Navigating the hilly terrain of motherhood
Only in Maine do people flock to the beach in 50-degree, partly sunny weather. But there's something exciting, and a little romantic, about splashing around in your rubber boots and winter coat. Or standing barefoot at the water's edge until your toes freeze, then burying your feet in the warm, dry sand. It means that the real beach days are just around the corner. And they're going to be a lot of fun.
At bedtime tonight, after kissing my hand, Grace said: "Tomorrow, when I'm at school and you miss me, you can just put your hand on your cheek and think, 'Gracie loves you, Gracie loves you.' And when you wash your hands a lot, it won't wash off, because it's in your heart.'"
Sometimes I can't believe what a big heart that little kid has.
We have spent countless hours outside in the past few days — rain or shine — because the snow is finally melting (!!) and the girls have rediscovered their swingset. More specifically, Grace has figured out how to swing really high without any help, and Tess has simply figured out that she really likes swinging. Today it was 48 degrees and partly sunny, and the girls ate their lunch outside in the "tower." They invented a game called "boombah," which seemed to consist of Grace sliding headfirst down the slide, and Tess catching her at the bottom. Tess thought this was hilarious. She also loves it when Grace does an "underdog" — pushing Tess really high on the swing, then running under it while saying "woof, woof!" We still have a lot of snow in the yard, but we also have wonderful, beautiful, joyous patches of muddy grass. And Tess has new rain boots. Yep, we're loving mud season.
Yesterday as I walked down the stairs, the strap on my beloved blue Crocs suddenly broke, causing me to trip and land with a big thud. This morning Grace noticed the loose strap, and decided she'd like to repair it for me. "I'm a good fixer," she said. She triumphantly returned a couple of minutes later, with the errant strap painstakingly Scotch-taped back onto the shoe. Very sweet, but not particularly effective. However, I find it adorable that Grace firmly believes that anything can be fixed — or created — using Scotch tape. She very clearly gets this from my grandfather, Gran-Gran, who was well known for his ability to fix — or create — anything using epoxy. Gran-Gran and Grace would have gotten along famously.
I am one of those people who has nightmares about losing teeth. Usually I'm in a car crash and I hit my face on the dashboard (and no, I'm not driving). I have an irrational fear that I'm going to somehow cause irreparable damage to my smile. This probably stems from the fact that I had major, painful orthodontic work done (including extractions of adult teeth) as a youth. Or maybe it's because I watched a friend lose a big chunk of her front tooth because of another friend's irresponsible antics. However, it probably has more to do with the fact that the McNallys seem to have bad dental karma — Adam has titanium implants that have caused him quite a bit of suffering, and even more money. So, whenever one of the girls falls and cries, my first instinct is to check her teeth.
About a month ago at a school potluck, I was watching as Grace and Tess collided. It was quickly apparent that Grace was in pain, but several minutes went by before she would remove her hand from her mouth so we could check her out. My knees became jelly when I saw that part of her front tooth had been pushed back behind the other front tooth. The school nurse determined that the tooth was not loose (what?!) and did not need medical attention. This was a relief to Grace, who was still hysterical, and remained so until we put her in bed. The next morning, miraculously, the tooth was back in place. By the time we took Grace to the dentist 9 days later, the injured tooth was slightly discolored due to the damaged root, but this was apparently not a cause for concern. The dentist informed us that it would probably not get any darker, and that only about 2% of these kind of injuries require an extraction. Phew… But since then, the tooth has gotten considerably darker, and is an odd purplish-brown, although it's still not loose — yet. So now, instead of dreaming about car crashes, I have nightmares about Grace needing to have her front tooth pulled instead of losing it the romantic, old-fashioned way. And I suppose none of this is really that big of a deal. Obviously I need to take a cue from my wise 5-year old, who says, "I'm glad my tooth is brown. It makes me unique."
What do cats do when they're bored? They go skiing, of course! And then they call their cat friends and put on a skiing performance. I don't have the heart to tell these kitties that all of the snow is melting… but I'm guessing they like to water ski, too.
Travelingjenny 