helper

I spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, preparing for Sunday dinner guests. Kim was out home teaching, which left me feeling a little short-handed. Ella and Audrey were napping, and I thought Lauren was, too, until she wandered into the kitchen in her underwear holding her blanket. "Can I help you, Mom? I love to help." I was already watching the clock and didn't feel like I could afford to be distracted, so I said,
"Not really, honey, but thanks for offering." She watched me quietly for a couple of minutes and then said again, "I really love to help you, Mom."
"Okay," I told her, and came up with a couple of small jobs to do. As she did them, she chimed, "I sure love to be in the kitchen with you, Mom. I like to help. But I mostly like to be here with you."
She watched as I poured the milk mixture over my tres leches cake, and told me, "You make the best cakes, Mom! They taste so good. But they're also made with a lot of love."

I needed that.

prelude

Ella requested some help getting ready for her piano recital. She asked me to paint her nails and curl her hair. And she shyly suggested that maybe she could wear a little blush. And maybe . . . some lip gloss? I was happy to oblige.

We sat at the dining room table and painted her nails a pretty pink that Ella commented made her fingers look like flower petals. Then we went upstairs to the bathroom where I took a deep breath and made my first attempt at styling Ella's thick mane with a curling iron. I sectioned her hair into three ponytails, each one of them with enough hair for any seven-year-old girl. Curling all of it took about 40 minutes, and Ella opted to pass the time with a Real Simple magazine from my nightstand. I watched her read entire articles with titles like, "Modern Manners: How do you ensure that the office won't bother you when you go on vacation?" and "Life Lesson: A mom bids a fond farewell to carpooling." My favorite was when she, while surveying Father's Day gift ideas, laughed out loud at how each of the featured alma mater-style gifts was from a school with a team in the Big 10 Women's Golf Championship.

After an hour of pampering, Ella's requests had been granted. She looked as beautiful as ever, but felt a little extra special. She was ready for her solo.

This photo was taken after the recital, when her heavy locks had lost most of their curl.
The ringlets were so pretty while they lasted!

essays

Ella had some free time at school today, so she wrote a couple of essays.

Pretending by Ella Moore

Pretending is using your imagong going be ond your drems. You can be a pirat, a mouse, a chef, a host, a factore worker, a princec, a super hero, a indan and much more. Some of your wildest dreams can come but you need the right tools. Not the kind of hamer kind of tool. The stick and ball kind. Pretending has come from cave man to cars from acent Rome to Obama. Pretending has came a long way. My sisters and I have done a lot of pretending. Still a lot of peopel pretend dayly. It is still a comen thing. Some games have pretending like Srades and Who am I. I like prentending. The End

Golf by Ella

Golf is a sport. It is very fun to play. But it is hard. First you learn abot the game. You learn about the profesonels. Then you get clubs. Then you learn the swing. The swing is very crucil. If you miss a move the ball will go in the oppuset direcson. If you are a pro and you tap the ball a teny bit it conts. Each hole has a par. A par is a estemet of the emout of hits. Let's say the par is 5 so if a player gets the ball in the hole in 4 shots he gets a eagel. If he gets the ball in the hole in 5 shots it's a . . . par! If he gets the ball in the hole in 6 shots he gets a Bogey. If he gets it in the hole in 7 shots a dobel Bogey and so on. My 3 favrote players are Tiger Woods, Fil Nicelson and KJ Choy who just won the PGA tore. I am going to a tornemet too in June. I will be abel to see my favrot playres ther and I will be happy! I wont to be a pro when I grow up and my dad will be my caty! The end.

fine print

As souvenirs from Arizona, the girls each got a geode with instructions that read:

So you think this looks like an ugly rock? Well, break it open and see what Mother Nature has created -- beautiful crystals in all colors and forms. Use care opening. Leave geode in bag and tap gently with hammer to open.

The girls and I sat on the driveway while each of them took a turn opening their geode. Ella started out by "tapping gently" but soon turned to hammering with all her strength. After two or three minutes without success she turned to me and asked, "Somewhere on the instructions are there tiny letters that say, 'Results may vary?'"

H2. . .oh

As I cleared the dinner dishes, Audrey approached me, her extended arm holding what was left of her water. "Thanks," I told her, and turned to dump it in the sink.

"It's fo yo baby," she informed me.

"Hmmm, " I said as I surveyed the swirling backwash and continued to the sink. "Thanks."

"It's FO yo BABY," she said again, louder this time. She had a determined look.

"You mean . . . you want me to drink it?" I asked her.

"Yes." She waited.

I put the cup to my mouth and pretending to drink. "Mmm, thank you!"

"You welcome," she sang, and skipped away.

Post-edit: Audrey observed recently, "You baby likes soda."

breakfast table

The girls surprised us by setting the table for breakfast and even making toast! I don't know which part is my favorite -- the single strawberry on each plate, or the yogurt pyramid.

shenanigans

Guess who got a toddler bed this weekend?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsB3oL0WesE

royal confusion

The girls and I enjoyed watching William and Catherine's royal wedding this weekend.

When Lauren came downstairs and saw Ella and I watching, she asked what was going on. "That girl is marrying a prince," I explained, "and is about to become . . . a princess!"

She looked at me quizzically. "Mom, I thought you said fairy tales were not real."