "needed" a quiet evening, with kids asleep early!) something I always have and always need is God's presence and because of Emmanuel I can always have it.
So tonight, instead of relaxing and listening to podcasts while knitting... I'll be walking to see the ducks at dusk with two happy, rested girls. It's what I want.
---
"But when will I get what I want?" Elaine asked during a loud, tearful post-nap meltdown. I gently reiterated the available snacks. All of them displeased her. The wails resumed. She wanted a snack, and only the snack SHE wanted.
Boy can I relate. I feel as though I've been asking God that question every day, lately: "but when will I get what I want?"
Today, for example. Today has been a horrible day. Nothing has gone how I wanted (little things, bigger things, biggest things) and many of the things I feel aren't too much to ask. I feel like giving up. I feel like stopping everything altogether because what's the point? Nothing's going how I want. It seems like nothing I do or say matters. I try and try and try... and it still feels as though I'm sliding backwards - losing ground. When do I get what I want?! Shouldn't I, at least SOME of the time?
Elaine continued her lamentations. I sighed. Waking her up from a nap I didn't want her to take was also something I hadn't wanted to do. I opened my arms to her and she willingly settled on my lap, still explaining how much she wished and hoped and wanted to have the forbidden snacks and demonstrating her sorrow at not being able to have them. Just the thought would bring a whole set of fresh tears. Oh the tears and frustration and energy spent when things don't go how we want.
I rubbed her back and pondered the similarities between her current attitude toward me and mine toward God.
She had some options, like I do. She can change her wants, trust, be satisfied with what's available to her, or she can continue to be miserable.
I thought about God, my loving Father, knowing my needs better than I do.
I thought about what I want and what I think I need and how strongly my feelings are wrapped up in that.
Elaine was falling back asleep on my lap. She needed the sleep and (against my wishes!) she needed it now. My presence had calmed her enough to get what she really needed. She needed sleep more than the snack she wanted.
I have an app on my phone that displays the verse of the day. Today's verse is Psalm 84:10, "Better a day in Your courts than a thousand anywhere else. I would rather be at the door of the house of my God than to live in the tents of wicked people."
It reminds me of the last verse of Psalm 73, "But as for me how good it is to be near God! I have made the Sovereign Lord my shelter, and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things you do."
Also Psalm 131, "I don't concern myself with matters too great or awesome for me. But I have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its mother."
Whether or not my day goes how I want (I did not want the girls to take naps!) or even if I get what I think I need or not (I "needed" a quiet evening, with kids asleep early!) something I always have and always need is God's presence and because of Emmanuel I can always have it.
So tonight, instead of relaxing and listening to podcasts while knitting... I'll be walking to see the ducks at dusk with two happy, rested girls. It's what I want.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
And all the helicopter parents had a heart attack.
Of course right after I stopped recording she said, "Mom watch!" and turned 90 degrees to do a completely hands-free dismount. She stuck a solid landing without touching the ground with her hands and then strolled off.
(That was supposed to be a video. I'll work on it.)
Friday, June 22, 2012
Servant leadership, three-year-old style!
Elaine was feeling shy at the park today until the cutest little prince came along (the son of a friend of mine) and asked her to play. He even offered to put her shoes on for her and was so sweet and gentle.
And they played happily ever after.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Faith
This content is actually from October 21, 2011 and has just been sitting around waiting for me to do something with it since then.
Here's a prayer from Elaine that I had the privilege of overhearing. She did different voices for herself and God, too. =)
"Dear God, I don't want to be scared.
It's ok, [Elaine]. I'm God. I love you.
Oh ok. Thank you, God."
Here's a prayer from Elaine that I had the privilege of overhearing. She did different voices for herself and God, too. =)
"Dear God, I don't want to be scared.
It's ok, [Elaine]. I'm God. I love you.
Oh ok. Thank you, God."
Saturday, May 5, 2012
BadgerBadgerBadgerBadgerBader
My cousin keeps a few rosy boas as pets. Every time we visit, the girls ask to see/touch/hold them. Today when he took one of the smaller ones out of its cage Elaine's response was, "awwwwwww!" in the same tone she uses for babies. This makes me unreasonably happy.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
He loved her first
"When I grow all up? And get married? And move into a new house with a boy? I... I... will miss my daddy snuggling me."
- Elaine, despairingly.
- Elaine, despairingly.
Friday, April 20, 2012
First swim of the year!
Quite the success. And it'll be even warmer tomorrow! Can't wait for summer.
Fear
"I was scared because I wanted the dark to be light."
- Elaine
I like to live in the light, too.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Well.
I can't say that I'm terribly surprised. She certainly comes by it naturally. =)
Val's comment was, "That looks like a GREAT idea! Can I try?" Elaine hadn't bothered to ask; she just got busy, because really, the thing's just ASKING to be climbed.
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