Our children are both perfect angels. All the time. Except sometimes they’re, um, not. Lately, Lucy has been using some of her allotted “non-angel hours” to throw tantrums. And when I say tantrum, I don’t mean “I’m a two year old and I’m asserting my independence so I won’t let you put me in my car seat, I insist on getting in by myself” tantrums. I mean “I’m a five year old and I can hit, kick, scream, throw things with good aim and become inconsolably furious in 2.2 seconds if you dare to tell me that ‘no’ we’re not…
Mattie has been a part of my life since my mother was three years old. She took care of us all. She took care of everybody. The number of people who feel as though Mattie “belongs” to them is staggering. Every time we went to visit her (which was, of course, not nearly enough), her house was abuzz with people. Some were living with her, some were visiting, some popped in to fix the tile in the bathroom, some brought lunch. But we were never alone. And Mattie loved it that way. “This my baby’s baby,” is how she would…
Bob and I are sitting in the living room. Zoe and Lucy are back in their bathroom or somewhere near it. Suddenly we hear a crash and the girls laugh loudly. Lucy (running out of the bathroom): “Whoa!!! Now that was a experiment!!!” (She looks up and sees us.) “Mama. Me and Zoe are gonna need smocks!!!” + + + Illustration from one of our favorites, The Orange Book, by Richard McGuire.
There’s been a lot going on here that has me wanting to write non-stop yet has also kept me from writing. So many things that I’m worried this post is going to just turn into a {yawn} list which is not what it is in my head. Plus, lots of the things that have been happening as a part of the cumulative “all of it” are actually things I want to tell you about on their own, not lumped in with other things. But I’m feeling myself unable to write any of it in a catch-22 sort of way. Should…
I share this with you. It made me laugh when I saw it on Amazon: Have a great weekend friends. I look forward to sharing a real post with you soon.
Is that not the most sweet-looking, handsome, sixtysomething man you’ve ever seen? I agree. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my dad and today is his birthday. No. I would tell you that any time of any day of the year. This man, my father, is the sweetest man I have ever known. And kind. And funny. And handsome. And smart? Shoo-wee is he smart. And helpful. And loving. And huggy. And kissy. And the passer-on of the red hair. And the checker-upper on the oil changing of our ole Subaru. And the make-surer the kids are inside…
This is yet another one of those “twin” things that I am constantly amazed by. Unplanned synchronicity. Lucy is working on her sticker book. Zoe, sitting nearby, is working on her sticker book. One of them starts singing. The other joins in. They continue for like 30 minutes or 42 hours, I’m not sure which. Together. Without looking up once, and with no discussion of any singing game plan. To sing. That’s the unspoken plan. In unison, in succession, loudly, quietly. Whatever — just sing. (Click here to view the movie at Vimeo.)