Mrs. Sippy

“What can daddies fix?” My Dad used to ask me, as he popped a head back onto a Barbie doll.

“Anything!” I would scream enthusiastically.

It wasn’t until I was a teenager, bummed out from the end of a high school romance, heartbroken by the death of a loved one, or disappointed in myself for a not so great grade, that my Dad confessed something to me. He couldn’t really fix EVERYTHING. Give him a toy, any toy, and he could repair it with super glue. But a broken heart? Not so much.

As parents we want to fix everything for our children, but sometimes that just isn’t possible. Earlier this week Leah came to me and told me that her best friend in the whole world is moving away.

“She’s moving really far,” Leah said, her eyes welling up. “They are staying with some lady her Daddy knows named Mrs. Sippy.”

I swallowed back my chuckle at her misunderstanding that they are actually moving to Mississippi and hugged my daughter. It was Tuesday morning and they were leaving on Friday. I didn’t know what to do. Was it best to fill the week with playdates so that she could savor these last few moments with her first best friend, or would it be better to distract her with other things?

I decided that play dates were the way to go, and my week has therefore been filled with the sounds of little girl laughter and Taylor Swift drifting out of Leah’s bedroom, paining teeny tiny little finger nails, and watching as the girls ran around the house screaming, as my husband was chasing them around with our remote control flying shark.

Today will be the little girl’s last day at school, and tonight they leave for their new home. My heart is broken, but probably not as much as Leah’s. I have done the best I can to cheer her up, but nothing I can do will really make it better.

Over the course of Kindergarten I have had the pleasure of meeting several of Leah’s friends, but out of all of them, little ‘M’ and her sister were such a pleasure to have playing at my house. They are sweet and polite, and they all had a great time playing together. I am sure that Leah will have many friends that will come and go, but I truly hope that she will never forget her first “bestie”.

Table Manners

It’s funny how a second child learns things that were such difficult concepts for the first child, with ease. Just from observing the rest of us, Christopher already uses a fork. One day I gave him one, just to see what happened. I fully expected him to play with it and then throw it on the floor. Nope, he immediately picked it up, stabbed a piece of food and ate it. All while giving me a look that said, “Finally! I was so tired of eating with my hands like some barbarian!”

Of course, don’t get me wrong, he still totally double fists his mac and cheese when it is just so delicious and he is so hungry that he doesn’t have the patience for utensils. And he puts his piggies up on the table and laughs, and occasionally throws food on the floor for the dog we don’t have.

But, when he is finished with his meal, he puts his fork and cup on this plate, and gently pushes the whole thing towards me. I don’t know where he learned that, but I think he is well on his way to growing up a gentleman.

Pot Holder Paradox

One of CW’s favorite things to do when I am in the kitchen doing anything is to open up the drawers and pull everything out. I have baby locks on the drawers that contain knives, but there are two that he can get into. One houses all of his bibs, and the other all of my dish cloths and pot holders.

I used to have five pot holders. Two were matching sets, and then one random one. About a month ago I realized that I was missing two pot holders, one from each of the sets. I searched high and low, but I couldn’t find the darn things anywhere!

Chris has a habit of moving things around on me, but usually I find whatever he hid within a few days. This time a few days passed by, and then a few more, and then a couple of weeks. Still no pot holders!

I had all but given up, figuring I would find them someday down the road when we are packing up to move or something. Then yesterday I took the kids down the road to the recycling center. I use those reusable shopping bags to hold the recycling in my pantry. When two or three of them are full, we go to the center and dump everything out.

Leah gleefully helped me pluck milk jugs from the bags, one by one, and watched as they tumbled down the shoot. It was cute, but the wind was blowing and I was getting antsy, so I picked up the last bag and said to Leah,

“Watch this!” as I dumped the entire contents down the shoot.

And then I watched as two pot holders fluttered gracefully and landed atop the pile of plastic, glass, cardboard, and newspaper below. Well…mystery solved!