Thursday, July 18, 1996 7 a.m.
Laura-12, Jasmine-11, Margret-9, Trina-6, Lark-3
Steve has a small role in a community theatre production of Thornton Wilder's Our Town. In the play the lead, Emily, dies delivering her 2nd child. As she enters the graveyard she is missing life and wants to go back to live one day. Just one day. Her cemetary companions try to dissuade her. It's too hard, they say. The living don't appreciate what they have and focus too much on unimportant things.
If I were in Emily's place and were to select one insignificant day to relive and chose yesterday, this is what I would live...
I got up between 6 & 7 a.m. Ate two bowls of cereal. Got ready for work. Read a snatch of magazine article. Sat down in the older girl's room on the end of Laura's bed and listened while Steve read aloud a chapter from our core book. Then I read aloud a chapter from Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine. The one where they haul out the area rugs for their semi-annual cleaning.
Arrived at work at a reasonable time--between 8 and 9 a.m after picking up 12 dozen cookies from Ream for today's Summer Reading Program party. ($61.77 or 43 cents a cookie!) Went outside to spray paint a "time capsule" box gold for today's program. Continued preparations for the program. It went well. The late afternoon was spent winding down, cleaning up, etc. til it was 5:30 in no time and time to go home to my neglected children.
Steve had been working in Salt Lake all day. My dad came over and was with the girls part of the day--made sure they had lunch. When I got home (driving the car the Mitchells have loaned us) the girls were upstairs watching a video. I had cookies for them but was dismayed when I saw the table still dirty from their lunch. (I had gone without lunch--ate three cookies).
So I called the girls down--to unload and load the dishwasher. (They each have assigned categories of dishes to do--they like this arrangement). Laura vacuumed. Jasmine swept and mopped. I wiped the table and counters and began supper preparations.
Laura was wearing filthy clothes she'd worn yesterday. Trina was still in her pajamas. Their hair was in need of a brush. Before long everything was in order--including the girls. There was some balking but generally done good-naturedly and willingly.
I made cookies but overbaked the first batch. We had a possibly good meal--buttered noodles with toasted almonds, freezer vegetables with parsnips added. No meat. Icecream with burnt cookies.
I hustled the girls to clean the upstairs somewhat.
I went outdoors to pull weeds. It had rained during the day and the ground was the perfect softness for weeding. The evening was pleasant but late. Soon all the girls were outside with me. I assigned rows and Trina was to pick up our weeds. Lark just occupied herself. Soon all daylight was gone and we worked by yard-light. Then I pulled all the weeds skirting the patio while Trina, Lark, and Jasmine "painted" mud portraits on the bricks.
They went indoors.
I stood alone in the yard in the dark, feeling the balmy evining--listening to the distant sound of an ethnic flute being played at an International Folk Dance performance some blocks away. I thought how wonderful it had been working with the girls, enjoying and enhancing our little plot. I thought, "Life doesn't get any better." I walked to the front yard, wound up the hose, and came indoors.
The girls were scattered about the house.
Jasmine was on the couch looking at a catalog. Trina was filling the tub upstairs for her and Lark. Margret was on my bed reading a novel amidst a mountain of stuffed animals and dolls. Laura was in her room. I gave them each a task to complete "before Daddy gets home, to surprise him".
Margret was to put away the toys that were collected on my bed. ("Trina got them out!" she protested.) But she did it. Jasmine emptied the pile on the t.v. room rocking chair. Laura put the hangers and shoes away in the closet. I showered and sat down to read a chapter in my current novel.
By now I began to worry about Steve. I expected him home at 10:30 and it was 11 p.m. To my joy the van pulled into the driveway. He was home! Safe!
With Steve home and the girls all in the living room I read aloud another chapter from Dandelion Wine. Lark and Trina fell asleep. We carried them up to bed. The big girls went right to bed. I finished the chapter in my novel while Steve massaged my feet. Ahhhh. He needed to be gone by 7 a.m. in the morning to help with a church welfare canning project so we went right to bed. By now it was midnight.
And so the day went. Exquisite.
And today has begun--Steve is gone already. I was up by 7 a.m.--began a load in the washer, mopped the kitchen floor and wrote this entry while waiting for it to dry. I'll finish the floor now and get on with another day.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Open Your Eyes to See
Wednesday, August 30, 1995 10:30 p.m.
Laura-11, Jasmine-10, Margret-8, Trina-5, Lark-nearly 3
Laura, Jasmine, and Margret are asleep--but only for a half hour.
Margret lost a tooth and tells me I'm the tooth fairy--that Jasmine told her.
It is hot. Jasmine and Margret took off their nightgowns and sleeping bag coverlet and are wearing only their panties and are covered with a sheet.
Trina is wearing "Barney" slippers. She bit her tongue while having a "midnight" snack. She has a washcloth in her mouth and is "still" for the first time in hours. Earlier she removed the couch cushions and jumping.
Steve is just finishing his work at Marco's and should be on his way home.
As I was tidying up the kitchen I recalled the near-blood-drawing feud the girls had earlier over some scraps of used aluminum foil. Margret was smoothing out one crumpled piece to turn it into a scroll. Jasmine tore two circle to make eyes. Laura helped Margret. All seems to have ended peacefully. They are creating art for the PTA Reflections Contest. I am impressed with their ideas. Margret was going to write the theme "Open Your Eyes to See" in Etruscan letters on her scroll. Jasmine drew a face labeled with the theme and used foil eyes.
As I go about my kitchen cleaning I put the following words to the tune of "This is the dawning of the age of aquarius" only I change the words to "the age of the garbage dump". You see, the girls had pulled several items from the garbage--some outdoor treasures Trina had gathered that are beginning to rot, and some papers. Sigh. I have a hard enough time disposing of items that most people readily identify as garbage--grocery bags, boxes, jars, milk bottle lids, book covers... My girls educate me on recycling when I finally steel myself to de-junking. They don't know my generation gave birth to "recycling". But I've grown somewhat cynical about it.
Trina is asleep now and Lark is calling me. Steve should be home in a few minutes.
Laura-11, Jasmine-10, Margret-8, Trina-5, Lark-nearly 3
Laura, Jasmine, and Margret are asleep--but only for a half hour.
Margret lost a tooth and tells me I'm the tooth fairy--that Jasmine told her.
It is hot. Jasmine and Margret took off their nightgowns and sleeping bag coverlet and are wearing only their panties and are covered with a sheet.
Trina is wearing "Barney" slippers. She bit her tongue while having a "midnight" snack. She has a washcloth in her mouth and is "still" for the first time in hours. Earlier she removed the couch cushions and jumping.
Steve is just finishing his work at Marco's and should be on his way home.
As I was tidying up the kitchen I recalled the near-blood-drawing feud the girls had earlier over some scraps of used aluminum foil. Margret was smoothing out one crumpled piece to turn it into a scroll. Jasmine tore two circle to make eyes. Laura helped Margret. All seems to have ended peacefully. They are creating art for the PTA Reflections Contest. I am impressed with their ideas. Margret was going to write the theme "Open Your Eyes to See" in Etruscan letters on her scroll. Jasmine drew a face labeled with the theme and used foil eyes.
As I go about my kitchen cleaning I put the following words to the tune of "This is the dawning of the age of aquarius" only I change the words to "the age of the garbage dump". You see, the girls had pulled several items from the garbage--some outdoor treasures Trina had gathered that are beginning to rot, and some papers. Sigh. I have a hard enough time disposing of items that most people readily identify as garbage--grocery bags, boxes, jars, milk bottle lids, book covers... My girls educate me on recycling when I finally steel myself to de-junking. They don't know my generation gave birth to "recycling". But I've grown somewhat cynical about it.
Trina is asleep now and Lark is calling me. Steve should be home in a few minutes.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Centering Time
August 16, 1995 Laura-11, Jasmine-10, Margret-8, Trina-5, Lark-nearly 3
It's midnight. I am on leave from work "recovering" from a lazer treatment. I am using this time to "center" as a mom and sift through a decade or more of "stuff" as we prepare to move.
Steve is dozing in the reclining chair. Trina is asleep on the couch next to me. Lark is having a bowl of "brown cereal". The older girls are playing store up in Laura's room.
Steve hollers, "You girls need to settle down up there."
I am enjoying this "centering" time. Time to be at home. Time to be aware of my girls. Time to "drop everything" without hesitation when asked to
"come see" or
"help me".
I have thrown out a lot of clutter, given some stuff away, but most is organized in labeled boxes in a storage unit. I feel much more fee and relaxed minus walls full of junk and supplies for projects. I like having all those books packed away not begging for time to be read.
Lark observed me writing so got her journal and is coloring in it.
Sadly, Steve and I both suffer from the syndrome that causes one to believe that if a thing exists it should be used: boards, boxes, paper, crates, office furniture...
It's midnight. I am on leave from work "recovering" from a lazer treatment. I am using this time to "center" as a mom and sift through a decade or more of "stuff" as we prepare to move.
Steve is dozing in the reclining chair. Trina is asleep on the couch next to me. Lark is having a bowl of "brown cereal". The older girls are playing store up in Laura's room.
Steve hollers, "You girls need to settle down up there."
I am enjoying this "centering" time. Time to be at home. Time to be aware of my girls. Time to "drop everything" without hesitation when asked to
"come see" or
"help me".
I have thrown out a lot of clutter, given some stuff away, but most is organized in labeled boxes in a storage unit. I feel much more fee and relaxed minus walls full of junk and supplies for projects. I like having all those books packed away not begging for time to be read.
Lark observed me writing so got her journal and is coloring in it.
Sadly, Steve and I both suffer from the syndrome that causes one to believe that if a thing exists it should be used: boards, boxes, paper, crates, office furniture...
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Homework Reward
Tuesday May 9, 1995 Jasmine is 10
Last night Jasmine wept out her frustration of having what she feared is a "learning disability." She has difficulty tuning out noises and distractions. I had challenged her yesterday morning to make a goal to complete her homework every day this week and reward herself. She had finished her homework so I asked her what her reward to herself would be.
She replied, "Spending time with you."
Last night Jasmine wept out her frustration of having what she feared is a "learning disability." She has difficulty tuning out noises and distractions. I had challenged her yesterday morning to make a goal to complete her homework every day this week and reward herself. She had finished her homework so I asked her what her reward to herself would be.
She replied, "Spending time with you."
Monday, September 13, 2010
At the Table...
Saturday September 10, 1994 Jasmine-9, Margret-7, Trina-4, Lark-2
Dear Reader, no doubt you will be frustrated with me. You will think of lots of better solutions, as I am too at this writing. Where was "The Kid Whisperer" or "Super Nanny" when I was raising my children?
I hear in my mind my sister saying, "When there's a power struggle, everyone loses."
p.s. You can tell I'm a library manager by the things I say. My poor kids.
"At dinner we each took a turn saying how we were the same as Lark or different than Lark. Jasmine said she was more daring than Lark. So we talked about "daring". We decided that actually both Lark AND Jasmine were daring--only in different ways.
Then Trina was tipping her chair. She ignored being asked to stop. I asked if we had a family rule about chair tipping.
"No," she said.
"YES!" said all her big sisters.
"Why?" I asked.
Then I lectured on Risk Management. Example:
"What do we do to reduce the risk of a house fire? bla bla bla.
Then I said,
"If we tip our chairs we risk smashed toes. Do you like having your toe smashed Trina?"
So then Trina talked about wearing shoes but still side stepped the chair issue.
Margret began playing the recorder and we reminded her that we had said yesterday she was welsome to play it outside. She ignored that and I whispered to Steve,
"See what I mean about power struggles?"
Then I asked Margret if she cares how I feel. She nodded. I said,
"It would make me happy if you would put the recorder away during dinner." And she did! Then she wanted a second helping of dessert.
"No."
"Okay. Can I have the rest of the pink lemonade?"
I asked if anyone else wanted some. They all did.
"There's not enough for everyone. Is it okay with everyone if Margret drinks the rest?"
"No."
"Okay. Can I have some milk?"
"Margret, if you'd eaten a helping of leftovers like the rest of us did you wouldn't be hungry now. There's a correlation to eating dinner and being satisfied."
In the end she got a glass of milk but so did everyone else.
I took the three older girls to City Rep's "The Prince of Peace" this evening."
Dear Reader, no doubt you will be frustrated with me. You will think of lots of better solutions, as I am too at this writing. Where was "The Kid Whisperer" or "Super Nanny" when I was raising my children?
I hear in my mind my sister saying, "When there's a power struggle, everyone loses."
p.s. You can tell I'm a library manager by the things I say. My poor kids.
"At dinner we each took a turn saying how we were the same as Lark or different than Lark. Jasmine said she was more daring than Lark. So we talked about "daring". We decided that actually both Lark AND Jasmine were daring--only in different ways.
Then Trina was tipping her chair. She ignored being asked to stop. I asked if we had a family rule about chair tipping.
"No," she said.
"YES!" said all her big sisters.
"Why?" I asked.
Then I lectured on Risk Management. Example:
"What do we do to reduce the risk of a house fire? bla bla bla.
Then I said,
"If we tip our chairs we risk smashed toes. Do you like having your toe smashed Trina?"
So then Trina talked about wearing shoes but still side stepped the chair issue.
Margret began playing the recorder and we reminded her that we had said yesterday she was welsome to play it outside. She ignored that and I whispered to Steve,
"See what I mean about power struggles?"
Then I asked Margret if she cares how I feel. She nodded. I said,
"It would make me happy if you would put the recorder away during dinner." And she did! Then she wanted a second helping of dessert.
"No."
"Okay. Can I have the rest of the pink lemonade?"
I asked if anyone else wanted some. They all did.
"There's not enough for everyone. Is it okay with everyone if Margret drinks the rest?"
"No."
"Okay. Can I have some milk?"
"Margret, if you'd eaten a helping of leftovers like the rest of us did you wouldn't be hungry now. There's a correlation to eating dinner and being satisfied."
In the end she got a glass of milk but so did everyone else.
I took the three older girls to City Rep's "The Prince of Peace" this evening."
Thursday, September 9, 2010
When the Dog Bites, When the Bee Stings
Monday, Sept. 13, 1993 Laura is 9 years old. Lark is 1 year old (barely).
At Laura's piano lesson review she played the song "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music. The phrase "When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling bad" fit her perfectly today. The dog had attempted to bite her while they were playing and while crawling across my bedroom carpet after Lark she crawled over a bee which of course stung her for it!
Despite all that, the girls and Steve had the living room all picked up and the table cleared and dishes done when I got home from work. It had been a particularly bad day at work for me so I was very grateful for this.
At Laura's piano lesson review she played the song "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music. The phrase "When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling bad" fit her perfectly today. The dog had attempted to bite her while they were playing and while crawling across my bedroom carpet after Lark she crawled over a bee which of course stung her for it!
Despite all that, the girls and Steve had the living room all picked up and the table cleared and dishes done when I got home from work. It had been a particularly bad day at work for me so I was very grateful for this.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Motherhood is "bisgusting"
Monday, September 13, 1993 Trina is 3, Lark is barely 1
Trina snuggled right in next to me as I nursed Lark this afternoon.
"Someday you'll be a mother," I remarked to Trina. "What do you think of that?"
She removed her finger from her mouth and replied, "Bisgusting."
My surprised response was, "Why is it disgusting to be a mother?"
She explained that she doesn't want to have to wear glasses all the time.
I told her she may not have to wear glasses. Then she wanted to know if she would have to be blind.
Trina snuggled right in next to me as I nursed Lark this afternoon.
"Someday you'll be a mother," I remarked to Trina. "What do you think of that?"
She removed her finger from her mouth and replied, "Bisgusting."
My surprised response was, "Why is it disgusting to be a mother?"
She explained that she doesn't want to have to wear glasses all the time.
I told her she may not have to wear glasses. Then she wanted to know if she would have to be blind.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Safe from Wolves
Wednesday, September 1st, 1993 Lark's 1st birthday -- I take a day off work -- Laura is 9 Jasmine is 8 Margret is 6 Trina is 3
It's 10:30 p.m. and I have a staff meeting to conduct in the morning. I have classical music playing on the stereo but it has no effect on Trina and Lark who are frollicking on my bed where I would prefer to be sleeping at this moment. We've just got the other girls to bed.
I tried taking photos of all Lark's activities today, missed some though.
This morning at 10:30 Lark was fussy so I resigned myself to taking a walk with her rather than try to finish addressing postcards to my scrapbook business customers. I decided to take Trina and Lark to the park to collect pine-cones to make into Christmas crafts. Lark fell asleep in the stroller on the way. On the way back home Trina complained that her legs were hurting. I wanted to get home so we could really relax rather than make numerous rest stops. She clung to a fence. I lightly slapped her hand. She cried. I squatted down to her level and put my arms around her. Then, (I can't believe I did this), I told her if she were a little pioneer girl acting like this she would be left behind for the wolves. We managed to get home.
We live in a quiet, secluded cul-de-sac. Lark was asleep in the stroller so I told Trina to sit on the step and watch her while I ran to the bathroom. The washer and dryer are in the downstairs bathroom so I rotated the laundry before returning to bring the girls in. I couldn't have been gone even five minutes.
In the meantime Trina had actually lifted the stroller with Lark in it up the two steps and over the threshold into the house! She told me she "Didn't want the bees and wolves to get to Lark." Of course Lark was awake by now. It served me right. I had to laugh. Annoyed, I scolded Trina but I told her I knew she meant well. It was my fault.
I didn't get Lark to sleep again til 2:30. Then I read to Trina til 3:00 and I was so tired I had to lay down. The big girls would be home from school in a half hour. That rascal Trina wasn't about to nap. In fact, she trimmed her hair while I was dozing. I swatted her bottom once and she lay down and was instantly asleep. This was just minutes before the big girls came trooping in.
Margret wanted to play at Melissa's. Jasmine went in the back yard to play with the dog. Laura briefed me about the fund-raiser sales drive-- candy again.
Now it was time to fix dinner and the cake and so the evening went. Steve got home at about 4:30. I got my business postcards mailed. I'm so glad I took the day off work. It's nice to focus on my family without the distraction and interupption of work. We helped the girls with homework, talked with them, coached them.
It's 10:30 p.m. and I have a staff meeting to conduct in the morning. I have classical music playing on the stereo but it has no effect on Trina and Lark who are frollicking on my bed where I would prefer to be sleeping at this moment. We've just got the other girls to bed.
I tried taking photos of all Lark's activities today, missed some though.
This morning at 10:30 Lark was fussy so I resigned myself to taking a walk with her rather than try to finish addressing postcards to my scrapbook business customers. I decided to take Trina and Lark to the park to collect pine-cones to make into Christmas crafts. Lark fell asleep in the stroller on the way. On the way back home Trina complained that her legs were hurting. I wanted to get home so we could really relax rather than make numerous rest stops. She clung to a fence. I lightly slapped her hand. She cried. I squatted down to her level and put my arms around her. Then, (I can't believe I did this), I told her if she were a little pioneer girl acting like this she would be left behind for the wolves. We managed to get home.
We live in a quiet, secluded cul-de-sac. Lark was asleep in the stroller so I told Trina to sit on the step and watch her while I ran to the bathroom. The washer and dryer are in the downstairs bathroom so I rotated the laundry before returning to bring the girls in. I couldn't have been gone even five minutes.
In the meantime Trina had actually lifted the stroller with Lark in it up the two steps and over the threshold into the house! She told me she "Didn't want the bees and wolves to get to Lark." Of course Lark was awake by now. It served me right. I had to laugh. Annoyed, I scolded Trina but I told her I knew she meant well. It was my fault.
I didn't get Lark to sleep again til 2:30. Then I read to Trina til 3:00 and I was so tired I had to lay down. The big girls would be home from school in a half hour. That rascal Trina wasn't about to nap. In fact, she trimmed her hair while I was dozing. I swatted her bottom once and she lay down and was instantly asleep. This was just minutes before the big girls came trooping in.
Margret wanted to play at Melissa's. Jasmine went in the back yard to play with the dog. Laura briefed me about the fund-raiser sales drive-- candy again.
Now it was time to fix dinner and the cake and so the evening went. Steve got home at about 4:30. I got my business postcards mailed. I'm so glad I took the day off work. It's nice to focus on my family without the distraction and interupption of work. We helped the girls with homework, talked with them, coached them.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Back to School
Monday, August 30, 1993 Laura is 9, Jasmine is 8, Margret is 6, Trina is 3, and Lark is 11 months
My, how peaceful it is -- but not for long. Oh, Autumn Days, I do so love them. My two babies (Trina & Lark) are napping and my big girls are all at school. My husband is at work. I think to myself, "These are the happiest days of my life--all filled up with the needs of my children."
When I'm faced with a chunk of time I think, "What do I do first?" Read? Scrapbook? Sew? Craft? Tend to my poor neglected yard? Mend? Cook?
This afternoon I mended because baby Lark played contentedly in this room while I worked. And also possibly because I mended a dress just this morning for Jasmine to wear to the first day of school.
Here's how the morning went...
All the girls were so excited today. They woke at 6 a.m., got up, dressed, and ran out to feed the dog.
Laura was hoping to wear the t-shirt dress which she embroidered last spring but I hadn't finished sewing it. She was a good sport about the change in plans.
Jasmine had laid out a pink shorts outfit but changed her mind this chill morning. When I got up she was wearing pants which were stained and torn at the knees and tennis shoes totally ragged from much wear. I sewed some buttons on a dress in mending and she wore that.
Margret wore a hand-me-down dress from one of my co-worker's daughters.
Yesterday we were busy to late in the evening moving furniture and belongings around in the girls' downstairs bedrooms.
Back to the moment... Lark only slept a few minutes. Trina has slept for two and a half hours.
Later... 10:45 p.m.
The girls are all in bed (except Lark who slept an hour and a half this evening). Steve is at work again. Lark is fussing. Must stop.
My, how peaceful it is -- but not for long. Oh, Autumn Days, I do so love them. My two babies (Trina & Lark) are napping and my big girls are all at school. My husband is at work. I think to myself, "These are the happiest days of my life--all filled up with the needs of my children."
When I'm faced with a chunk of time I think, "What do I do first?" Read? Scrapbook? Sew? Craft? Tend to my poor neglected yard? Mend? Cook?
This afternoon I mended because baby Lark played contentedly in this room while I worked. And also possibly because I mended a dress just this morning for Jasmine to wear to the first day of school.
Here's how the morning went...
All the girls were so excited today. They woke at 6 a.m., got up, dressed, and ran out to feed the dog.
Laura was hoping to wear the t-shirt dress which she embroidered last spring but I hadn't finished sewing it. She was a good sport about the change in plans.
Jasmine had laid out a pink shorts outfit but changed her mind this chill morning. When I got up she was wearing pants which were stained and torn at the knees and tennis shoes totally ragged from much wear. I sewed some buttons on a dress in mending and she wore that.
Margret wore a hand-me-down dress from one of my co-worker's daughters.
Yesterday we were busy to late in the evening moving furniture and belongings around in the girls' downstairs bedrooms.
Back to the moment... Lark only slept a few minutes. Trina has slept for two and a half hours.
Later... 10:45 p.m.
The girls are all in bed (except Lark who slept an hour and a half this evening). Steve is at work again. Lark is fussing. Must stop.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
A Day Off
Friday, August 6, 1993 Laura is 9, Jasmine is 8, Margret is 6, Trina is 3, Lark is 11 months
Today is my day off. I indulged in sleeping in. I got up with Steve at 7, made a quick bathroom stop, got a drink, rotated the laundry, and nursed the baby. He gave Lark her madicine and soothed her back to sleep before leaving for his first appointment.
Several hours later I begin resurfacing to consciousness. Lark is awake. I pick her up to nurse her again and Margret joins us. She sings us each a song of her own spontaneous composition featuring our names and what we mean to her.
I put Lark down on the floor and begin reading a book I am enjoying (Mama Makes Up Her Mind by Bailey White). I am nearly finished and it was due two days ago so I want to finish before beginning the activities of the day. (I don't).
Pretty soon Margret returns, announcing she and Jasmine are going over to Nikki's to begin a club. I seize the moment to "teach responsibility" (e.g. get them to do their chores), so I ask...
"Is your bed made?"
"Yes."
"Are your dirty clothes in the laundry?"
"Yes."
"Is your floor completely picked up?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to inspect."
They scamper off. Delay tactic #1 works. They return.
"Have you eaten your breakfast?"
They scamper off. Delay tactic #2 works. They return.
"Is the living room picked up?"
Collective "groan".
"One of you stack all the flat objects and the other one pile everything else into a box."
By some miracle they negotiate these instructions quickly and without too much grumbling or fighting.
As they leave for Nikki's I suggest to Margret that she not take her purse. I notice she takes it.
Laying there reading in the quiet of the morning with only the muted sounds of cartoon watching downstairs my ears perk to the distinct sound of a dribbling faucet. Did someone turn on the outside tap? I set aside my book and get out of bed to step across the room and look out the window. I push aside the curtains and see only the glare of the morning sun as it filters through the screen of branches and leaves of the giant locust in front of our northeast facing room. Then I glance down at the floor in my room. There on our shag green carpet is little Trina, curled by our bed under a "blankie".
"Hmmm," I wonder. I nudge her a little with my foot. A darker wetter spot on my carpet is revealed. The mystery of the dribbling faucet sound is solved.
I get up and get Trina up and going. Trina wants "broken bread in a bowl sprinkled with pink milk powder and soaked with milk" for breakfast. I prefer a bowl of Life cereal topped with cornflakes. Lark gets some riced rice which is more a finger dexterity exercise than a meal for her. I thumb through a magazine over breakfast.
Lark is fussy so I take her back upstairs and nurse her while reading. Laura and Trina are playing at dressing up. Laura is sporting a wrist wrap of white mesh. Trina informs me, "It is for getting married."
I lose myself in my book but must resurface each time I hear Trina squal to determine if it's serious or not. Laura and Trina are having a shouting match. Trina comes crying to me, saying that "Laura is calling me names." Trina now has the white mesh and is wearing it as a veil. She tells me, "Laura is playing the game wrong."
I notice Lark has dozed so I again set aside my book to take a shower and dress. Trina shadows me. In the bathroom she announces, "your bottom jiggles." I think to myself, "Thanks a lot for shattering my illusion of youth and sveltness." She tries to make off with my deoderant because it is in a yellow container which for Trina means it must belong to her. I fear I will never find it again.
Laura has donned a wide-brimmed floppy red dress-up hat and an ankle length white skirt of gathered tiers, each tier marked by a strip of bias tape in the primary colors and green (a yard-sale find). Trina is in a patchwork Cinderella dress-up (which I actually made and wore in my high school days).
I am now, finally, dressed--wearing a yellow "beefy-t" and jeans, my hair pulled back and up. No make-up today. The wanderers have returned. They are all coloring, using Laura's markers (after some tips on negotiating from me). Lark is awake from a coughing fit. I will pick her up as I finish this.
Today is my day off. I indulged in sleeping in. I got up with Steve at 7, made a quick bathroom stop, got a drink, rotated the laundry, and nursed the baby. He gave Lark her madicine and soothed her back to sleep before leaving for his first appointment.
Several hours later I begin resurfacing to consciousness. Lark is awake. I pick her up to nurse her again and Margret joins us. She sings us each a song of her own spontaneous composition featuring our names and what we mean to her.
I put Lark down on the floor and begin reading a book I am enjoying (Mama Makes Up Her Mind by Bailey White). I am nearly finished and it was due two days ago so I want to finish before beginning the activities of the day. (I don't).
Pretty soon Margret returns, announcing she and Jasmine are going over to Nikki's to begin a club. I seize the moment to "teach responsibility" (e.g. get them to do their chores), so I ask...
"Is your bed made?"
"Yes."
"Are your dirty clothes in the laundry?"
"Yes."
"Is your floor completely picked up?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to inspect."
They scamper off. Delay tactic #1 works. They return.
"Have you eaten your breakfast?"
They scamper off. Delay tactic #2 works. They return.
"Is the living room picked up?"
Collective "groan".
"One of you stack all the flat objects and the other one pile everything else into a box."
By some miracle they negotiate these instructions quickly and without too much grumbling or fighting.
As they leave for Nikki's I suggest to Margret that she not take her purse. I notice she takes it.
Laying there reading in the quiet of the morning with only the muted sounds of cartoon watching downstairs my ears perk to the distinct sound of a dribbling faucet. Did someone turn on the outside tap? I set aside my book and get out of bed to step across the room and look out the window. I push aside the curtains and see only the glare of the morning sun as it filters through the screen of branches and leaves of the giant locust in front of our northeast facing room. Then I glance down at the floor in my room. There on our shag green carpet is little Trina, curled by our bed under a "blankie".
"Hmmm," I wonder. I nudge her a little with my foot. A darker wetter spot on my carpet is revealed. The mystery of the dribbling faucet sound is solved.
I get up and get Trina up and going. Trina wants "broken bread in a bowl sprinkled with pink milk powder and soaked with milk" for breakfast. I prefer a bowl of Life cereal topped with cornflakes. Lark gets some riced rice which is more a finger dexterity exercise than a meal for her. I thumb through a magazine over breakfast.
Lark is fussy so I take her back upstairs and nurse her while reading. Laura and Trina are playing at dressing up. Laura is sporting a wrist wrap of white mesh. Trina informs me, "It is for getting married."
I lose myself in my book but must resurface each time I hear Trina squal to determine if it's serious or not. Laura and Trina are having a shouting match. Trina comes crying to me, saying that "Laura is calling me names." Trina now has the white mesh and is wearing it as a veil. She tells me, "Laura is playing the game wrong."
I notice Lark has dozed so I again set aside my book to take a shower and dress. Trina shadows me. In the bathroom she announces, "your bottom jiggles." I think to myself, "Thanks a lot for shattering my illusion of youth and sveltness." She tries to make off with my deoderant because it is in a yellow container which for Trina means it must belong to her. I fear I will never find it again.
Laura has donned a wide-brimmed floppy red dress-up hat and an ankle length white skirt of gathered tiers, each tier marked by a strip of bias tape in the primary colors and green (a yard-sale find). Trina is in a patchwork Cinderella dress-up (which I actually made and wore in my high school days).
I am now, finally, dressed--wearing a yellow "beefy-t" and jeans, my hair pulled back and up. No make-up today. The wanderers have returned. They are all coloring, using Laura's markers (after some tips on negotiating from me). Lark is awake from a coughing fit. I will pick her up as I finish this.
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