A little white whale on the go

Maeve, just like her sister Reilly, appreciates routines. One such routine takes place when I take Maeve to her daycare in the morning. Maeve is usually upset for some reason or another, be it leaving her sister, leaving her mommy or just generally having the morning crabbies. As I get her into her seat, I ask her if she wants me to play Baby Beluga, and this always calms her down and refocuses her attention. After I clip her in, I fulfill my promise, and Raffi’s voice fills the car. This keeps her happy until we reach our destination.

Lately, Maeve has been communicating fairly well with us, and this morning, when Baby Beluga ended she started fussing, and I heard her say “Baby! More!” I asked her if she wanted me to play Baby Beluga again, and she said, “Yes!”

I clicked the CD back a track, Baby beluga began, and Maeve, quite satisfied with the transaction, clapped her hands.

Can you please get your PJ's on?

One thing I have learned since becoming a parent: I really, really hate to repeat myself.

The King

Today I called the bank and was put on hold. The usual, “Your call is important to us and we will be with you in a minute” spiel came on every minute or so. About 13 minutes in, I was getting frustrated. Around 15 minutes, I came to a critical decision point: I could admit defeat and hang up, or hang on till the bitter end. I decided to stick it out. I wasn’t letting some bank queue outlast me.

At about the 25-minute mark, I abruptly hung up.

It’s Martin Luther King Day.

The bank is closed.

Co-pilot

This afternoon I got in my car and since it was warm from the sun, I rolled down the windows as I pulled away. It was the end of the workday so I was distracted and mentally tired and very ready to get home. As I pulled onto 4th street I hit the radio and hit the gas, and the cool afternoon air flooded the car and with a gust picked up a bougainvillea flower that Reilly has placed on my dash. The flower circled the cabin a few times before resting in the passenger seat next to me, and it was as if she was there with me, a little paper heart fluttering down by my side.

If you give a Maeve a cookie

This evening I was summoned to the kitchen by Maeve, who was standing in front of the pantry. She was pointing up at the shelves and whining for something to eat. Reilly used to do this when she was the same age, and it drives me as crazy now as it did then.

Since Maeve can’t tell me what she wants, I pick up item after item and say, “Do you want this?” until my increasingly irritated child acquiesces. In this case, I hit on the magic item after passing over the goldfish and veggie booty—it was the cookies.

I said, “Do you want a cookie?” and Maeve said, “Yes.” (I already miss Maeve’s old way of saying yes, which was a Jersey-ish “Shyeah.”)

I gave Maeve a cookie, and then she said, “Reiree?”

And I said, “You want a cookie for Reilly too?”

And she said, “Yes.”

I gave her the cookie and she dutifully walked it into the living room and handed it over to her sister.

Shawn, from the other room—overhearing it all—said, Aww!

A Christmas Story

When I was in elementary school, the administration would host a little holiday fair every December where the kids could shop for presents for their parents and siblings. Most items were under $5 and included a mishmash of inexpensive and mostly useless knickknacks.

I don’t remember anything I bought for my family, but I do remember feeling very smart and independent as I carefully chose the gifts for my family.

This year, as a first grader, Reilly went "shopping" at her school holiday “store,” where they had gifts for the K-2 graders to purchase for their parents and family. Here's what Reilly bought this year, along with her explanation for each gift:

- Mommy: a packet of chocolate and coffee - "Her favorite food with her favorite drink."

- Daddy: a tool that even has pliers! - "So that daddy can take it with him fishing."

- Grandpa: peanut butter crackers - "So that when he's done building something, he can sit down and have a snack."

- Grandma: strawberry scented bath soap - "Because you know how grandma likes to be clean and healthy."

- Maeve: a towel - "Because she is always pulling down the towels, so now she'll have one of her own so she won't have to pull them down."

Imprint

The other day I met with a supporter of our organization at a local bistro. She’s a very passionate woman; a proud grandmother who takes care of her granddaughter every Tuesday and Thursday. The granddaughter has a rare disease which is very serious but under control.

The woman lives in an extraordinary home in a lavish neighborhood, a home that she carefully laid out and built over a decade ago. The foyer, she said, is full of large panes of glass that let in the sunlight from the coast, where the house rests.

She said when she has the granddaughter over to her house, the girl inevitably places her grubby palms on the glass and presses her nose and forehead against it to look outside at the water.

She said that the other day the granddaughter had misappropriated a yellow crayon and wrote faint waxy loops over a section of glass.

I said that kids sure can make a mess.

She said that a day or so later she looked at the glass and started laughing. She didn’t see the crayon or a mess, but rather happy remnants of a granddaughter who she loves with all her might, a granddaughter who might live until she is in her twenties, or might not.

Her husband went to wipe off the crayon and fingerprints, but she said, no, just leave them there a little longer.

December, Christmas, and all that Jazz

Happy New Year everyone! Christmas photos are finally up here.