Thursday, April 8, 2010

Hike

Today, I went for a hike with John in tow. The light was perfect, shining on the pines and clearing out my head.





Wednesday, April 7, 2010

A Forgotten Goodbye

Today, I made my littlest girl cry. Of course, she cries often. She's three. And often, one way or another, I'm the source of her cry. But today, I let her down.

There was no great consequence. And it was a small mistake. When I drop her off at preschool, I stay for "5 minutes and a bonus." (A third-time-around ritual.) When time's up, we hug and kiss at the Goodbye Window. Then I go out the door, over to the Window, and she talks about pick-up time through the pane. Will I get her before I get Clara or after? She's happy, and I go.

June generally is happy. She's confident in a way that the others were not at preschool. Will and Clara had some obvious and unusual coping mechanisms. Will sat on a stump for entire days. Clara hid behind my skirt up until her last day. June, however, stepped right in and enjoyed it. In her sweet life, she is pretty much with me, or she's at school two short mornings a week. The transitions are smooth. She just needs our rituals.

Today, I just forgot. I got preoccupied talking to parents, paying my bill, thinking about what I was going to do that morning, thinking about something small. Twenty plus minutes later, I look up as I'm backing out, and there's June. Climbing out of the window, into the arms of her teacher. Sobbing. Hurt. Crushed. She waited the entire 25 minutes. She knew I'd be there. And I forgot.

I felt a ton of bricks in my chest. The teacher passed her off to me, and I brought her into the car and cuddled her until the sobs stopped. Time passed, and she chose to stay. I had a second chance.

With June, as with the others, I am guilty of my own pretend play. I pretend that no one has to be let down. Really let down. By loved ones or not. We talk about things, like their grandfather's death, or a hurt bird, or missing parents in a book. Disappointment creeps in. We get windows to sadness. To loss. To suffering. But we're always on the safe side of the window.

Today, she looked for me through that little window, and I forgot her. It was just an instance. A small, uncomplicated instance of how we let each other down.

June is fine. She knows I love her like crazy. And I've moved on, too. We all try. I just wish I had remembered.

Here is the Goodbye Window and my sweet girl on better days.




Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Hiding Places

Today, John made hiding places for:
a sticker (under his chin)
a sock (in his pants)
a kids porcelain sugar bowl (in his pants - dropped out at dinner )
a piece of spinach (in his mouth for 3 hours today - through breakfast, a stroll, a nap)

This picture is from our Mexico trip, but it seems fitting.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Big Climb

Today, little Clara made a big climb. That's her in blue at the top of the climbing wall!

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Egg Tree Part II, and Easter

Today, after a brief moment of snow, we joined neighbors at the park to hunt for color coded Easter eggs. John slept most of the time, while Clara and June confiscated his eggs.



We made scones, eggs, and fruit for brunch, and made a centerpiece with some hyacinths.



We finished (for the most part) two Egg Trees...


I've wanted to get a picture of those inverted knuckles for a long time!

We ended the day with worms, gardening, timed loops around the house, timed bikes up the sidewalk, and soccer in the street. Sounds almost like the Fourth of July, minus that snow!


Saturday, April 3, 2010

Egg Tree Part I


We made a start at our third annual Easter Egg tree today. Step one involved blowing eggs, glueing sequins, and assembling a tree.




Friday, April 2, 2010

Bird and Flower Cut-outs


Today, I made about a million flower and bird cut-outs for June's school. The preschoolers will add watercolors and then we'll use them for decorations at the upcoming auction. I had to add eyes onto the birds, so no one would confuse them with leaves. (Is that possible??)