mama vs. papa: friendship

Zoralee's big pretend world right now is Madeline. She's Madeline, and either the dog or I is Miss Clavel. Often "Miss Clavel" is knocking at our front door, and when Zoralee opens it, in walks a waggy-tailed Kaladi. Ziah is either Pepito, the little boy in the stories, or he represents the other 11 girls who live with Madeline at the boarding school. So if Ziah is sleeping, the other 11 girls are sleeping, and suddenly Zoralee takes extra care to be quiet. Since Madeline has a Papa, Jason is still just Papa. (But as a side note, she has taken to calling him Pops lately.)


today


Zoralee: Mama, can you ask me, Madeline, what's wrong?
Me: What's wrong, Madeline?
Zoralee: Pepito doesn't want to be my friend anymore.
Me: Oh really? Did Pepito say that?
Zoralee: No. 
Me: Well, maybe you could talk to Pepito. Ask him why he doesn't want to be your friend.


5 minutes later, when Jason enters the room


Zoralee: Papa, can you ask me, Madeline, what's wrong?
Jason: What's wrong, little miss Madeline?
Zoralee: Pepito doesn't want to be my friend anymore.
Jason: Well, you can tell Pepito to suck your big toe.
 

eavesdropping

These are the best years of your life. Remember that.

Everybody with older kids or grown up kids says things like, "They grow so fast," and "Enjoy every minute, because time flies." I didn't necessarily agree with those sentiments (at least, regarding parenthood) until after Zoralee had turned one. Honestly, her first year totally crept by. Not that I didn't enjoy much of it, but there was so much adjustment, so much to learn, so little sleep, that it felt a lot longer than a single year. But her second year and now Ziah's first couple months are really starting to fly, and it's giving me that sobering sensation that this is it, this is life, this is my children's childhood, and I don't want to let it slip away uncherished.

For the past few days, Ziah has been drooling like crazy, fidgeting a lot during sleep, and sucking his fingers more. Barb (mom-in-law) suggested that though it's early, he could be teething. Well, tonight I felt his bottom gum line, and sure enough, there is the slightest hint of sharpness! What a slap to my sense of time! That was actually an impetus to blogging tonight and inspiration for the myriad other tasks I have in mind for improving our quality of life and getting down in writing, video collage, or what-have-you the things I want to say and remember.

"These are the best years of your life. Remember that." When Zoralee was six months old, I was holding her in my arms, and a kindly bearded gentleman looked me in the eye and said that. Ever since, I've given so much thought to that line. I understand the truth in what he said, and I try to revel in each day's light, but I also believe (without proof) that there is beauty to be encountered in nearly every season, and enlightenment about yourself and those you love, and closeness to God, and other things that would deem a year "best," even years without young children, even whole lives lived without young children. I want to think that we go from strength to strength, one best year to another best year, even when some of the best years are awful. Thing is, that man might've been right, and I won't know until it's nearly over, until I'm sitting there looking back on my life. And so, for now, I'm considering this one of the best years of my life, and I have two kids who do a pretty good job of reminding me how true that is.

"I refuse to read this book until someone turns it upright."

"Thank you. Now then, is that a simple silhouette
of a white bird on a black surface?! Genius!"