patriotism

Today Lauren and I had this conversation in the car:

"Mom, a worm doesn't have a stomach, right?"

"It does have a stomach. And guess how many hearts an earthworm has."

"Ummm, one?"

"Nope."

"Five?"

"No. Ten!"

"Ten?" She was shocked. "He needs a lot of arms to say the Pledge of Allegiance."

Note: Turns out I was wrong about worms having stomachs. Technically, the have guts. Just in case you were wondering.

bellisima by blumarine

Lauren is a sensory child.

She chooses her clothes based not on looks, but comfort. Sock seams must align with toes. Pant legs must not "hug." Shirt collars should not brush against her neck. She prefers the texture of crocheted blankets, and the smell of one crocheted blanket in particular. Her right hand clutches the blanket and strokes it repetitively with her index finger. Her left hand holds the blanket to her nose while she inhales what appears to be pure comfort.

On Sunday, Lauren sat to the left of me. Half-way through the meeting, she started nuzzling my arm, rubbing her nose into my sleeve as if tracing its paisley pattern. I was amused at first, but after a few minutes I whispered, "Do you think you could get off my arm?"

"You smell good." I remembered I had tried a new perfume sample that morning and decided to let her enjoy it, which she did for the rest of the meeting.

This morning she climbed into our bed to get warm. She cuddled next to me and sniffed at my shoulder. "How do I smell?"

"Normal." So, for fun, I climbed out of bed and spritzed my arm with the perfume. I snuggled next to her and waited. As expected, her peacefully closed eyes opened wide, and her sleepy pout spread into a huge smile. "How did you do that?"

"It's perfume." I could see her wheels turning.

"Where do you keep that?"

"I'm not telling."

She snuggled up with my arm and seemed content to smell me. And I have to admit, I was pretty content being smelled.

Her blanket's got it good.

tender mercy

I was so tired last night, but I couldn't get to sleep. Instead, I lay awake thinking of everything I could be doing better. I worried that I'm not giving the girls enough of my time and attention, that they don't have enough fun, that in some ways they're not having the childhood I want them to have. Eventually, rest quieted my thoughts.

Then this afternoon, as Audrey and I walked hand-in-hand to pick up the girls from school, she suddenly said, "I love my life so much."

"What?" I asked, wondering what I'd heard. She repeated herself clearly.

"My life. I love my life."

And just like that, a tired mother's prayer was answered.

no such recipient

I found this series of emails in Ella's inbox. She tried to email a thank you to one of her teachers, but it was returned. I amused by her response:

what ever

- Show quoted text -

- Show quoted text -

Final-Recipient: rfc822; aicarodriguez@apsva.us
Action: failed
Status: 5.0.0
Diagnostic-Code: X-Postfix; host

aeschylus.groupwise.instruction.nds[158.59.252.67] said: 550 No such
recipient (in reply to RCPT TO command)

- Hide quoted text -

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Isabella Moore <isabella.j.moore@gmail.com>
To: aicarodriguez@apsva.us
Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2010 15:24:00 -0500
Subject: Thank you

Thank you thank you thank you for being A part of first grade !

take down

So, I haven't been feeling great lately and I'm maybe behind on a few things.

Last week our landlords hired a crew of 14 Virginia country boys to take down two huge, dead trees in our backyard. We had two guys in the tree tops with chainsaws dangling from their belts, cutting branches that were lowered to the ground by ropes held by four or five other guys charged with keeping the branches from crashing into our house. It was awesome. I thought it would be fun to let the girls sit on our bed upstairs and eat popcorn while they watched the spectacle.

When we picked Ella and Lauren up from school I asked, "Guess who's at our house?" I must have seemed pretty excited because Ella immediately yelled, "The Poulsens!" (They're our good friends who moved away last summer.)
"No. Guess again."
"Grandma and Grandpa!"
"No." I was beginning to realize I'd oversold this a bit.
Lauren beamed, "You got us a puppy!"
"Wow. No."
With pure excitement, Ella announced her next guess: "Someone is doing our laundry!"

early recruiting

As we drove to the grocery store, Ella asked me, "Mom, do you think I get can into BYU?"
"Sure," I told her, "if you do your best and get good grades."
"But I heard it's getting really hard to get in."
"I don't think you need to worry about it."

It was quiet for a minute while she thought about her chances, then said, "Well, I guess if I don't get into BYU I can always go to college in my pajamas."
"What?"
"You know, college in my pajamas. On the internet."
Lauren decided to help me out, "She saw it on TV."

Which made me wonder, are they really airing online college commercials during episodes of Spongebob Squarepants? Phineas and Ferb? MythBusters?