Without opening her eyes, she replied, “Well, let’s go dance in it!”

I fall short so often on this parenting thing, but I’m going to take this as proof I’m doing something right.

1. Abby is reading. I don’t mean sounding out things like cat and hat, I mean reading, reading. For the most part, this is a wonderful thing. What Matt and I didn’t think through was that apparently a large amount of our parenting relied on her illiteracy. Case in point:

Me: “Oh, no, nope, we can’t go in there. That store is closed right now. Oh well, maybe next time.”

Abby: “O-P-E-N. It says it’s open. The other sign says, Tuesday 10-8 and our clock says it’s 10 and I know it’s Tuesday, so it is open. And that door right there says E-N-T-E-R, that means we can go in there. Oh, and look! S-A-L-E! There’s a sale! We can buy lots of stuff! Lets go. Good thing you have me with you, right Mom? Or you wouldn’t have known it was open!”

2. On Monday I am expected to walk my child into a building where I don’t know anyone and my kid doesn’t know anyone and I am supposed to then leave my kid there with the strangers and go about my day as if nothing is wrong. As if that is not crazy enough, I’ve been told I then need to repeat that procedure every day for the next 13 years.

3. I’ve already been invited to join some of these strangers for a gathering that is – no joke – called the “Boo-hoo breakfast” where apparently we all sit together, cry over pastries and bond through heartache while our children are a few doors down having the time of their lives.

4. I have the best friend a girl can have. She has reminded me that nothing good can come from blubbering amongst strangers – especially as a first impression!- so I will be skipping the formal cry-fest and instead bawling my eyes out over baked goods in the privacy of her home. The fact that she has two adorable children that I can cling to is an added bonus.

5. Abby is trying to sell her artwork. I thought it was a one-day phase, but I was wrong. She’s given this more thought than I imagined as this morning she informed me of her business plan: “Kids will like these pictures but not all kids have money. Parents have money. So I’m going to show kids the pictures but I’m going to sell them to the parents.” Every picture she colors, draws, or paints now has an arbitrary number written on it that she declares is the price. One day I’ll look back on the mementos I’ve kept from her childhood and have a huge gap from this summer as she refuses to let me keep anything without first paying for it.

6. Matt is taking the table business to the next level soon. We’ve registered for a business name and as soon as I’m escorted/forced out of the elementary next week, I’ll be working on a simple website.

7. Matt had Abby help him plane boards last week. Abby told him since she’s helping build the tables, she should get half the money. He just stared at her. She looked at me and said, “I think it’s a deal.” She then started trying to negotiate the selling price of the tables with him. So I guess it’s a family business now.

8. Abby really wanted us to name the business “Erica’s Beautiful Tables”. We don’t know anyone named Erica. She doesn’t know anyone named Erica. She still insists it’s a great name.

9. We have not named the business “Erica’s Beautiful Tables.”

10. As of this month, Matt and I have been married for 9 years. I realize it isn’t a terribly long time, but something about the fact that I am 30 and my husband knew me when I was 19 makes me feel old.

11. In those 9 years, we have eaten breakfast together at home on a weekday morning maybe 5 times. Seriously. One of us has always had to leave for work considerably earlier than the other. Starting Monday, I have to get Abby to school about the same time Matt has to leave for work. He is deliriously excited about “family breakfasts”. He says we’ve had 9 years of marriage not seeing each other in the morning and won’t this be great? I say we’ve had 9 years of marriage precisely BECAUSE we haven’t seen each other in the mornings. He is a morning person. I am not. He is picturing Leave It To Beaver cheer and discussions. I am picturing my face falling into a bowl of cereal as I nod off mid-sentence.

12. I can’t think of better blog material than Abby in school so this site should be hopping along again soon.

{I’m sure everyone else assumes their drinks come without hair, but my kid takes after me in the hating of drinks with pulp in them and since “pulp” isn’t in every two year old’s vocabulary, she’s been referring to it as “hairs” for the last three years. And we understand her, so why bother correcting it, right?}

I had no issue with the question (it happens every time we buy Orange Juice too) until I had a random flash of life imitating art and pictured my child growing into Meg Ryan’s character from When Harry Met Sally and a conversation in the future going like this:

“I’d like a lemonade please. But only if it doesn’t have hairs in it. If you don’t have lemonade without hairs, I’ll take a Dr. Pepper but only if it’s a real Dr. Pepper, not if it’s a Mr. Pibb. If you only have Mr. Pibb then I’ll take a Cherry Coke. I’d like two cherries in it with the stems attached. If you don’t have cherries, then just scratch the order and bring me a water with lemon. I obviously need the lemons on the side though so the water doesn’t end up having hairs in it. Thank you.”

Abby: Bacon is healthy for you.

Me: Not really.

Abby: It is if it isn’t dipped in syrup.

Me: Did you just dip your bacon in syrup?

Abby: Yes.

Me: So it isn’t healthy?

Abby: Only the bite that had the syrup on it isn’t healthy. The rest is good for me.

—————————————————————————————————–

Abby {after opening a fortune cookie}: What does this paper say?

Me: “Your deepest dream will come true.”

Abby: That’s a lie. You know why?

Me: Why?

Abby: Because my deepest dream is to have a unicorn pet. But unicorns don’t exist so it can’t come true.

Who knew the full gauntlet of emotions could happen in half an hour?

That being said, here are my immediate thoughts and prayers:

1. I’m praying for Abby’s teacher. Not only because my kid is my kid and there’s a good chance she’ll talk too much, but because I desperately want school to be something Abby enjoys and the teacher has a big hand in making that happen. I’m praying for a teacher with patience, creativity, humor, gentleness and a love for the Lord. I’m praying Abby gets to spend the next year with an adult who nurtures instead of hinders, who inspires instead of stifles and who guides instead of forces.

2. I’m praying for Abby’s spirit. Right now my daughter thinks nothing of telling the grocery store cashier that God is in charge of everything. She has no problem praying for a meal while the waitress stands by her side. She doesn’t hesitate to sing praise songs at the top of her lungs while friends and teachers and neighbors listen. I’m praying witnessing remains easy. That she never fears proclaiming God’s love because she never stops.

3. I’m praying for my attitude. It’s so easy to joke about not wanting my baby to grow up but the truth is, I can’t wait for it to happen. Not so she’ll leave me, but because I’m excited about seeing the girl and the woman she becomes. I can’t wait for her to make her own friends and discover her own passions. For as much as I loved those baby and toddler days, I’m looking forward to these next ten years even more. And I don’t ever want her to feel like I love her more now than I will then. So I’m praying that the tears shed over the first day of school will be minimal and I’ll be swept up in the excitement with her and leave the reminiscing for another time.

Without help from me, she read:

“I will help, Father. Sally wants to help but she is a baby.”

And then something happened.

She guffawed (seriously) and declared in utter frustration, “This is crazy! No, she isn’t! Sally is NOT a baby. Come on!”

Not only did my girl read today, but she questioned dialogue. She found fault with plot. She verbally admonished the characters and the author. Dick and Jane did not put one over on her.

I couldn’t be prouder.

Do other moms write stuff like this in the memory books?

No?

It’s just me?

Really?

Wrong.

Today I walked out to find this disgusting thing growing in new spots near my tomatoes.

I immediately started researching (I’m a librarian after all) and I’m so upset with my findings that I don’t know what to do.

This thing that has made itself at home in my garden goes by the name of Fuligo Septica. Sounds like a smooth-talking Italian, right?

Sure. Until you realize that last name is awfully similar to septic and are you ready for the common name? Are you really sure you want to know?

DOG VOMIT SLIME MOLD.

That’s right.

There’s something growing near me that is called DOG VOMIT SLIME MOLD.

And that is EXACTLY what it looks like.

See:

(this is not my personal photograph of it because I love my camera and refuse to use it to take photos of something so awful)

Apparently it grows overnight. Apparently it isn’t harmful to anything but your eyes because of how unappealing it looks. And -get this – apparently, in some areas of Mexico they eat it with eggs and refer to it as “caca de luna”.

Anyone with a semester’s worth of Spanish class should know what that means. And anyone with any sense knows not to eat something that is called both dog vomit slime mold and caca de luna. And yet, both names are perfectly fitting.

My only hope is that squirrels will hate it as much as I do and quit eating my strawberries because of it.

Or maybe they’ll turn out to be foodie squirrels and declare the vomit caca to be a delicacy and choose to devour it instead of my berries which would be a win/win for me.

A girl can dream, right?

So for record-keeping purposes, here are a few snippets of how she passed the time:

“Has Matthew lost a tooth? I think he has. I think he lost one on the side I’m on.

Does Matthew know where my house is? Do his parents?

How come Levi knows Josh and I don’t?

I know my uncle Josh.

I think when I grow up I’m going to marry Uncle Josh.

{Here I interjected a comment about not marrying family or guys 25 years older than her. I couldn’t help it.}

Hmmm… there aren’t enough boys my age.

{And here I may have made an under-my-breath comment to the effect of ‘Preach it, sister’.}

I know! I know! I will marry Levi.

I made the right choice.

Levi and I will live in a beautiful house. You know, the white one on our street so you don’t have to drive far to get there.

How old do you think Nana is? Older than Josh?

Yeah, I think she’s 41 maybe.

{Here I mentioned that Nana would appreciate it and I also told her to stop talking.}

Tomorrow, I’m going to be in a band. Ok?

{Ok.}

Yes!

Wait, did you just say okay as imagination? Because I’m really going to be in a band.

I will be the only one in the band who can sing, know why? Because no one else will know what song I’m going to sing.

{Here I once again asked her nicely to please stop talking and rest.}

Daddy will be in my band.

The name of the band is “I can’t choose.”

Wait, I changed my mind. That’s the name of the song.

{Here she sang five minutes worth of a power ballad with the chorus of “I can’t choose”.}

Actually, I think that’s the name of the song and the band.

I would like to have soup and cotton candy for lunch tomorrow.

I know I ate all the soup, but we can go to the store and buy some more.

{Once again, only a louder and more insistent plea for quiet.}

Can we go to that baseball place again?

I like that place.

I won’t cheer for that guy that isn’t on our team again.

Why didn’t they want to keep him on our team?

{Desperate plea for silence.}

My tooth is really loose.

Is the tooth fairy the only fairy that’s real?

Tinkerbell is just pretend, right?

Hey, we’re almost in Denton.

Did I talk the whole way here?

That’s amazing.

I talk a bunch, right?

Do you want me to stop talking now?

Can I read a book before I go to bed?

{Near maniacal comment made that there will be no reading as it’s way past bedtime and there was no resting done on the drive home.}

Oh, I’ll rest. I’ll rest right now.

See?

My eyes are closed.

Do you see me resting?

So, can I read a book since I’m resting?

Oh, look!

We’re home!

{Open car door with loud sigh.}

Daddy- we’re going to be in a band tomorrow!

Do you want to hear the song I wrote?”

I am incredibly grateful for my little conversationalist.

I am equally as grateful for the quiet husband who immediately took her to her room and left me to fall over on the couch and weep silently to myself.

Today I gave thanks.

Today I cooked meals and washed laundry.

Today I ran two miles and watched the sweat pour off me.

Today I watered and weeded the garden.

Today I argued.

Today I read stories and played games.

Today I drove one hundred miles.

Today I took my daughter to her first baseball game.

Today I laughed with friends and cheered for strangers.

Today I grieved the loss of a loved one.

Today I bathed my child and prayed over her as I dried each strand of her hair.

Today I repented and asked forgiveness and forgave.

Today I took a walk.

Today I held my tongue.

Today I watched the wind blow away the clouds.

Today I taught students, answered emails and made phone calls.

Today I listened to a song on repeat because once wasn’t enough.

Today I took photos.

Today I disciplined my child.

Today I chased a butterfly and admired wildflowers.

Today I answered an endless stream of questions.

Today I bandaged a wound.

Today I watched the sun slip below the horizon.

And tonight I’m reminding myself that this was enough for one day.