As Zoe got ready for school this morning (her first day back from spring break), I heard her talking from the other room. “Avery,” she scolded her sister (in her Little-Mommy voice), “you aren’t being proactive.” She paused and then continued: “Proactive is when you’re not asked to make your bed – you just do it.”
Sadly, Avery ignored her sister and didn’t make her bed – but I was still impressed that Zoe tried to get her to. (And I didn’t even know she knew that word!)
And another spring-break video: This one a Frozen-inspired song that Zoe and family sang on Passover (and further proof of the reach of this movie).
Another fun thing Avery did for her break: Go to a one-day PE/dance camp. The video below captures part of her day, and I’m thinking – based on the 1:02 mark - that softball might be in Avery’s future.
This week is the girls’ spring break, and when I heard that one of their favorite bands was giving a free concert at a nearby library I circled the date on our calendar. The three of us headed to see the Alphabet Rockers yesterday; not only did the duo sing the girls’ favorite song (“Food Calculator”) but they also posed for a pic. (And look how much bigger Zoe is than when she first met them!)
While driving home from school with the girls the other day, another drive cut me off. I mumbled about it, and Avery piped up from the backseat, “He’s an a-hole” (though she used the whole word). Horrified, I quickly told Avery that we shouldn’t say that word and that if she heard Mommy say it before I was sorry – I shouldn’t have said it. Later, when I told Q the story (and Avery was out of earshot), I asked Zoe, “I don’t say that word that much, do I?” She shrugged and said, “Maybe once a week or every other.” “No way - I don’t say it that often!” I squealed. “It’s okay, Mommy,” Zoe comforted me. “We’re working on it.”
Tuesday night was the first night of Passover, and we hosted a Seder dinner here. The highlight for the girls (aside from singing the Four Questions)? Reuniting with their cousin Isaac.
And while Q and Avery were away on Saturday, Zoe and I spent much of our day (after a quick shopping expedition) preparing Passover food in the kitchen. Zoe was a great sous chef – gathering and measuring ingredients and prepping for each recipe. I couldn’t help but smile when she looked up from grating potatoes (not an easy task) and said to me, “Mommy, this is sooooo much fun. Seriously – I’m so glad I didn’t go to the baseball game.” And, later: “I never knew cooking could be so much fun!”
I think a new tradition has been made.
Q took Avery to the Giants game on Saturday. She had a lot of fun, Q reported, and had no problem watching all nine innings. And I had to laugh before they left, when she insisted on wearing a tulle skirt – not your normal baseball-watching attire – to the game. (Hey, at least it matched her new pink Giants shirt.)
I totally believe in signs from the universe. I received a rainbow-related one (which I’ll share here someday) a few weeks ago, and I was hit with another one just last night.
I was having a tough evening: It started with me not being able to find something I had just bought (a skirt for Avery) and ended with me ranting and raving to the girls about how messy the house was and how impossible it was to keep track of anything amidst all our clutter, etc. etc. Zoe, tired and grumpy herself, wound up in tears – and by the time I got her and Avery in bed I was feeling guilty and lousy. (And still irritated with the state of our house, which, admittedly, wasn’t even that messy.)
I flopped on the couch and grabbed my phone to read, and the very first thing sitting in my RSS Reader was a poem from a mommy blogger I follow – something she was posting, she wrote, ”to encourage those of you moms who are feeling weary right now.” Feeling weary indeed, I started reading:
If I live in a house of spotless beauty with everything in its place,
but have not love,
I am a housekeeper not a homemaker.
If I have time for waxing, polishing, and decorative achievements,
but have not love,
my children learn cleanliness not godliness.
If I scream at my children when they don’t follow instructions,
get frustrated and fault them for every mess in our house,
and have no grace and love
my children learn that Mom cares more about having things done exactly her way
than about listening to the needs and hearts of her children.
Love leaves the dust in search of a child’s laugh.
Love smiles at the tiny fingerprints on a newly cleaned window.
Love wipes away the tears before it wipes up the spilled milk.
Love picks up the child before it picks up the toys.
All the projections I had for my house and my children
have faded away into insignificance,
And what remain are the memories of my kids.
Now there abides in my home scratches on most of the furniture,
dishes with missing place settings,
and bedroom walls full of stickers, posters, and markings,
But the greatest of all is the love
that permeates my relationships with my children.
So it’s a little dramatic and a lot mushy, but I’ll take it. It was a cosmic reminder, I think, of what really matters.