Table Manners

Jane had the audacity to loudly make the following demand at dinner this evening:

"Someone give me some salad!"

Which of course caused Caleb and me to laugh our faces off.

Which did not please Jane.

Which caused us to laugh harder.

Which prompted Jane to shout,"No laughing!!" repeatedly. Interspersed with such statements as, "I didn't say laughing, I said salad!" and "This is not a joke!"

 Which caused such loud and raucous laughter from the rest of us Jane was sure we couldn't hear her correctly.

So she cupped her hand to her mouth and repeated, much more loudly than before, "I said NO LAUGHING!"

 Frustrated that her seemingly reasonable requests were being ignored, Jane raised her fork in warning. . .

Then proceeded to show her displeasure at the situation by banging her plate loudly until we all saw reason, coaxed a polite salad request from her, and went on with the meal.

 Olivia was taking mental notes.

This Moment. . .

Art and Introspection

We purchased a fabulous little easel from IKEA for Christmas, and I'm so glad. Because now I get to enjoy works of art like this one, a portrait of me done by my daughter Jane:

The picture is a little dark, so I've asked Jane to interpret her art verbally.

Me: What are those? (pointing to forehead)
Jane: Those are your wrinkles. And those are your "crazy eyes" and your "claws."

So lovely.

It also appears that I didn't do my hair again today, and that I may have a goiter growing under my chin. I should get that checked out.

Art is so illuminating. So is parenting.

Like Mother

I found this picture the other day. It is of my mom and dad and three oldest siblings. My brother Jon looks to be about 5, Jenny 3, and Wendy about 1. Then I had a mind-blowing realization. I am the same age as my mother in this picture. I have three children and a tall, dark and handsome husband.

All I'm missing is a sah-weet car and those killer horn-rimmed frames.
Oh yeah. . .and the class, beauty, wisdom, and grace of that wonderful lady.

Isn't she a classic beauty?

Happy Birthday Mommy.

This Moment. . .

I'm taking this invitation. Every friday I'll be sharing a single photo, no words, capturing one moment I want to remember from our week. If you feel so inspired, I'd love to see yours too. Happy weekend all.

Much Worse Today. . .

Don't look if you are opposed to violence against babies:

Take this, add a virus that has her hovering around 102 degrees and lying in a puddle on my lap all day, and things are looking pretty pathetic around here.

Get well soon, Lo Lo.

Shiner

Olivia had her first baby fight yesterday. . .
with the rim of the bathtub.

Top 2 reasons I am an awesome mom:

1) I let her stand in the tub.
2) I thought she looked so cute I flipped on the video camera and caught the hand-slip-face-smash on tape. Sorry, the graphic footage won't be airing on this family-friendly station.

You can't coach this kind of parenting, people. I really should win some sort of award.

Round Robin

Last summer I was out one evening jogging off some post-baby poundage. The loop I ran took me down a hill, around a park, up a large flight of stairs to the top of the hill and back down to the beginning.

I started up the stairs at the end of the first loop and saw a young man climbing up just ahead of me. I guessed him to be about 12 years old. The black t-shirt he wore stretched tightly across a plump back and bunched in taut folds above baggy jeans. A plentiful tummy moved side to side as he toddled up each step. Quite overweight, he struggled with the task.

Soon I was level with him and he turned to acknowledge me. Red and moist with exertion, and with a pained grin, he noted, "These stairs. . .are hard."

"Yeah, they're tough," I replied. I too was feeling the burn.

"I do these stairs. . .every day," he said.

"That's awesome," I said.

We reached the top and rounded a corner onto the street, heading back down the hill. He then set down a skateboard he'd been carrying under one arm and said,"Well, see you in a minute." His wheels whirred and clunked as he coasted away. He lapped me once on our loop and then caught up to me as I headed up the stairs a second time.

"It's good to get exercise," he announced. "I'm going to lose 50 pounds."

"Oh yeah?" I replied.

"Yep."

"Walk up and skateboard down, huh? Sounds pretty fun."

"Yeah, it's hard though. These stairs. . .are hard."

"Well good for you. You're doing awesome," I said.

"Thanks."

He rolled off again and I jogged down the hill and home. Caleb and I chuckled about my new friend and we named him Jeffrey. I saw Jeffrey from time to time on my way to the grocery store. There he'd be, coasting down the street wearing a pleasant expression.

Then autumn came, and then winter. And then today the sun was here with real intent, and the neighborhood woke up. And as I stood, painting the inside frame of my front bedroom window, I heard a whirring and a clunking from the street below. And there was Jeffrey, thin as a pin, rolling past my house. On his face a peaceful smile, no longer encumbered by pudgy cheeks on either side.

Well done Jeff. Well done.

I'm reminded of a little story I once read. Maybe you know it?