1m2aSandbox

Yesterday was a gorgeous day outside and the girls had a rare day of sibling amity for the entire day; we played outside after school then came home and continued in the back yard, pausing only briefly for dinner, until bedtime. Part of the time I simply lay on the grass and watched them laughing and giggling together, marveling that sometimes I get it right – at least, right enough to be able to give them this small measure of happiness in each other.

Anyway, their joy was overflowing and the funny things kept pouring out of their mouths. At one point, Maddie was demonstrating how she’s working on her front flip: she laid out several floor pillows in a row (yes, we take them outside sometimes, and really, the word “no” just didn’t fit in yesterday’s vocabulary), ran at the pillows, flipped in mid-air, and landed on her head – yes, head – and continued smoothly into a forward roll.

I watched her do this and said, “Honey, I am really glad you chose to use the pillows; practicing this on the hard ground would not be good.”

Last night I taught until just after the girls’ bedtime, and when I came home I immediately headed upstairs for a last-minute snuggle, as is my habit. The girls read books and say prayers with a grown-up, then are allowed a bit of time by themselves with the light on to read some more or do crosswords or puzzle books. Well, traditionally Maddie would read and Cora, not yet a reader, would do some sort of maze book or color.

But recently Cora’s been reading and I’ll occasionally come in to snuggle her and find her working her way through a book. Last night, I happened upon my daughter reading Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree.

This weekend, out of nowhere Maddie said, “Ok, here’s something I don’t get.”

Uh oh.

“How is it that sometimes when people get married they don’t have a baby right away, but sometimes people have babies sooner?”

The adults at the table looked at each other.

A few weeks ago the girls’ school began teaching soccer in gym class and for whatever reason Maddie got bitten by the soccer bug. She’s managed to spend her whole young life assiduously avoiding team sports, but this time around a light’s switched on and she wants desperately to play.

Of course, by the time she came to this realization all the spring soccer leagues were already under way, so Brian stepped up and offered to do a once-a-week practice at a nearby field for Maddie and some friends. No games on Saturdays, no competition, just getting together once a week to work on soccer skills and have fun.

Last night was the first practice.

Spring break is barely in our rearview mirror at this household and I’m already feeling the pressure to get our summer schedule figured out. You might think such a schedule would look something like this: “Sleep in. Go to the pool. Take a nap. Repeat.” And we’ll certainly have many days like that, it’s true.

But that’s not the whole story.

So yesterday I filled you in on my past life with Barbies – read that first if you haven’t already. Let’s just say that I played with Barbies as a kid, as did my mom who gave hers to me, and I had them all in a huge steamer trunk neatly labeled “Barbies” in my garage. The girls have seen the trunk and longed for the day I’d get it down for them.

Monday was that day.

Monday was our Pajama Day – a day we traditionally have for every Staycation, and this spring break is no exception. I thought for this Pajama Day I’d bring in the Barbie trunk and let them wallow in girl-ness for the day.

Now, on Pajama Day the girls aren’t allowed to go downstairs until both are awake and an adult goes with them: I set up a pallet of pillows and blankets on the floor the night before for movie-watching, get out games and fun stuff to do, and tape up a “chores list” for the day. No one’s allowed a sneak peak, since the chores list says things like “Eat cookie dough” or “finger paint” or “play outside in your pajamas”.

Or “play with Barbies”.

My girls have not gotten hugely into Barbie – she’s never appeared on a cake or taken over our gameroom - but it’s definitely on Cora’s radar. I think the plastic dolls first started coming in the house as the Disney princesses; the actual Barbie first came across Cora’s path as a book, I believe. You know the books – the tons of books-from-the-movies that Barbie “stars” in, like the dancing one and Fairytopia and the Ariel-wanna-be girl, Merliah.

Ok, so we have our fair share of Barbies in the house.

I’ve resisted buying them a lot of “Barbie” stuff, partly because it’s stupidly expensive (what I do buy comes from resale shops), a bit because of the whole feminist issue (though let’s not put all the blame on Barbie for this one, O Mouse House), but mostly because I have a whole trunk of Barbie paraphernalia in the garage.

Yesterday was a glorious day outside – high in the mid-80’s, breezy and sunny. Maddie rode her bike to school while Cora scootered her way there, so we were all happy as we traveled home in the gorgeous sunshine.

Maddie moves the fastest on her bike, and Cora will often choose to scooter slowly beside me to chat, tell me about her day, and so forth. Yesterday, though, she scootered alongside me silently for a bit before powering on ahead to catch up with Maddie at a crosswalk. After we’d gotten across the street and turned down our last block, Maddie put one foot on the pedal, preparing to take off again.

“Maddie, can you ride more slowly so I can scooter next to you? I’ve got some stuff to tell you,” Cora said. Maddie moved over on the wide lane and Cora began shoving along next to her big sister, who asked, “What do you need to tell me?”