Aren't You Out of Your Mind??

Emma turned five today. She was extremely excited last night to realize that she would go to sleep four and wake up five. As you can see in this brief video clip, though, the milk and strawberry tart have clearly gone to her head. Party Sunday.

Could You Be More Specific?

"But how do the sperm get from the Daddy to the Mommy? Can they fly?"

Oops!

[said with just the right mix of annoyance and righteous indignation]: "God shouldn't have made mosquitos!" (Anyone have a good comeback for that? I didn't!)

Score One for Grammy

In the car today, we were talking about what it meant for God to bless us and naming things we were grateful for and talking about loving others as the way we can be most like God in the world and how we can be God's arms, ears, legs, etc. Emma said she really wanted to be God's feet. Who knows what metaphysical seeds were planted (or what the eventual therapy bill will be--guess we'd better start the fund now!) but later, Emma wanted to pray before dinner: "God, thank you for all the colors of the world and the green, green grass and the green leaves on the brown trees and that we don't just have white grass and that we don't just have white trees. And thank you for these things we have to drink and oh! I forgot thank you for the food and for clothes to wear and that Grammy knew to do her work and get me all these wonderful clothes. Please bless [insert everyone's names] and everyone in the whole world. Amen."

Who Can Get Me Underwear??

Today Emma said "Who can get me underwear?". I replied "Can't you get your own underwear?". She said it was a new game show. Whoever could get her underwear the quickest wins. I'll take what's behind the curtain, Monty! I wonder if we're just not getting out enough...

Out of the Blue

Recent Out-of-the-blue-isms:

"Why are my eyebrows moving?"
"Why can't I squeeze my head?"
"When can I pick up a turtle?"
"Mommy, you don't look like Snow White." (Hey, kid, let me explain middle age, thyroid disease and marriage to you...)
"Mommy, if we get a dog, could we name it Tippy?"

Creation Bus

Just catching up here. Here's a photo of Emma and her big cat Henry. Henry was named for the guy who gave him to her after his mom said, hey you're sixteen, this cat is just sitting in your closet, how about giving it to Emma?? This was after The Makeover. (Are we not fabulous??)

A prayer Emma offered completely out of the blue before a recent meal: "Thank you for the world. Thank you for this day. It was lovely. Remember this day when you took care of us. Thank you for making the world. AMEN!" (Seeing your child's original artwork or hearing her begin to verbalize prayers are such elemental validations of goodness and have provided some of my favorite parenting moments so far.)

Finally, one of Emma's little spontaneous rap numbers overheard the other day (this could be big): "God has more creation than us, we have more creation than God, we’re all on the creation bus..." (Please don't ask me what it means.)

Tornado Warning!!

When Emma heard there was a tornado watch in the area tonight, she immediately grabbed Toto and set up her storm cellar in the living room (after jumping around wildly when that mean old lady tried to steal Toto. Of course we had to start from the beginning of the soundtrack...) When the watch turned into a warning, we went into the kitchen & turned on the radio. No tornadoes in the immediate vicinity, although one did pass a few miles away--just quarter-sized hail. You just never know in Kansas--I mean Texas--apparently.

Dream Factory

Right before Emma goes to sleep, I often say to her I hope she has "silly" dreams (which are the best kind to have if you're four, apparently). Tonight, I also, as I sometimes do, told her that after she's asleep, we each kiss her on the cheek and Mommy often whispers something in her ear like "Mommy loves you" or "God loves you" or "You're going to have a great life" or something I want her to know deep in her heart. Her reply to me telling her all this tonight was that she had a factory inside her that made her dreams. They were made in her brain then they went down to her heart then out from the heart into the real world. Kerplunk! (I added the kerplunk.)

In less metaphysical matters, she seems to have crossed a key threshold in her soccer career in actually stepping onto the field during a game tonight--twice! Finally, the power of that leg will be unleashed upon an unsuspecting city. Be afraid, be very afraid! Her team is the Northaven Kangaroos. They play teams that are named things like the Gators and the Pickles. What would that do for corporate morale if, instead of R&D Applications Development, your department were named The Pickles? Get your dream factory working on that. You go, Tiger!!!

The Goat With a Coat in a Boat

Emma has re-discovered her enjoyment in naming things. Last night she once again made up names on the fly for all 20 bunnies in the story The Country Bunny. Today she told me that if she had two children, she would name them Javry and Mavry ("Not Mav-ER-y!"). Her inflatable monkey (actually and clandestinely, its second iteration) remains Cooches.

In other news, our huge bibbed purple irises on the side of the driveway have begun blooming, so I brought one inside and she asked if she could kiss it. This cute little girl habit started when Kent brought me red tulips for Valentine's Day and Emma and I practiced being very gentle with them. Kissing them as gently as possible was one thing she enjoyed doing and I enjoyed photographing.

Over the weekend, our church had its annual sunrise Easter service. Mercifully, it was held inside vs. at the lake in the freezing weather. (The last time it was this cold in Texas in April was the 1930s.) And, yes, the things one says to one's self in the car on the way at 6:15 am after stuffing Easter eggs then going to bed at midnight are decidedly un-edifying... Emma gave me a painting she'd recently done of a shining sun with a sky and asked if we could hang it up inside since we wouldn't have a real sunrise, which we did.

Today, we wrote our first joint publication. It is entitled "The Goat With a Coat in a Boat". Emma stapled the book together, did the title & end lettering, colored the illustrations, and we wrote the story together. I won't spoil the ending for you, but the dramatic tension is nicely resolved. This brought back fond memories for me of writing and illustrating tiny books when I was a girl. There was one about a cat and a mouse that no doubt mirrored my relationship with my sister, and one for my Mom about why she should stop smoking (which she did 30 years later, but I'm sure without the book it would have taken at least 35 years).

Shameless Emma Enjoyment

Some pics you might have missed from the past year or so:

"That's Not the Right Story!"

Every night for the past, oh, year and a half or so, after we turn out the lights to say goodnight to Emma, two stories must be told. She will let us know who is to tell each of these stories by issuing a familiar formulaic edict "Mommy; Daddy." The first named individual then proceeds to concoct a brand new story out of thin air. When that story is over, Emma (or someone else less drowsy) will say "That's not the right story!", at which time the second named individual (could be the same unlucky bloke) tells the story of a tiny baby girl who came home from the hospital with a perfect little nose, perfect little toes, etc., etc. but there was one little problem: she was too happy. She used to wake up in the middle of the night and feel like playing, which she did, even though "Mommy and Daddy were soooooo tired" until she had played enough and then everybody went to sleep. The end.