Good morning

The first thing I heard this morning was "Mommy... you make my heart happy."  I don't know where A got this expression from, but I like it!  I'll take that over "good morning" any day. 

Just stay there and tell me I look beautiful

Ask and you shall receive.

Just a couple months ago, my daughter fell in love with dress-up. But with an older brother, her princess fantasies could not be realized with only batman, pirate, spiderman, fireman and superman costumes in the dress-up box.

Who knew a plethora of princess paraphernelia was on the way. Through a combination of garage sales, hand-me-downs from friends and merely one weak moment in the Target toy aisle, my daughter now owns 8 fancy princess dresses and three pink sparkly tutus. She is in heaven. The expression on her face after the dress is pulled down over her head is priceless every time. The dress transforms her. And in her toddler mind, she truly is a princess.

A garage sale also scored us a Barbie vanity table and bench with a light-up mirror for only $5 bucks! (I get a strange high at the thought of things being re-usable rather than landing in the landfill.) She has discovered that she can sit in front of the mirror and play out pretend stories (outloud - they are hilarious) for hours (well, actually like 30 minutes, but for uninterrupted toddler play that lets mommy get some work done, it feels like hours).

So here we are now with all these very frilly, very lacey, very poofy dresses and really no where to put them. Hung up, they take up half her closet and she can't reach them. In a box, they look careless and wrinkled. Alas, the closet-extender rods were found. I placed this gadget in her closet so the dress-up dresses could hang on a low rod that she could reach.

Being the organized girly-girl she is, A was very excited by the prospect of her most precious items being within reach. She helped pick up hangers for them and put them on the rod. Then stood back, looked at the dresses, tilted her head to the side and said "Hmmmm..." It was time to decide which one to wear to the ball.

She then launched into a pretending episode in which she was the mommy and I was the daughter. "Now, you put the dresses here. And you CAN'T wear those shoes outside, ok??" she demanded of me, echoing the jist of words I said earlier in the day as she wanted to wear her fancy pink polk-dotted patenleather shoes from grandma to play at the babysitter's this morning.

Still deciding which one to try on first, this very nearly 3-year-old walked into the closet and closed herself in to be alone with the dresses. I should note, it is not a walk-in closet. Maybe this is the way to choose an outfit; just pick one in the dark.

I was in the midst of cleaning the rest of her room and organizing the toys as she did this.
"A, don't lock yourself in the closet, honey, just bring the dress out here and I'll help you get it on," I say.

Still in her mommy-dictator-mode, A responded with "now you just stay there and tell me I look bootiful."

Those are some instructions I can live with.

In that simple, silly phrase, I see the basic core of what a daughter needs from her mom: to stick close-by (if not in sight) and provide unconditional support and love. Even when she just wants to sit by herself in the closet.

In my office

A and I hit the big community garage sale today. A bonanza of other people's trash gaining new life as treasures. Clothes piled two feet deep on tables and toys mounted on bleachers like a Little Tykes explosion. A very busy place with shoppers of all demographics sorting through to find the right size.

I grabbed shirts for Z, and scooped up 3T dresses for the winter and scored big on a new pink snow suit for A. She was patient in the stroller, actually singing "if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" The other shoppers smiled. But she got restless in the toy area. "I want that!"

"What is 'that'?" I asked. "You've got to tell me the color or something, so I can find it."

"THAT!!" the still-two-year-old screams.

"Which one?" the frustrated mommy says as this ping-pong conversation goes on seven more times.

I finally figure out she means the very large pink plastic Barbie vanity table and bench at the end of the other aisle. "Huh," I say and we make our way over to it. "A, this is so big, how will I get it out of here and where would we even put this?" I ask.

"In my office!" she exclaims, and the moms nearby chuckle.

I consider it. My girly-girl would truly love pretending in front of this adorable pint-size piece of furniture. A hunk of plastic, I could consider this recycling too. The tag on it says $30, but this is "Bag Day" of the sale, which means whatever you can fit into a bag goes out the door for $5. It's too big for a bag, but they lowered the price to $5. Hmmm... sold! "In her office" it will go.





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Red Peppers

There are only 3 vegetables Z will eat. Red peppers happens to be one of them. (broccoli and carrots are the other two and these are sincerely the only healthy things this child will eat! But the food battles are for another post)

I had chopped up red pepper on the cutting board exposing the seedy inside. Z zipped past the counter and stopped mid-stride once he saw the pepper. "Look at all those seeds!" he screamed. "Mom you should plant those! We'd be the red pepper store then and sell them! We'd sell them for a million dollars each and be rich!"
Love his enthusiasm!

Z has been in to selling lately as his school fundraiser has come around. And very into learning what everything costs and how much he can afford with his occasional earned $1.00. He is even volunteering to vacuum the house every week so he can earn a dollar. He blows it on a dollar store type toy every time. We're working on the concept of saving so you can get something better.

And I will have to explain that red peppers do not cost a million dollars.

I can see for miles

This morning, Z woke me up by cuddling up next to me and asking "remember the big buildings around the place where I got the big bat?" The day before, we went to Taste of Cleveland, a downtown festival where a former client of mine, who runs the event, treated Z to any prize he wanted. It turned out to be a blow-up bat as tall as daddy. Hmmm.

I said "yeah, you mean all the buildings downtown?" "Yes," he said. "If we climbed all the way to the top of them, could we see grandma and papa's house?" so cute. They live in Cincinnati. "No, sweetie, they're too far away." "What if we climbed up the Eiffel Tower?" "Still don't think so," I said. "What about the tallest building in the whole world, one that goes all the way up to the moon?" "I don't think there is a building that tall, buddy. You could see their house if you were in a plane, maybe."

Love these observations as Z tries to understand distance and spatial differences.

Every Little Girl's Discovery

My 2.75 year old daughter took my hand and said "I have to show you something!"

I had just gotten back from a job interview for a position I absolutely did not want. It was far away, way beneath my skill level and in an old, cluttered, tiny office. What was worse, it was a difficult interview. The kind where they put you in an uncomfortable spot just because they can. And all the while I'm thinking... did you even look at my resume? I am beyond qualified for this. But I digress! I was in a bit of a mood and didn't really want to play around, but this was obviously important to little A, so I let her lead me in my suit to a corner of the dining room.

She stopped, looked and me and pointed to a large glass frame. With wide eyes, she said "Mommy, your dress!" There was her mommy in a real princess dress. It was the most amazing thing to her. I smiled, "Oh, yes, honey that was mommy and daddy's wedding day. You get to wear a very special dress when you get married." "When you get married?" she asked. "Will I get to wear one?" "Of course," I said. she couldn't contain her excitement. And thus the seed of every little girls dreams of weddings and beautiful white dresses was planted.

I got to tell her that I was saving my wedding dress for her and someday she could try it on. As these words were leaving my lips it actually occurred to me that - I am in fact saving my dress for her. I'd never really thought about it before. I have a daughter now who might actually want to wear it. That is about as cool as getting to pick out the dress for the first time. Granted, styles will change and more than likely she will want her own, but nonetheless. It felt like one of those incredible mother-daughter moments.

"Can I try it on now?" she asked. "No, honey, it's too big for you now." The dress has been in it's preservation box for 11 years. (Despite a tornado throwing it from my bedroom into the backyard - the box and dress stayed intact! But that's another story.) I look forward to a day when we will break it out of its preservation status and let it surround a real person again. For now, we'll enjoy looking at the pictures.

Night Walks

Z turns the sweet on when he's alone with you. The loud, boisterous, attention-seeking jabs subside and he becomes contemplative, charming and curious. When he asks for alone time with me, I try to make it happen so I can see this side of him. He wanted to take a walk just with me after dinner even though the sun was only an inch from being down. I told him I had to give A a bath and put her to bed first. And he waited patiently all the while.

We walked around the long J that our street makes, taking note of the sound of crickets and katydids that we didn't hear the last time we took a night walk to look for lightening bugs. We decided the lightening bugs had gone hibernating and the crickets took their place. I love the sound of August. We caught sight of the first star in the sky and made a wish. It didn't take long for Z to share it, even though he worried a little it might not come true. He can't keep any secrets. (I can't ever tell him what's inside the presents I buy for his friends.) He's already planning his Christmas and birthday gift list and he wished for a trampoline. A couple days ago, he decided he wanted the small circular trampoline you can fit in the basement. Today, that has graduated to a giant trampoline that would go in the back yard. I'm not sure how generous Santa will be able to be this year though.

Further along on the walk he asked "will I still live with you when I'm 21?" I said "yes, you'll be in college and will come home during the summer and for Christmas break." He said "how old are you?" I said 36. "And you'll stay 36 when I'm in college?" he asked. Ha, ha, I only wish that was how it worked. He said "Oh, that's right, you're getting older too, but not growing any bigger, right?" He has always had trouble with the concept that adults have birthdays and get older, but don't grow taller every year like kids do. He doesn't understand how Papa can be older than Daddy when Daddy is taller than Papa. Or how he is bigger than Owen but Owen is older. We have this discussion a lot. I love the mysterious ways a child's mind unravels concepts like this. How they get stuck on learning some basic ideas, and fly through an understanding of many more complex issues. And I especially like the concept of me staying 36 until he goes off to college. :o)