Love Story

Taylor Swift wrote the epitome of a love story in but a few minutes. I was wondering this morning what it is about the song that chokes me up so. Is it watching my 5 year old daughter clasp her hands under her chin, staring dreamy eyed at the prospect of a princess and prince finding each other? Is it watching their dad dance around the room, uninhibited and singing with his little girls? Is it hearing Ellie's rich, little girl voice belting out "Romeo, Save me! I've been feeying so ayone!"

I think it must be all of the above. The romance novelist inside is in awe of such a succinct story - with the pitfalls, heartbreak, and ultimate unabashed joy at the h/h finding their true love. The mommy in me sees the girls as budding romantics. The wife in me only has eyes for her own Romeo, turned amazing dad.

If you haven't seen it, you must. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wRkoGKQ8qQ

Have a wonderful Saturday!

How to Get What We Want

I'm thinking this moring of the art of getting what you want. More to the point, how do little girls learn to get their way, or accept that they won't get their way, and change their tactics?

As I'm writing, I have my daughter curled up beside me, whining because she wants a puppy for her birthday. Her birthday - turning 5 - is becoming quite the event in her mind. She has plans, boy oh boy, and her party better not disappoint! she's planning everything, down to the decorations, the party favors, the guest list, the color of balloons. Everything. And she's changed her mind on all of it, at least twice.

As her mother, I can only listen, smile, and wait for her to change her mind for the thousandth time. She is a fickle little flower. A sweet, demanding little thing, with a disposition like a partly sunny day. One moment, she's sunshine and rainbows, and the next--she's a storm, ready to weep rain over the bitterness of her disappointment. I sit by, with sunscreen or umbrella handy, as one never knows what you're going to get.

Her little sis is easy. Easy to please. Easy to distract and make laugh. And though she gets frustrated with her little toddler body, me, and learning the boundaries, she is my bubble. The older one, she is another story. Who knows why. Some say drama-queen. To me, it's just her. Just typing this post, I've waited her out. Now she wants orange juice with the same abandon of the forgotten puppy.

This is motherhood.

Chasing Monsters

A scream pierced the darkness. 5:15 a.m.

I flew down the hall to the shaking, sitting up form of my oldest daughter. She sobbed into her hands, "The little man downstairs. He had a knife!"

Just a dream, I knew. I soothed. But the knowing of that, and the soothing of her didn't take the terrors away. Her daddy tried to share his wisdom in the wee hours of the morning with little ears that only heard one thing. He didn't believe her.

I shushed them both and picked her up. Carrying her back to my bed, I wrapped my hands around her, held her close. Not until this moment have I realized how much she's grown. Long legs, slender arms, ocean blue eyes that see far more than we give her credit for.

When she was a baby (toddler) 5 a.m. was her time to relive incidents from the day before. I'd perk my ears as I stroked her back, and she talked in her sleep, wailing about unresolved daycare issues. 5 a.m. is her witching hour, the time that she shares her soul with me, and I stand on the sideline and watch her subconscious deal out the blows to the bad ones that my soft spoken little miss couldn't perform while awake.

Now, she's reliving a movie we watched last night: Arthur & The Incredibles. An innocent enough tale with fanciful creatures, good and bad. A secret universe, under our very noses, with a princess, a prince, and a happy ending. And of course, where there is good, so there is evil. A tiny, scary creature with a sword and a vengeance. The story is all about balance of good and evil. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. We laughed, we danced to the music, and we cheered when love conquers all.

But, in her dreamland, convinced that she truly crept downstairs in search of a secret snack only to find the little scary man with his knife.

Was it real? Real enough for a 4 year old on the edge of turning 5. Real enough to curl up with her mama under the covers and stare, wide eyed at the horizon and wait for the first fingers of dawn to unfold the blanket of dark. Real enough for me to hold on to her, stroke her back, and keep the nightmares at bay.

To be Two Again...

Oh, to be two and a half again...
To not care that you're covered in sand. To grab on to your mommy when a wave plows you over. To know that she'll be there to catch you and bring you up to the surface again. To build sand castles and see magic in the air when a kite takes flight on an unseen breeze. To trust. To love. To laugh. To live. I suppose that's what Jesus meant, when he said let the children come to me. We all need to remember what it is like to be truly childlike. Ellie and Rachel are my teachers. They're my education on how to dance like no one is watching. How to be goofy and fun and that it's more fun to hear your favorite song a hundred times than to skip around the radio looking for something else. If I were two years old today, I'd want to dig the deepest hole I could. To look for seashells. To sit and let the waves slap at my legs. To spend all day with my mom and dad. To play. To eat too much ice cream. To fall asleep on the way home and know that I'd wake up in the comfort of my own bed.