she's leaving.

Perched on her pink and white, Huffy bicycle, Emme waited at the top of our driveway. Her arms were crossed, her eyebrows scrunched together and she was staring me down with the pout of the century. "I'm leaving, " she declared. She was mad.

Minutes earlier I had put a stop to her game of "pretend mommy".  We were on the swings and "pretend mommy" was pushing both Delaney and myself. Well, Delaney's swing was pushed a little too aggressively and she was done. I hopped up from my swing and fetched Delaney from her swing. All the while I am explaining to  Emme why she cannot try to catapult a baby's swing 10 feet in the air. Emme wasn't having it. She stomped into the garage, grabbed her bike and headed for the gate by the driveway.

She waited there until I inquired where she was going. She said she was leaving. She wasn't staying at our house any longer. She decided she was running away via bicycle and headed to Nan Nan & Pop Pop's. I told her we sure would miss her, but if she really did intend to leave I would like to raise her bike seat. I mentioned her legs had grown too long and she could pedal much easier if her seat were higher. She agreed to the minor set back in her plans and she handed over her bike.

After her bike seat was raised to a more suitable height, Emme declared she was leaving, again, and she began to pedal. "Mom, this rides awesome!" she said. I said I was glad it was easier to ride and reminded her that we sure would miss her but she better get going to Nan Nan & Pop Pop's. She stopped pedaling, looked at me with a crooked smile and said, "Mom, I'm not really leaving. I think I'm going to stay here with you guys, okay?" Okay, pal.

Three and a half years old and she already threatened to run away. Her teen years should be fun...

it happens.

The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. The air was warm with a gentle breeze. Mother Nature could not have cooked up a better afternoon. 

My littlest lady was down for a mid-day snooze and my big girl was lounging lazily on a swing. All chores were checked off for the day so I headed outside for a little quality time with Emme. I suggested we take a stroll down the driveway to fetch the mail. Usually Emme jumps at the chance to grab the mail to see if anything is addressed to her. But this afternoon, she passed. She seemed too relaxed, dangling legs, swaying on her swing. 

So I headed down the driveway...by myself. It's silly, really, how much I was enjoying my few minutes of solitude. I could not help but think how easy my walk was without a babe perched on my hip or a preschooler pulling at my shirt because she wants to "be the leader". I looked at the remarkably clear sky and took a deep breath, peaceful. I was in the moment, just being. 

As I stood at the mailbox, leafing through the bundle of post, the wind picked-up. I felt something collide with my head. I shook my head, hoping whatever flew into me might take flight away from me. Then I brushed my hand over the top of my head to be sure that the little critter was indeed gone. 

Well, no critter, just a handful of.......bird poop. 

Yep. Great moment of solitude.  

crush.

My big girl is smitten.

Next door lives a little fella four years her senior. Emmersen knows any school bus sightings in the afternoon  mean her little crush will soon be returning home from his day of learning. She waits, patiently, on her swing until he comes to the fence that divides our backyard from his. Emme will sprint to the fence as soon as she sees him. They have a little convo, then I hear the all too familiar whine, "Maaaammmm?! Can Henry come over?!"

But sometimes Henry takes a little too long to show-up at the fence and I (and the rest of our poor neighbors) are subjected to this, "Henry? Heeennnry? Hen-RY? HENRY?!" This sing-songy repetition will go on and on and on until little Henry takes pity on (or gets annoyed with) my little demanding diva and gives into her calls.

Never the less, the two play remarkably well together. Some days they play pirates. Other days, they play wedding. Some days it's baseball & karate. Others, it's gymnastics & bubbles. And despite their age difference, they are very kind to each other. Every once and a while, we will find an envelope or shoe box by the front door. Henry has left Emme drawings, a mini baseball bat, a Squinkie, a water gun and various other little trinkets he deems important enough to share with little Emme. Emme always blushes and says, "Oh, Henry." when she finds the gifted treasure.

As the school year comes to a close, I'll be interested to see how long Emme can keep Henry's attention. Or will the little guy wise up and run for the hills as soon as summer break begins :)

Should make for an interesting summer boys & girls.

lucky.

The calm after the storm. After last week's heavy-heart, pickle of a time, today was exactly what the doctor (or in this case, momma) ordered. A lovely, sunny Saturday filled with ordinary, weekend to-dos. What made the day so lovely was the soundtrack - little girl giggles, belly laughs & squeals of joy accompanied by a stronger laugh, a Dad's laugh.

My girls + their daddy = lucky, lucky me.

focus.

I am afraid I have begun to lose focus.

Now, don't get me wrong, I focus plenty on my kiddos - 24/7.  As a SAHM, all I do is focus on my two little ladies, it's what I am fortunate enough to be able to do. But that fortune comes by way of my other half who wakes five mornings a week, shuffles to the kitchen to feed the dog and pour a cup of coffee. Then shuffles back to the bedroom to get dressed and heads out the door to work for the next 9 or 10 hours. But the man never leaves the house until he brings me a cup of coffee while I am still in bed & kisses me goodbye. For that split moment of my day, I savor that uninterrupted smooch & few seconds shared between us. Then my focus turns to the kids.

I love being a SAHM. It's the coolest, most unpredictable job I've ever occupied. But I am a micro-manager. Not a good combo. Most of the time, this leaves poor ol' dad waiting in the wings. Even if he tries to help out, I am too quick to shoot him down because, well, dare I say it, momma does it better?

I know. I know. I'm a fool. Many days, I forget that I  have my little loves because a boy was gullible enough to fall for my antics 17 years ago, and stayed gullible enough to "pop the question" 10 years ago and didn't truly realize what he had signed up for until the deal was sealed at the alter 8 years ago. But it is his mellow soul that brings my determined/control-freak soul to neutral ground. I lost focus of that.

Instead, I focus on my girls. I focus on my doubt that I can parent the right way, as if there really is a "right" way. I focus on our home. I focus on my tasks. I focus on keeping everything in our world balanced, except for my loving fella. I take for granted that he knows I think he is a fantastic dad. I mean the man has had his nails painted, hair clipped into barrettes, plays dress-up, Barbies, prince & princess, has dance parties and still manages to be a master of the BBQ grill & keep a well manicured lawn. But people can't read minds. And I don't tell him enough.

So, while he sleeps, I type. I should be sleeping next to him instead. Good night.

quick wit.

We've had a not so easy week. The little lady, Delaney, was under the weather and I, of course, had a five mile long "to-do" list. By Friday night, I was feeling a bit run down my self.

Sad that we would have to miss out on some fun with friends, my spirit was a tad crushed before I even got out of bed this morning. Luckily, Emme's brain was loaded with little nuggets of humor to keep my frown turned upside-down. Thank goodness she has her Pop's quick wit!

Emme's response to going with Kimmy (my sister) to the nail salon-

     Emme: "Kimmy, I don't want to go to the nail salon."

     Kim: "Why?"

     Emme: "I'm getting really tired of that place."

This was funny not only because of the whiny way she said it, but because she & Kim have a standing date every other Saturday morning to get their nails done. I guess you can get too much of a good thing?

*************************

At the start of dinner tonight-
     Emme: "Guys! We need to toast! Cheers to mom's real birthday tomorrow!"
Then she asked if she could blow into my & Clay's beer bottles to make a "toot" noise. Yes, Clay taught her that trick.

*************************

Waiting for me to assist her on the toilet after a #2-
     Emme: "Mom, I'm done and my poopy's not brown!"
     Me: "It's not?" (a little concerned)
     Emme: "Nope, it's not brown!"
     Me: "Well, what color is it?"
     Emme: "It's...blonde!"
The excitement in her voice confirmed that, maybe blondes are more fun. Even "blonde" poopies.

Sorry for the last one, but it was too funny not to mention. Maybe it was a you-had-to-be-there kind of moment, but funny none the less.

Now, tomorrow is a new week. Delaney's fever has finally broken. And I will be another year older. Cheers!

compliments.

This evening, we were in the car headed to an event that called for me to be dressed in something nicer than my staple running shorts, baseball cap & tank. Emme had already commented that I "looked really nice" before we had even left the house. Especially sweet compliment from a 3 1/2 year old. But once in the car, Emme's compliments took a different tone:

Emme: "Mom, you look pretty."
Me: "Thanks, babe. You look nice, too."
Emme: "Mommy, you look like a younger girl."

Clay immediately began to laugh. My mouth dropped open.

Clay (giggling): "Because mom usually looks older?"
Emme: "Yeah, mom, you usually look real old."

Out of the mouths of babes.