As I shared in my previous post, I want to share some moments I’ve had with my kids, to remember them as they are now, to remember the days I have them close and small, days, I am told by older and wiser parents, that will pass more quickly than I can know right now. So I want to treasure some of the moments I have with them here, in no particular order. The dates are for me mostly, for memory’s sake.
June 14, 2012
Michaela asked me if I still have my wedding dress and if she could see it today.
I pulled it out of its hiding place in my closet, and spread it over my bed. We looked at it together, she examined all its details. She wowed and marveled over the veil my mom made to go so beautifully with my dress. She dreamt of maybe wearing it one day, asking me question after question about my wedding day.
…Mother-daughter moments that threaten to make you a weepy mess- you never see ‘em coming.
One rainy day, I took the boys on a morning date to Starbucks. Silas, not quite four years old, was pleased as punch sitting next to me sipping his chocolate shake, occasionally sharing his very important and very random thoughts with me and Solomon.
His eyes and mind were busy with people-watching, all sorts coming in from the rain, soothed by the warmth of indoors, easing into the line to order, pulling out wallets to pay for their orders.
After 10 or 15 minutes of observation, and a very long pause, Silas looked at me, thoughtful and serious, stating, “Mom, God doesn’t have a wallet.”
“What does He have, Silas?” I ask.
“He has money in rainbows, the sky, the grass, and the mountains.”
There you have it, folks. You heard it here.
Brooklynn and Silas killed their first frog yesterday.
After 3 hours of them playing outside so contentedly, I thought it might be a good (not to mention, responsible) idea to check on them in the backyard. I found Silas quietly coloring at the outside table with his right hand, while his left hand held a poor frog in a death grip in the air, pinching its sides towards its back, its black eyes bulging in pure terror, its legs hanging lifeless.
I exclaimed over it, telling him to put it back quickly, quickly, quickly!, trying my best not to throw up. He brought it over to its hole in a panic, putting it in like some kind of 2 year old frog expert.
In the afternoon, I found the frog, dried up and dead, sitting in the sun on the grass.
…They’re playing quietly outside right now… much too quietly…
Solomon insists on riding his rocking horse in the middle of the living room. We drag it back into the playroom, and when he notices it’s gone, he drags it back, mumbling his disapproval that it was moved at all.
Silas is walking around with Brooklynn’s polka-dotted lunchbag, telling me over and over again, “Don’t stay in my purse.”
He is quoting me- I say to him and Solomon all the time, “Stay out of my purse!!”
He has 3 or 4 play cameras in this “purse”, he is pretending to snap pictures with them. He says he “bites” when he takes a picture. He took a picture of my face and said, “Mom, I bite your eyes.” He turned and took a picture of our room and said, “Mom, I bite the room.”
I’ve noticed lately that when I vacuum, the testosterone mounts in my sons’ veins, and they are transported to a strange, barbaric world in which I am the great monster/dragon seeking to devour them.
As I helped Brooklynn put on her socks and shoes this morning, she says “You’re naked!! No, I’m not!!”
I ask, “Who are you talking to, Brooklynn?”
Ok, I’ll say it.
I like Tangled as much as my two little girls do.
I said it.
“Then I brush and brush and brush and brush my-y hair…!!”
March 16, 2012
This morning, it happened.
I’ve sworn to myself never to wipe anything off my children’s faces with my saliva.
Four kids into marriage, eight years into motherhood, I have stayed true to my word.
In the rush of the morning, leaning in for a kiss to send Brooklynn off to school, I spotted jam on her cheek. Before I even knew what my body was doing, I was licking my thumb and swiping that jam right off her sweet little face. She and I laughed together as I exclaimed, “That’s the first time I’ve ever done that, Brooklynn!!!”
I’m growing up.
April 4, 2012
As I laid Solomon down for a nap today, settling his blanket over him, he yanked his chubby fingers from his mouth abruptly and looked up at me, his big brown eyes wide.
I knew this was going to be important.
“Mom, I’m gonna have a good dream of GOD,” he said very solemnly.
My heart almost exploded. But that probably would have ruined the moment.
May 3, 2012
Michaela’s 2nd grade writing assignment:
Read the beginning sentence.
Finish the story.
Write a title for the story.
(Beginning sentence) One day I saw an octopus in a shoe store.
Michaela’s sweet 7 year old work:
(Title) Talking to an Octopus
“One day I saw an octopus in a shoe store.
It had six shoes or more. I met the octopus, it was very kind to me. But the octopus told me it was not kind to a bee. The octopus talked to me, yes, it’s true, but the red octopus, his brother, came along too. The red octopus was not very kind, it seemed that it was out of its mind! It was time to go and I knew, the octopus’s would go too.
May 23rd 2012
Solomon has finally peed in the toilet for the first time. (Yes, he is 3… yeah, I know, I know, everybody!! I’m still growing up, too! ;)
Silas, the big brother, was SO excited. He ran through the house yelling, “Mom, he peed!! He did it!! Solomon peed in the toilet!!! We HAVE to tell Daddy!!!!”
I congratulate my youngest on his accomplishment, and pick up the phone to call Kevin, at Silas’ urgent request. Silas is VERY persuasive.
As I wait on the phone, I see and hear Silas telling Solomon how proud he is of him, to hurry to follow him to their room so he can get some of his underwear for Solomon.
Solomon strutted behind Silas with a very big boy look on his face, his chest puffed out, quite pleased with himself as he followed his proud big brother, who was about to share the sacred stash of cool Spiderman and Superhero underwear with him.
The Day has come.
We help him get the underwear on and Solomon shares the news with his proud Daddy. Kevin shares our happiness, giving his approval to all of us over the phone, telling Solomon how proud he is of him, telling me how proud he is of Silas for how happy he is for Solomon, telling me “Don’t drop the ball” as we say good-bye (his way of telling me he’s proud of me too).
I told Silas how proud his Daddy is of him, and we all wore the same contented smiles on our faces.
Kevin- Father, Husband, was proud of us. What more do we need to know today?
May 30, 2012
Around 7:30 this morning, standing in the kitchen readying the coffee pot to brew, I take in the scene before me, my senses on overload.
The kids were “eating breakfast at the table”-
Michaela was mutilating her gummy bear vitamin, yelling things like “I don’t have any arms!” and “I don’t have a brain!” on its behalf.
Brooklynn and Solomon were running circles around our dining and living room, Solomon screaming for no particular reason, Brooklynn- just running.
Silas was singing, “I’ve been dreaming of a true love’s kiss…!!” (from Enchanted) as handsomely as he could, declaring “Giselle!!!” from time to time, in between bites of cereal and milk.
I re-seat the marathon runners, moving into the bathroom with Michaela to fix her hair for school. As I braid, she breaks into song… The Twelve Days of Christmas.
At this point, I surrender.
We finish the whole song together. We sing through fixing her bed, making lunches for school, getting shoes on, etc.… Approaching the 12th day of Christmas, we raise the key for the grand finale, lifting our voices in exaggerated, operatic tones, Michaela clearing bowls and spoons, me, sweeping over milk circles and drippings with my washcloth… we close the song as obnoxiously as possible.
Yes, I know all the words to that dreadful song.
And yes, it was an out-of-body experience.
And now for that cup of coffee…
June 1, 2012
If you ever have 6 kids in your care for a day, ages 9 and under, and they ask you if they can make a “cave” in the kids’ bedroom, say “Most definitely, yes!!” and give them all the supplies they need (blankets, sheets, bed mattress…). Once they are engrossed in their work, back out of the room, then yell something over your shoulder like “It’s so loud… I’m shutting the door…!” Then close the door behind you.
You will be amazed at the quiet house you’ll have in your hands.
I understand how the illusion of being powerful can be so addicting…
June 11, 2012
While Solomon was waiting for his breakfast this morning, he began to whine, “Mooooom, I want my FOOOD………..”
I told him, “Solomon, stop whining. You act like a big boy and wait nicely. Are you acting like a big boy?”
Without hesitation he replies, “I’m acting wike a kid.” (he pronounces his L’s like W’s J)
Brooklynn and Silas are playing zoo in the confines of the boys’ room. Brooklynn is playing the part of every zoo animal splendidly, and apparently all the cages of this expansive zoo are found just behind the Spiderman sheet draped in front of Silas’ bottom bunk.
Silas is having a conversation with Brooklynn, who, I forgot, is also the Head Zookeeper…
(Silas) “I can work here forever and ever and ever???!!!”
(Brooklynn, in a voice like Dora the Explorer) “Yes!!!!!!! We are so exciting!!! (‘exciting’ is how she says excited) Okay, but if you work here forever and ever it’s gonna be a lot of work. You will have to sweep ALL the floors, fix the cages, and feed all the animals.”
“And then when you’re done, you can look at the animals.”
This doesn’t seem like all it’s cracked up to be… but it’s probably just me.