Things I Loved Today

1. Emma did Carys' hair in the bathroom this morning. In a kind, helpful, sisterly fashion, and neither of them got mad at each other for any reason, large or small. (This is rare.)

2. We left the house AHEAD of schedule and had time to stop for a morning treat on the way to school. (This is also rare.)

3. When we got to school, Cooper had trouble gathering his things on the way out of the car; Carys went back to lend a hand. (This is so rare I'm not sure it has ever happened before. I think her benevolence could have been a result of Emma's earlier sisterly love.)

4. I got an unsolicited hug from each child before I left them. Cooper came back for seconds.

5. We got to play video games all hour every hour in class today. (If my administrators are reading this, they were completely EDUCATIONAL in nature and I can prove it.)

6. The sun is shining, there's a home softball game after school and our Varsity Cardinals are killing it, so I am super excited to go watch them win another one.

Lucky Number 7: I found a twenty in my jeans pocket that I forgot I had. 

Life is GOOD. 

A Sonnet of Summer

As we prepare for the practice seasons to begin for all our summer activities, I shall pay tribute to Elizabeth Barrett Browning with an ode to my children.

Sonnet of Summer

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and the breadth of my pocketbook

     (As I shell out registration fee after registration fee)

I love thee to the level at which I must tolerate concession stand food

     (And the sunburn on the tops of my feet and my thighs from sitting

       on scorching hot bleachers under a coating of fine dust from the field)

I love thee as freely as you volunteer me for team duties

     (Though I do sharpen my math skills working in the concession stand

       and hone my interpersonal relationships selling raffle tickets

I love thee with the passion I see you display when you're catching, 

       tumbling, running, biking, building, wakeboarding, swimming,

       tubing, playing, LIVING

I love thee in the stillness of the night 

     (While you sleep the deepest sleep and dream of tomorrow's 

       adventures and I ponder how we will pay for their privilege

       or find the hours in the day to attend them)

I love thee with a love that transcends the small things like money and time

     (Which you will fully comprehend someday when you raise children

       of your own)

I love thee with the breath, smiles, and tears of all my life, and; God willing,

I shall but love thee even better when we win the lottery and I can quit my job

       and follow you to the ends of the Earth 

       lawn chair under my arm, 

       water bottle in my hand

       sunflower seeds in my bag

       visor on my head

       love in my heart.

I Have A Question

Remember the days when you could ask your child a simple question and get a simple response? Remember when conversations were delightful ways to develop bonds between family members? Ah, those were the days.

Parent-child questioning and civilized discourse in our household has recently been replaced by impassioned argument, faulty logic and unsupported rhetoric. It seems there is no easy answer to any question anymore: some questions have no answers and some are answered with simply a vacant stare or casual eye-roll. My kids are getting really good at constructing weakly supported responses and employing poor reasoning skills in answering me. I look forward to discovering how my children will one day put these skills into some useful endeavor, since they are becoming so good at it. Let's recap the week so far:

Who ate the marshmallows out of the Marshmallow Mateys and left only cereal? (No one, apparently; the manufacturer has cleverly packaged the cereal so that the last 1/3 of the bag doesn't actually contain marshmallows at all.)

Whose Kindle is on Mom's charger? (Since both Kindles are identical and we can't discover their identities until they have been recharged and turned on, we will shout loud accusations at each other in the meantime.) Update: Carys' Kindle. She swears she didn't do it despite forensic evidence to the contrary. Either way, Mom is unplugging it because she NEEDS her charger.

Where are the actual chargers for the Kindles? (*simultaneous shrugging*)

Who left their bike outside in the rain? (Everyone, but they cannot be faulted for this because Mom said come in to dinner NOW and they didn't want to disappoint her by taking too long to make it to the supper table.)

Why is Cooper's bed broken? (He "fell" on it. In just one corner. With enough force to rip the nails out of the footboard. It was an accidental fall, he DID NOT JUMP ON IT.)

Who has homework tonight? (*chirping crickets*)

Why are there candy wrappers from Easter baskets stuffed between the couch cushions? (Cooper says Carys did it, Carys says Emma did it, Emma says Cooper did it, Mom says hand over the rest of your candy right now, all three of you.)

Where are all the bath towels? (In closets, drawers, under beds and in the hamper in the upstairs bathroom, but absolutely no one put them there.)

Whose cup of dirty paint-water is sitting on the bathroom sink with  paintbrushes in it? (Cooper's. He can't wash out the brushes. He just can't. Because he can't. Because he CAN'T. Go ahead and throw them away. He's done with them. The green one is already hard and crusty.)

Who left the sand bucket out on the beach? (Carys.) 

Who is going to go out and get it? (Not Carys, because even though she was the last to play with it, she didn't get it out of the garage, Cooper did, so he should go and get it and also she isn't wearing any shoes. And not Cooper because even though he got it out, he was not the last person to play with it, so he is not going outside after dark to pick it up and also he is eating right now. And not Emma because she wasn't even outside after school and anyway, she is sick and tired of picking up after the little kids all the time and also she does have homework, as she suddenly remembers.) 

I used to be fairly well-versed in public discourse, but my children are my kryptonite; I find myself resorting to sweeping generalizations and slippery-slope mentality as I attempt to find answers to my questions. "I don't care whose fault it is. I don't care who did it, or when they did it or how they did it or why. I don't care. Fix it. I don't care WHO fixes it. SOMEBODY FIX IT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD."

The only question I can ever ask safely:

Who wants ice cream? (The Dairy Freeze opens this weekend! Hallelujah!)