Thursday, September 27

Unicorns and Grownup Jobs- A Conversation

A few days ago, the Bees and I were cleaning up around the house. As it is physically impossible for us to clean in a quiet house, I had our Dance Party Clean Time Music playing. 
The Girl, who had previously been rocking fully out, came to whisper to me, "I need to add a thing to the list. I want to be a singer" The Girl has  a very detailed list of what she'd like to be when she grows up. Top of the list: Veterinarian. There are five things she'd like to be, and the bottom four rotate, but pet doc is always number one. 

I told her being a singer would be a great career choice. She paused, then asked, "Mommy, what do you want to be? When you're done, you know, being a mom?"

Oh, sister. I'll never be done being a mom, but someday I want to be a writer.


A writer.

Like... you want to go somewhere?

Not a rider, a writer. That's my dream.  Then I busted out in song (because that's how we do, yo. We're the Randomly Singing people who annoy you in Target. Sorry.). Channeling my best Mandy-Moore-as-Rapunzel:

"I got a dream, I got a dream, I just want to write a book that you can reeeeead!"

About unicorns?!
be still my Lisa Frank heart

Um. Well. Maybe

If you don't want to write about unicorns, Momma, you could write a non-fic-tion. That's when you tell it like it is. 

That's exactly right! I could look into nonfiction. 

Ooh! You can take prictures of things like bumblebees. You looove taking prictures. 

Do you think I could be a writer?

Yes! You could also write fiction. Do you know what fiction is? A fiction book is a thing that you can write that you make up all in you head with your imagination. Things like unicorns and dinosaurs. 

{for the record- we are not of the religious nor scientific persuasion that believe dinosaurs are fictitious. Though when you're six, you've got automatic license to lump unicorns and dinosaurs and dragons and dodo birds together, I guess.}

So, when I'm a writer, what will you be?


Oh, yes. That is true. 

Momma, can you write, "My daughter will have a lot of jobs. Like being an artist... being a doctor that looks at skeletons... I'd really like to be a mommy... or maybe be a food deliverer to stores {then she whispers, "that's my new one."} and of course... being an animal protector."

Yep. I just wrote it all down for you. 

Thanks, Mommy. Also, don't forget the unicorns.

Oh, girl, I'll never forget the unicorns.

Then we went back to dancing.
my little Rarity gif

Wednesday, September 12

Sending off the Second

August, 2009

August, 2012

When B the First went off to kindergarten, I had a lot of words about it. 

B the Second started school this year. I have an equal amount of words for her departure from my nest, but they're all still stuck in my heart. Most days, I'm ok with two-thirds of my brood in someone else's care. Some days, I am not. Other days still, I wish all three of them were somewhere else for eight hours a day. 

My small Ladybug is not so small anymore. At her 6-year checkup, the pediatrician said she falls in the 80th percentile for weight, and the 85th for height. She's a big girl now. A brave girl, a precious, sweet, heart-stealing girl

She's the anchor of my days, more than anybody else is. She's solid where the rest of us are fluid. She's still when we buzz about. At the same checkup, the doctor watched B the Third whizz-bang around the room, then looked at B the Second sitting patiently, legs crossed at the ankle, back straight as a rod, and said, "She's the one who keeps you sane, isn't she?" 

And now she's off beginning her life. 
Full of courage and kindness and frosting.