Navigating the hilly terrain of motherhood
Last weekend, on my birthday, we went boating with friends of ours. It was a picturesque day, and we stopped at an island to do some exploring. This made us hungry, of course, so after the boat ride we stopped at Toots and ate hot fudge sundaes for lunch. Seriously, could a birthday in Maine be more perfect than that?
Grace: "We just want to be together (grabs Tess's swing)…. No, we don't like to be apart (lets go of Tess's swing)… We just like to be together!"
[And in case you're wondering, yes — that's a self-made beak taped to Grace's nose. More on that later.]
We spent the last weekend in July with our good friends who were visiting Cape Cod. We hung out at the beach, ate fresh lobster, watched a show (Tess made music by blowing bubbles in her milk, while Grace and Jackson blew on bottles), and just enjoyed each other's company. It's nice having friends.
Recently Tess has been taking an interest in the goings-on at the barn. It started with wanting to watch Grace groom the horse, which was followed by wanting to pet (and hug) the horse. Now, Tess wants to help Grace do the grooming. And on Friday, Tess put on a helmet and asked Grace's instructor if she could ride the horse, too. Before I could blink, there was little Tess, perched on top of the horse, being led around the ring by her big sister. And of course, they had matching grins — huge grins.
Today we went to a fairy festival at the Coastal Botanical Gardens in Boothbay. It was lovely — the girls made crowns and wands, explored the gardens, and listened to live music. The fun continued after we got home, and my little fairies decided to water the plants in the yard.
Then they played basketball, with a soccer net set up behind the hoop to catch wayward balls (these fairies are geniuses!).
When the fairy garb became too cumbersome for the serious game they had going on, the fairies put on their basketball uniforms. They called themselves the "zebra girls," and Grace made zebra faces that she then taped to the back of their shirts. Oh my goodness.
I'm not sure I've ever seen Tess laugh that hard before. And don't worry, Grace knows she's not supposed to go down slides headfirst. Of course, that doesn't stop her.
This is sweet Penny, our "new" dog. She's a rescue from Louisiana, driven up to Maine with nine other dogs who had all been cared for by the same generous foster mother. Penny was a stray and had heartworms and ear mites when she was found. They said that she's a dachshund/terrier mix, but our vet refused to even hazard a guess. And it doesn't really matter, because she's perfect. She's sweet and calm and quiet and playful — all of the things we were hoping for. Her favorite thing to do is to flop over onto her back to have her tummy rubbed. And apparently, she likes to be read to by six-year olds. Like I said — she's perfect.
If you've been to my house lately, say in the past three years, you may have noticed a few million pieces of child artwork scattered around. Our fridge is plastered with drawings and hand-painted magnets. There are piles of artwork in the loft, the guest room, the master bedroom, and even on the poor little art table. The truth is, I'm a softy, and I can't bear to get rid of this wonderful evidence of my children's creativity and imagination. And I'm just sure that someday, when they're older, we'll spend an entire afternoon pouring over these art archives, studying how their skills progressed. Pretty much every day, each one draws a picture, either for me or for a friend. These pictures are thoughtful and sweet (see Tess's canoe, above). Tess always writes her name (so cute, with squiggly S's!) and Grace generally writes something as well, adding to the charm of her artwork.
The bottom line is, my two budding artists are prolific, and I love every single thing they create. Well —almost everything. Occasionally, after they've gone to bed and I am trying to unearth myself from the chaos of the day, I may recycle a drawing or two on the sly. Only the ones that weren't their best efforts, or that were supposed to mean something but I can no longer remember what the meaning was. This doesn't seem to be a problem, as the girls rarely ask me what I've done with a certain piece of art. But today, I had the full recycle bin sitting in the hallway, waiting to be taken out to the garage. Tess walked by and noticed one of her recent drawings in the bin. She nearly cried. "Why did you throw it away? I wanted you to keep it," she said, in her saddest little four-year-old voice. I told her I had no idea how it got in there, but that she better pull it out so that I could do a better job of hiding it add it to my collection.
Can any of you tell what this is? Because I have no idea.
Travelingjenny 