Mother's Day- minute by minute

There is a reason the Lord sent me Ella first.

She saved Mother’s Day.

She came through 110%.

I will admit I’ve been feeling rather sorry for myself sans husband, and I can’t exactly categorize this as the best Mother’s Day ever, but that little girl threw her heart and soul into making sure my day was great (with a little back-up support from Brian and my Mom. The flowers, lovingly sent by Brian...

And a breakfast in bed...cleverly orchestrated by my mother.)

Here's the run down:

5:45 am- I am awakened by Ella springing out of bed, running across her room, throwing open her door and running down the stairs. I hear a smattering of noises emanating from the kitchen: a chair being pushed back and forth across the floor. Dishes banging, drawers slamming. I had a small heads-up about this, so I sat tight in my bed, praying that there would be no broken glass or dishes. I soon hear her come slowly up the stairs, dishes rattling. She goes into her room, slamming the door shut (being quiet is not Ella’s forte).

5:50 am- her bedroom door swings open. Ella runs down the stairs. Silverware drawer is pulled open. She runs back up stairs, forgetting to close her door. I hear the unwrapping of plastic, tearing of packages and more dish rattling. Soon I hear footsteps.

Very, very slow footsteps.

Plastic cup falls, bouncing across the hardwood floor. Cup is retrieved. Plastic cup falls again, bouncing across the hardwood floor. Please, let Samantha sleep through this.

5:55 am- Ella slowly walks into my room, breathing heavily—so excited she’s going to burst at the seams. “Hi Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.” I smother her with kisses and appreciation. And the menu? Ella had carefully followed the plan laid out by my mom from the day before: A container of orange juice, a blueberry muffin, cereal bar and yogurt. With a carefully triangular-folded napkin on the side--it's her specialty--only used for fancy occasions.

I explain I can’t eat that whole breakfast myself. Ella climbs into bed with me and we drink orange juice, and share a blueberry muffin. Although I am relishing in this sweet moment with my daughter, I am missing Brian terribly who could have orchestrated this surprise for about two hours later. (Please excuse the poor early morning photography--I'm not at my best this time of day.)

6:25 am- Ella explains that she needs to get on to “surprise #2” for the day. And runs into her room.

6:30 am- Samantha awakens way too early for her own good.

7:05 am- I am led into Ella’s room where she has made her bed and put everything neatly in its place. She is also in her church dress. Without me asking. Followed by a dance performance to Barbie’s own soundtrack of Princess and the Pauper. (It is still WAY too early to be up on Mother’s Day.)

10:15 am- we are 5 minutes early to church, which NEVER happens. The secret to its success appears to be waking at 5:45am. I hope THAT will never happen again.

12:15 pm- Ella sings two Mother’s Day songs with the other Primary children at church. She belts out every word.

2:45 pm- A Mother’s Day card making frenzy ensues in Ella’s room.

3:05 pm- Samantha awakes from a nap cut way too short by the miserable cold she’s had the past few days. Oh, if the child would only sleep.

5:00 pm- dinner at my parents’ where Ella presents her homemade cards and carefully chosen gift. Two days ago, Ella discussed with Brian on the phone that she would like to get me earrings. Brian found 5 pictures, e-mailed them to my account with instructions for only Ella to look at the e-mail. She then discussed with Brian on the phone which ones she liked best. The package arrived in the mail the next day, which was quickly absconded with and hidden under Ella’s bed.

7:00 pm- My Mom, Carrie, Ella and I watch the Sound of Music—to which we sang “Ella is 5—going on 17…” Ella, having seen the musical at my Mom’s school a month ago, was purely entranced with the movie. She declares that she is “Liezl”.

8:57 pm- Ella hugs me tight declaring that I’m the best Mom in the world.

Man, I love that girl.

A little separation

At 5:30 a.m. this morning, my husband left me. Two suitcases in hand, he jumped in a taxi. And he's gone...

Indefinitely.

He tells me he'll come back.

But the case he's been working on the past two years, which is now going to trial tomorrow, has had a way of making him disappear.


So--the day before we had to say good-bye, we spent the afternoon together at the seasonal opening of Glen Echo Park.

We swung (mostly, Samantha swung--she leans her head back and exclaims WEEEEEEEE)

We danced

(that would be Ella with the dance floor to herself and live music behind her--truly, a dream)

(and me, running for mother of the year as Ella and I danced in a group waltz)

We hula-hooped

And rode the Merry-Go-Round

And so--we wait for Brian's return--keeping our fingers crossed that we'll see him before the end of the month. Ella captured this lovely photo of me this morning. Can you sense the excitement at the beginning of my day? Can you see the glaring bags under my eyes?

I'm hoping I gain a little more momentum tomorrow...

A Compliment

I overheard Ella tell her friend today:

Do you know why my Mom is so great?

She bought me two new Barbie toothbrushes.

One for upstairs and one for downstairs.

Isn't that cool?

It's not often kids compliment their parents so I will admit I stood a little taller as a Mom today. You never know what will make an impression on their little minds. Glad I hit upon something today.

Remembering

Pictures are an integral part of remembering. Quite often the only reason we remember a certain event in our life is because we have a picture of it. Certainly I have lots of memories without pictures to accompany them, but the only reason I remember making sugar cookies at the table with my Mom when I was 4 years old is because I have a picture of me sitting at the table with knarly hair and a rolling pin. The only reason I remember my bright yellow stir-up pant outfit with lace headband and bicycle-dangly earrings is because of the picture. Or the fact I dressed as a Native American for my 6th birthday party (most of my birthday parties consisted of costumes--its hard to keep them straight) is the picture.

I know I can't photograph or video tape every minute of my children's lives, but I do try to capture moments of them that will forever influence their memories of their childhood. Here are a few choice ones.

Lemonade Stand #?

Ella is getting quite the taste for business as she has now helped her friend sell lemonade several times. It's a great deal given that our neighbor supplies the ingredients and the stand and Ella comes home and puts quarters in her piggy bank. Nice work Ella!

Sisters Reading

I literally sprinted up and down two flights of stairs to grab the camera for this picture. These two are a great pair--Ella loves to read and Sam loves to be read to. I loved the two of them in the rocking chair with Ella's arm around her little sister before bed. My heart was putty.

All the World's A Stage

Elevated cement slab + a favorite dress + public audience in downtown Baltimore= a prime dancing venue.

A Basketball Star in Embryo

Samantha L-O-V-E-S balls, but basketballs in particular. She loves to shoot them in her small hoop and would watch me shoot them at our next door neighbor's all day long. She claps when I make the diaper shot into the diaper pail and yelps when I miss (and then she graciously goes to pick it up and put it in for me.) I'm thinking her love of the game combined with her aggressive tendencies--we've got college paid for.


Who am I kidding? These pictures may punctuate their childhood memories, but most importantly they'll punctuate mine and Brian's. When they're long gone cultivating new lives of their own, I just don't ever want to forget how happy they made our home.

Easter- Part II

Easter Bunny drama aside, we had a splendid Easter weekend. The weather even mostly cooperated. I'm regretting now that we didn't get a family Easter shot with all of us donning our Easter outfits--and the girls didn't really cooperate for their photo shoot.

Festivities included:

A junior primary easter egg hunt at Bishop and Nancy Marriott's home on Saturday, complete with trampoline jumping, storytelling and crafts. They had the most beautiful backyard for the hunt--the girls had a great time and officially kicked off their weekend of obscenely-high sugar consumption.

That evening, Brian and I splurged and went to see

at the National Theater. It's such a fun musical--we had a great time. And of course any time you get to dress up and go out on the town with your hubby is a treat. It gives you that little boost to be able to handle kids for another long week of your husband working late nights.


And then Sunday post-Easter baskets and church, we had our Easter egg hunt in our "new" backyard. Brian and Carrie, my cousin's sister-in-law (what? you don't know any of your cousin's sister-in-laws? You're missing out--this one is darling and devours my girls every chance she gets) took on the egg hiding responsibilities.

Complete with a zillion hiding places and two wild bunnies for effect it worked splendidly--and the girls raked in lots of loot. Ella was the old pro while Samantha poked around the backyard a little distracted.

It was hard to tell if she was actually looking for anything, but at one point she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and lit upon an egg hidden up in an old birdfeeder. She wouldn't budge until my Mom lifted her up to retrieve the egg. Good eye, Sam!

This was the best picture I could get of the girls in their Easter dresses--they were fairly uncooperative.

Easter ranks high up on my list of favorite holidays--I love the season, traditions and the increased remembrance of our Savior's life and resurrection.

Phew-that's it for tonight. Two posts in one week is leaving me a bit light-headed. Good night.

Easter- Part I

The Easter Bunny Debacle

You'll recall last Christmas season I had some inner conflict about Santa. Now that Ella has reached an age where questions abound about how Santa and the Easter Bunny operate, I feel like more lies are told to cover up the lies. I know it's all about childhood innocence and the magic, blah, blah, blah--but I had kind of told myself that Santa I could do, the Easter Bunny I was going to downplay. I was hoping that we could have our Easter traditions and the Easter Bunny wouldn't even come into the equation. I decided I wouldn't deny the existence of the Easter Bunny, but I wasn't going to hype it up or concoct a whole bunch of lies to protect him.

Over a week ago, we're all driving in the car when the following exchange happens:

E: Mom, Ms. Susan says that the Easter Bunny will come to our house.
Me: Oh, she did? Hmmm. Well, really the Easter Bunny is about the spirit of Easter. He's a fun character that comes out at Easter time.
B: (under his breath) It's a slippery slope, dear.

Silence.

E: So he won't come to our house?
Me: We'll do lots of fun things at our house.

Silence.

I looked in my rear view mirror to see Ella pensively staring out the window.

My heart broke.

In a matter of 10 seconds I feared that I had killed the Easter bunny. I felt a portion of my daughter's innocence evaporate. What had I done??? I kept replaying the conversation back in my head. Maybe Ella hadn't understood what I was saying. I mean, I was vague enough, right? She's only 5-years-old--did she interpret that to mean there was no Easter bunny? Why didn't I think this through more?

And so, I decided I somehow had to resurrect the Easter bunny. The next day as a way of assuaging my guilt, I went to Target to buy all kinds of things for the Easter Bunny to bring. Gobs of candy, stickers, Polly pockets, bubbles, nail polish, lip gloss, Easter socks--this Easter Bunny was going to rock. The next task was to casually slip in to conversation that the Easter Bunny exists.

So I waited for Ella to bring it up again. Surely she would. Ella is an extremely cerebral child. She analyzes everything. She'll ask you an onslaught of questions--internalize your answers for a day or two, come back with new questions. No stone is left unturned. She wants logical explanations to everything. Perhaps this is why Santa and the Easter Bunny have been difficult--she wants to know everything. (The conversations about death from the past month and a half after my Grandma's passing is material for another post.)

But Ella never brought the Easter bunny up again.

It didn't help that after I came out of my bathroom from blow-drying my hair one morning, Ella sat on my bed and said, "Mom, was I supposed to see that Polly Pocket thing in your closet?"
"Um, no" I replied. "That was a surprise. I guess it's not any more."
Great. More cover-ups were needed. I couldn't put the Polly Pocket in her basket from the Easter Bunny, because she knows I bought it. I had a chalk-full week and couldn't go exchange it for another one or get something else. Plus she was on spring break and she certainly couldn't accompany me to the store. Aaargh.

So last Thursday, while Brian was working late, Ella and I started dying Easter eggs. This was it--we had to talk about the Easter Bunny.
Me: So have you thought about what the Easter Bunny might bring you?
E: (eyes wide open) But Mom, I thought you said the Easter Bunny wasn't real!
Shoot. I was right. How could I have been so heartless?
Me: Oh Ella, I'm sorry. The Easter Bunny will come to our house. I'm sorry I made you think he wouldn't.
E: Oh my gosh. I'm so excited. I hope he brings me some more pet shop animals and lots of candy. How does he get in our house? Does he come down the chimney like Santa? It's a good thing he's a bunny and can hop fast to get to everyone's house...

And the deluge of questions continued. So I swallowed, answered her questions the best I could and basked in the joy of a young child so eager to believe.

The Easter Bunny now lives again. A certain little girl anxiously awaited his arrival, not falling asleep for the night until at least 1:30am (she outlasted me). But he ate our carrots (left in front of the fireplace) and filled our baskets with goodies.

PS- A big thanks goes to the Harpers for granting us the use of your bunny for pics.

PPS- Is it possible my children will need therapy by the time I'm done raising them?

Full Swing into Spring

With it 70 degrees and sunny today, we can't help but rejoice. There is something about warmth and sunshine that changes you. It puts spring in your step, makes you WANT to clean your home, and your yard suddenly becomes an additional room to your house. Our delightful weather leaves tomorrow, but we will hold on dearly and wait for its return.

Here are a few snippets of spring around here.

Re-discovering our yard.

Since we weren't in our home yet last spring, we're enjoying watching what pops up. With this being Samantha's first spring being mobile, she walks around the yard and touches every plant and flower. It's quite darling.

A little spring cleaning...

Celebratory dance parties in the kitchen.

(Why, oh why, do they have to occur at 5pm--right in the middle of making dinner? I know I could send her elsewhere, but she goes through a lot of effort to bring her CD player and dolls down for the performance--and I'm an integral part of the audience.)

Springy new crocs...

Outside play time WITHOUT coats.

And of course trampoline static does wonders for your hair.

The return of the bunnies.

The number, by the way, in our yard appears to have doubled. Our one from last year is now two. If we double every year, we could have a serious problem. I'm slightly concerned these two will become parents shortly. My plans for a garden are in serious question.

And I, a DC native, finally ventured to see the cherry blossoms on the tidal basin. The blossoms are one of those things that you know will be there every year, and so you figure you'll make it the next year. But today, we had a beautiful, unusually free Sunday morning and took a stroll under the blossoms. They are indeed lovely, but somehow the beauty is partly lost when I'm sharing it with a gazillion other people. We did see three presidential helicopters fly overhead--whether Obama was in them, we know not. But if I had a helicopter at my disposal, I'd ask to fly over the blossoms every day. That would surely be more enjoyable.

Peek-a-boo amongst the trees:

Apparently another reason to dance:

Now...if only spring would bring about motivation to blog more often. I'll work on that.