Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Butterfly House

Every spring Dow Gardens play host to a wonderful assortment of colorful butterflies in an on site greenhouse.  A tropical environment is created in our not-so-tropical Mid-Michigan town, and butterflies and moths of all colors and varieties can be observed and even handled with care if you happen to be a Butterfly Whisperer.  (Surely there is such a thing.)  This year my two year old enjoyed chatting with each butterfly that she met, and despite the fact that they didn't answer back, she enjoyed herself immensely.
"Say, 'Cheese,' Butterfly!!"

Saturday, March 24, 2012

We Had Ourselves a Tea Party Today!

No, I am certainly not talking politics for heaven's sake.  We had the kind of tea party with little cakes and tea sandwiches and pots filled with lemonade (since my daughter Sophia correctly assumed that her eight-year-old friends would want nothing to do with proper hot tea).  The last big birthday party we had for Sophie happened when she turned five.  It was a pirate-themed party.  There were lots of boys and girls there, and it was energetic and wonderful.  There was plenty of energy at today's party also, but the guests were all female and slightly older and wiser.  Prior to the party the guest of honor and her big sister were supremely helpful, and that was a very pleasant change!

First thing this morning we made two full trays of chocolate-dipped strawberries, and when we sat down to tea, these were devoured almost instantly by the eight little girls sitting round the table.  I managed to snag one of them, and it was perfectly wonderful.  So simple and delicious.  We also toasted with tea cups filled with lemonade and enjoyed a variety of petite finger foods before the cupcake tree was brought out.  Some of the kids were a bit skeptical about my homemade chocolate buttercream frosting.  It just didn't have that plasticky, partially hydrogenated flavor they know and love.  Oh well.
My favorite photo of the day!

I'm pretty sure that the only eight year old who cared anything about the "fancy" table and all of the thought that went into the place settings was the birthday girl herself, and that is just fine because it was all for her.  I love that she was as thrilled and excited that we were using my late grandmother Adeline's depression glass plates, cups and saucers.  She ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the floral arrangement, pretty tea pots, color coordinated napkins, and tablecloth.  And when everyone was gone, she hugged me and said, "Mom, I really loved my party!"  Be still, my heart.
Of course her actual birthday isn't until next weekend, so don't think for a minute that we are all finished celebrating this fabulous little lady.

"Your children need your presence more than your presents." ~Jesse Jackson

Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Luckiest Girl

None of us knows what happens before we become conscious on this earth.  I will be the first to admit that I know very little about anything.  All of the girls at my house, however, like to believe that we come from the same place to which we will return when we leave this earth.  My little girls like to imagine that they were all friends in a different realm before they met on Earth as sisters.  We like to collectively tell the story of how the three of them looked down from heaven where they were probably seated on a cloud and surveyed life on the earth below.

"Look," one of them says, "Those two are going to be our parents.  They seem nice."  The other two agree.  Emma, being the dominant, adventurous type, decides that she should be the firstborn child in our family.  We pause to reflect on what a stubborn, grouchy, and serious baby our beautiful Emma was, and she reminds me that she was obviously just missing the sisters that she left behind.  (Babies start to forget about their heavenly origins around the age of one when they start to become verbal.  You knew this already, I'm sure.)

Meanwhile up on the cloud, Sophie and Lili are left discussing what should happen next.  Sophie feels like she is ready go and meet her Mom and Dad, and Lili does nothing to discourage her.  "Won't you be lonely up here all by yourself?" Sophie asks her baby sister.

"I'll be fine," says the wisest sister of all, "You go ahead.  I insist."  Lili knows a secret that she keeps to herself.  So less than two years later Sophia makes her peaceful entrance into the world.  She is easygoing and lives in the moment, watching us all intently through her prodigious, baby blue eyes.  She is, of course, adored by her parents and entertained endlessly by her big sister Emma.  Sophie and Emma have their own secret "Na-na" language that only the two of them understand.  Our family is full and happy and busy.  We even take off to a different continent and have new adventures in other countries while the third sister sits up in heaven just watching and waiting.

Eventually (five and a half years later) we welcome Lilianna.  She is received with warmth and affection and excitement.  (Her parents weren't sure they would ever have a third child, but when Sophia enrolled in full-time primary school at the age of four, her mama started to ache for another baby at home.)  Lili is showered with attention and wails insistently anytime she is not being held.  Lili's sisters gaze lovingly at her and coo things like, "I just cannot believe that she is my baby sister!"  She has two confident parents who know how to expertly soothe and care for infants.  Her parents also know that she will very likely be the last baby they ever have, and they, without an ounce of guilt, spoil her rotten with unabashed love.

This was the secret that she held tightly under her tongue just a moment ago in that other realm where time does not even exist.  Our clever Lili knew that the last girl to arrive would be the luckiest girl.  She would have two adoring sisters to serve as playmates, cheerleaders, and caregivers as well as two smitten parents who knew from experience how fleeting childhood seems.  We remember how her gut-wrenching newborn cries sounded much like repeated shrieks of, "Hoo-ray!  Hoo-ray!  Hoo-ray!"  She was cheering the fact that things had turned out so perfectly for her.

When we tell this story, no one faults her for keeping her secret and relishing her treasured status as 'baby of the family'.  We love that she reminds us of how sweet life can be when one expects and accepts love.  Plus she is a little bit cute, and we enjoy mothering and sistering her.  And one day, I truly believe, she will sleep in her own bed...



But for now we will squeeze every last cuddle out of her.  We will kiss the world's softest cheeks anytime she allows it.  We will read her stories, make fools of ourselves trying to inspire her laughter, and bend the rules when she asks for crackers in bed.  We will also try to teach her some manners along the way, but most importantly, we will show her how to love and be loved.  In the end we realize that we are all very lucky girls. 

Sunday, March 18, 2012

I Love This Person

All of those thankless, sleepless nights when she was a thankless, sleepless infant are paying off.  I'm so glad I didn't send this girl back with the stork when he dropped her off on my doorstep nearly ten years ago.  I might have seriously contemplated it one night when I hadn't slept in 72 hours and found myself aching, leaking, and staring into her purple, inconsolable, squalling face.  Yes, I am glad I stuck it out because she finally did stop crying, and now she is a perfectly delightful companion.  Yesterday my oldest girl and I had a day of fun doing nothing particularly special.  I think there was a moment in the grocery store parking lot when we both looked at each other and silently thought, "I really like being with you."  Then we resumed skipping toward the store in our flip flops and sunglasses (in March!  I know!).

Yesterday also happened to be St. Patrick's Day, so we found the traditional Irish music station on Pandora, and I made my famous Irish stew with Guinness while my girls worked on rainbow fruit kebabs and green kool-aid.  We all agreed that it is nearly impossible to feel glum when Irish flutes and fiddles fill the air.  Emma remarked that she felt like she was in the Shire, and before the evening was over all of us danced some form of a jig on the kitchen floor and in the backyard.  After the dancing Emma suggested that we take some artistic photos to commemorate the day...
Taking silly photographs, dancing in the kitchen and bonding in the produce aisle is important because she won't always like me.  I am her mom and not her best friend.  There will be days when she sends darts of disdain at me from her eyes when as we lock horns over whether or not she should be allowed to do something that "everyone else is doing," but yesterday was a good day.  Yesterday we 'got each other," and I have the photos to prove it.
"Seriously, Mom.  Seriously."

Friday, March 16, 2012

Watch Your Mouth

Yesterday morning while she was sitting at the kitchen table, my two year old very casually blurted out an expletive when she dropped her pink play dough on the floor.  Later in the day, when I removed a dirty nickel from her mouth, she looked me in the eye and playfully declared, "You're a jerk, Mommy."  This morning I sent her into her room to find and put on a pair of socks.  She did her best, but her efforts resulted in a backward, twisted and obviously uncomfortable sock configuration on her little feet.  "Oh no!" she wailed dramatically from inside her bedroom, "My socks are RUINED!!"

I rushed in to help with the sock situation since I recognized her words and her frantic tone.  She learned them both from me.  In fact all of the phrases I quoted above could have come from my mouth under different circumstances.  Is it any wonder that a two-year-old's favorite word is,"no"?  That is the word they most often hear coming from their friends and loved ones.  "No! Stop That!  Oh my stars, the wall is RUINED!!"

Hearing my own words and inflections coming from the sweet lips of an innocent child should give me pause.  I really should stop and think before I angrily suggest that the poorly performing ice maker has violated someone's mother. Honestly it's on my 'to do' list.. right after I fix that bloody ice maker.

Most of the time the learning of language and Mom-mimicry is pretty wonderful and adorable.  Lili often corrects me when I offer her a "little bit" of something that she wants.  "No, Mommy!"  she explains, "I want too much of that!"  Obviously in her two-year-old brain, there are two amounts of gold fish crackers to be had: "a little bit", and "too much."  Clearly the "little bit" that Mom usually offers is not sufficient.

She is learning, and the third time around with a two-year-old I am still learning too.  Witnessing learning is always fascinating and magical.  Perhaps this is why I was drawn to teaching and why I enjoy children so much.  Leaving babyhood in the past is bittersweet, but growth and change is exciting.  I do so love being repeatedly astonished by the 'darndest things' these children of mine say.  You just try not to smile when this little face looks up at you and says...
"Leave me alone.  I'm trying to dance.  SERIOUSLY!!"

 "Of all the haunting moments of motherhood, few rank with hearing your own words come out of your daughter's mouth."  ~Victoria Secunda