10 million miles

…let your mom do your child’s laundry.

The situation: Vivienne spent a glorious week with my parents. Before sending Vivienne back to us, my mom offered to wash all of her clothes. I said, “oh no, Mom, don’t worry about that; you’ve done so much for us already”. Of course, she did it anyway.

The pay-off: All week long - when I dress Viv in the morning, hug her before bed, wrestle her in the afternoon, kiss her at night - I inhale glorious whiffs of the Tide and Downy that for years has been home. And it makes me miss my mommy.

(Even though I’m sure my mom had no ulterior motives (and I really mean that), I’ll be sure to remember this tactic when my own grandchildren visit me; it’s a fabulous subliminal way to enforce your scent upon them and their parents, causing them to pine for you for weeks to come… Actually, this is a fabulous tactic to enhance any type of relationship, really. In fact, if I’m offering to do your laundry for you, you’ll know that I’m just trying to secure whiffs of myself in your subconscious heart.)

P.S. Thanks, Mom, for lightening our load (literally!) and filling our home with thoughts of you!

In this day of mp3’s and iPods, we have a few too many broken records around our place. Broken records that sound like this, “How could you say that politely?” “How could you say that politely?” “How could you say that politely?” and “Could you please say please?” “Could you please say please?” “Could you please say please?” “Could you please say please?”

I don’t know about Vivienne, but I’m about tired of the old technology and the repetition. SO, today, we are celebrating our first annual what Vivienne calls, “Say Please Day is On Its Way”.

How to Celebrate: Each person in our family must say “please” the first time that she asks for something or else she doesn’t get it. Period. No second chances. No ten second delay. It’s brutal. It’s “Say Please Day is On Its Way”.

Vivienne thinks it’s fun. And she has only missed out on a few little things all day. Of course, she hasn’t eaten all day and she hasn’t yet said the “please” to allow her to go the bathroom, but I think she’s really getting the point. (I’m SO TOTALLY KIDDING about all of that, ya know.) Actually, I am breathing a sigh of relief that she has caught on quickly so that I can follow through with “the rules of the game”.

In fact, she has caught on so well, that when she forgets, she quickly adds a “please” to an alternative. For example,

V: I want some milk!

M: Sorry, dude. You didn’t say please! No milk for you.

V: Please may I have some juice?

M: Absolutely!

You may call it compromise; I call it strategy. Hey, she’s saying “please”, isn’t she?

I had a hunch that this would work because we employed something similar on a smaller scale in the car. When Vivienne would like us to play a certain CD or turn the volume up, she must say “please” with her request the first time or else we turn the music off for the remainder of that particular car ride. Of course, we happily remind her that she gets a brand new chance the next time we get into the car. Since instating the rule and following through with it even when it hurts, I think she’s only forgotten a total of two times.

So, we might have national “Say Please Day is On Its Way” Day a couple days in row to strengthen those “say please” muscles. Hopefully, we’ll be tossing out a couple of those broken records by the weekend.

Vivienne: “Look, Mom! I reached it all by myself! I am SOOOO reach-y!”

Getting It to Stick

Instead of correcting Vivienne’s grammar at every turn, I’ve always just snuck in the “right” way to say something after her. For example, when trying to stick one of those suction cup balls to the floor, Vivienne proclaimed, “It sticked!” Joining her enthusiasm, I said, “Wow! It stuck!” I noticed that the rest of the day, she said, “It stuck! It stuck!”

I find that the moment I look a baby in the eyes, our whole universe settles into a peaceable place where that baby is an active giver and I am an active receiver, balancing out the otherwise “needy baby”/ “generous mommy” paradigm that fills the day.  In that baby’s eyes, I see a recognition of sorts that she knew all along she could meet my need to be so easily loved.  I just had to look.

As a child grows from 1, to 2, to 3 years old, it’s a bit more difficult to make eye contact as those little eyes dart all over the room, somersaulting, coloring, crying, laughing, and exploring. But, when I look a child in the eyes, our whole universe settles into a companionable place where the child can see my admiration and I, hers. In that child’s eyes, I see a recognition of sorts that she knew all along she could be my bosom friend just as I always wanted. I just had to keep looking.

Passing by our neighbor’s freshly paved driveway, Vivienne asked why they had a green ribbon tied from one post to another across the driveway. I explained that the ribbon would remind everyone not to drive or walk on the driveway until it dried. In a moment of realization that our neighbors were tucked nicely in their house at the time and might like to emerge at some point, Vivienne exclaimed, “What about them?! They can’t carry themselves!”

It was then that we realized the freedom of “outside of the lines”: walking through the grass…

And it was then that I fell in love all over again with my daughter’s imagination: that thin, elderly, garden-loving couple trying to pick up their own gangly feet and legs to somehow float down their own driveway…

‘Don’t know why there’s a trend amongst pasta sauce, beer and/ or flag makers to create amusement parks, but it must be the thing to do. I’m not complaining, because Del Grosso’s has created a charming little park that’s just perfect for kids. You can ride a caterpillar roller coaster for the first time (just ask Vivienne), enjoy your first merry-go-round ride (ask Lia for details about that one), get drenched by a massive bucket of water being dumped on your head seven times (ask Jared), or cruise around in the bumper cars with your Grandpop (ask Evan).

I hope you enjoy these photos as Vivienne, Lia, and I join Grandmom, Grandpop, Jared and Evan for a refreshing day in the sun.

Vivienne and I just finished reading aloud the first of The Boxcar Children series. Vivienne adored the drama of four children trying to escape from the selfish bakers, the adventure of building a swimming pool, and the intensity of Violet’s illness (of course). I loved the way the children spoke so kindly to each other, looked out for one another, worked diligently, and enhanced Vivienne’s make-believe: now, she knows how to set up a home with her little wagon, a trip to “the dump”, a handful of black walnuts, and a shovel. If you’re in the market for one, this is a top recommendation for a preschool read-aloud.