At least, I think they're funny. And it's my blog. So there you go. Just a couple of things Eve has said lately that I want to get down, before I forget....
She calls play-doh, "potato". It took me a really long time to figure out what she wanted to do when she asked to "play potato."
The other morning we walked out of Josie's school and Eve pointed across the softball fields and said, "Look! It's all funky out!" And when I looked to where she was pointing, it was a little... foggy. Or, "funky."
We were in the van on the way to the thrift store the other morning (which was during the Columbus Day 50% off sale - and HOLY BEJESUS - that was an experience worse than trying to be out and about shopping the day after Thanksgiving!) and Eve says, "Mommy..." And I say, "What?" And she pauses for a couple of beats and says, "Butt cheeks." And, that was that.
Reminders
Monday, October 05, 2009
There have been a lot of days since I've been a stay-at-home mom where the drudgery of the chores, the hassle of the never-ending, relentless tasks, the annoying grate of little voices needing something from me, again, the squabbling and questions and mess have made me want to run away. Days where I haven't wanted to even get dressed, never mind get someone else dressed. Mornings when I curse the tiny busing area for Josie's school as I hustle both girls out the door.
Last night, Eve fell down the stairs leading from our main level to the basement. From the top. To the bottom. Hurtling head over toes. I heard the thudding as I was pulling Josie's bedding from the dryer. I turned just in time to see her little body tumbling down the last bottom half of the staircase. The floor of the laundry/utility room half of our basement is not soft. It is hard, and it is cold, and it is the last thing in the world you would want the body of your child to fall against - especially with the speed and force gained after tumbling down the stairs. And yet, somehow, with some unseen, guiding hand, she landed at the bottom sitting upright.
As I screamed "omygod omygod omygod" and rushed to her, she started sobbing. I frantically touched her everywhere looking for the bumps, scrapes, bruises, blood, broken parts. There were nothing but big, sad tears.
She reached her arms around my neck, and patted my back. She said, "I fell." Then sobbed, "Josie, I brought you your bunny." And there at the bottom of the stairs, was Josie's favorite stuffed animal, unharmed, looking up at us. Josie was sad and tired and ready for bed and came with me to retrieve her blankie from the dryer. Eve was bringing her bunny to her, and either slipped or missed her first step on her way down the stairs.
It was my biggest fear in our house come true. I've pictured someone falling down those stairs many times, pictured unthinkable images of what could happen to small bodies and heads hitting that floor. After Eve and I returned home this morning from dropping Josie at school and running an errand at Target, I went to the bathroom, and thought about what happened last night, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. She was fine. She is fine. But I couldn't stop crying.
Next time I'm feeling ungrateful, burdened, bothered, I'll will myself to snap out of it before I need a reminder of why I'm doing what I'm doing. Or pray for a more gentle reminder. I stayed home so that Josie could participate in the pre-K program. I stayed home so that I didn't have to write out a check to someone else to care for Eve. I stayed home so that I could be the one to answer their questions, to dry their tears, to help them clean up their messes. I stayed home so that I could play a million games of dominoes, have my hair "fixed" with fifty barrettes, and have helping hands with grocery shopping. I stayed home to learn from them, to teach them, to be a better person, a better mom.
And, for now, there is a rug at the bottom of the basement stairs. And a whole lot of thanks going out to the unseen helping hand that placed Eve upright at the bottom.
Last night, Eve fell down the stairs leading from our main level to the basement. From the top. To the bottom. Hurtling head over toes. I heard the thudding as I was pulling Josie's bedding from the dryer. I turned just in time to see her little body tumbling down the last bottom half of the staircase. The floor of the laundry/utility room half of our basement is not soft. It is hard, and it is cold, and it is the last thing in the world you would want the body of your child to fall against - especially with the speed and force gained after tumbling down the stairs. And yet, somehow, with some unseen, guiding hand, she landed at the bottom sitting upright.
As I screamed "omygod omygod omygod" and rushed to her, she started sobbing. I frantically touched her everywhere looking for the bumps, scrapes, bruises, blood, broken parts. There were nothing but big, sad tears.
She reached her arms around my neck, and patted my back. She said, "I fell." Then sobbed, "Josie, I brought you your bunny." And there at the bottom of the stairs, was Josie's favorite stuffed animal, unharmed, looking up at us. Josie was sad and tired and ready for bed and came with me to retrieve her blankie from the dryer. Eve was bringing her bunny to her, and either slipped or missed her first step on her way down the stairs.
It was my biggest fear in our house come true. I've pictured someone falling down those stairs many times, pictured unthinkable images of what could happen to small bodies and heads hitting that floor. After Eve and I returned home this morning from dropping Josie at school and running an errand at Target, I went to the bathroom, and thought about what happened last night, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. She was fine. She is fine. But I couldn't stop crying.
Next time I'm feeling ungrateful, burdened, bothered, I'll will myself to snap out of it before I need a reminder of why I'm doing what I'm doing. Or pray for a more gentle reminder. I stayed home so that Josie could participate in the pre-K program. I stayed home so that I didn't have to write out a check to someone else to care for Eve. I stayed home so that I could be the one to answer their questions, to dry their tears, to help them clean up their messes. I stayed home so that I could play a million games of dominoes, have my hair "fixed" with fifty barrettes, and have helping hands with grocery shopping. I stayed home to learn from them, to teach them, to be a better person, a better mom.
And, for now, there is a rug at the bottom of the basement stairs. And a whole lot of thanks going out to the unseen helping hand that placed Eve upright at the bottom.
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