1m2aSandbox

We had an unexpected treat this weekend: friends invited us over to have lunch and swim, and we ended up staying for almost nine hours having a fantastic time. We ate lunch by the pool, swam for hours, changed into dry clothes, let the kids watch movies and play like puppies while dinner was readied, ate dinner, and then swam some more. By the time we went home the girls were exhausted – the good kind of exhausted.

Our friends have a diving board, and Maddie and Cora were all over it. They lined up and jumped in for HOURS. Maddie did “trick” after “trick”: jumping like a pencil, jumping in the straddle splits, and so on. Cora was enamored of the deep part of the pool, and would cling to the side, take a deep breath, then dive down in her snorkel mask, pushing herself down the wall, to touch the bottom of the pool twelve loooooong feet away before popping up again like a cork, smiling insanely.

The girls had a great time.

Yesterday morning Cora had a friend over to play. While the young girls giggled happily together, Maddie a bit of the old man out, I took advantage of the pint-sized distraction and cleaned a couple of rooms. Maddie, bored, ambled into where I was and said, “Mom, can I talk to Elise on the phone?” Maddie’s friend has been out of town a couple weeks and my daughter was clearly missing her – as well as looking for something to do that didn’t involve helping five-year-olds dress up the cat.

“Sure, kiddo, let me go get the phone and call Elise’s mom on vacation for you, and she’ll hand you over to Elise if Elise is available.” I was headed towards the house phone when Maddie said, “And Mom? I really think I should get my own phone for Christmas this year.”

We have celebrated July 4th several different ways as a family over the years: when we lived in New York, we’d throw a picnic blanket on the floor and watch the Macy’s fireworks show out our window on the horizon. A couple years ago we went to a minor league baseball game and had a fabulous time, with fireworks at the end and everything. Last year we were in Florida and watched distant fireworks from the beach.

This year we discussed our options. There are several places in our area to see quality fireworks; the problem with them all is that they’re all, um, outside.

Yesterday the girls and I played at the pool all morning with friends, bringing a picnic lunch to prolong the fun. After we got home I hustled the girls into dry clothes and ran a few errands with them before heading back home to get Maddie dressed for ballet. As I scurried both girls out the door, rushing to avoid being late, I handed Cora a bag I’d packed for her with fun stuff to do while Maddie took class: markers, coloring books, and the like.

“Here, can you please carry your bag? I put water and a snack in it,” I said briefly as I struggled into my shoes.

Yesterday Brian and I took the girls to a children’s science and technology museum for the afternoon. We had a great time learning about friction with bumper car models and spinning on a top to bring the idea of centripetal force home. Brian and Maddie had just finished building a very nice Lego house and we were all meandering our way back out the door when a staff member approached me and said, “Excuse me, our dissection of a cow’s eyeball is going to begin in two minutes if your daughters would like to come watch.”

I looked at Brian. He looked at me. I took anatomy and did more than my fair share of dissecting so I was happy to go splash around in to some vitreous humors, but what would the girls think?

Recently Maddie’s been rather indifferent about food – and by “food” I mean anything but dessert. There is absolutely no ennui in her attitude towards sugar. But for regular meals, she’ll take all morning to decide what she wants for breakfast – half a bowl of cereal – then procrastinate for an hour over lunch, then eat a decent dinner (perhaps because she doesn’t get to choose that meal). This has left me saying, “What do you want for lunch, Maddie?” over and over again, only getting an answer from her right after I’ve sat down and put my feet up to eat my own lunch.

So a few days ago, I finally said, “Maddie, if you do not tell me what you want for lunch in the next five minutes, I will not make anything for you. If you are hungry, you will need to provide for yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I heard from behind a book.