The little girl and me, we’re hanging. Sunnyside is on vacation. The papa and the boys are on vacation. I really dislike the word staycation. Besides, I defy you to tell me a long chunk of every bedtime and every wakeup and most meltdowns in between is exactly cation, no matter where you are. It’s hanging. It’s life with a three-year-old.
We’re on day three now. Day one, a rainy morning trip to the Eric Carle Museum with our pal, Sophia. Highlights of the museum time included Angela (Sophia’s mama) reading her very own book, Say What at story time, re-meeting up with a fellow Farm and Wilderness staffperson in the studio—she was visiting—and of course, the clouds parting and the sun peeking back out so that we could play outside. There’s a wall childhood memories are made of there.
We zipped to Tuesday Market, reveled in the mere idea of a future pie contest and fast forward, made it to sleep by 8:30 (her, not me). Given that her day first began in the middle of the night, and included the dramatic very early morning farewell, I was amazed we made it all that way in relative good humor. She did go back to sleep after they left.
The very next day was my birthday. Hello, 48! Hello 5:45 AM! Saskia was excited. Some spoiled milk took us downtown. Start the birthday with a chocolate cupcake? Good idea! As Saskia would say, “Check.” She just ate the frosting; clearly, she is my girl.
I had the midday birthday treat of yoga class. I am a person who wants to like yoga more than I do, but I actually am putting this Yoga Sanctuary introductory offer to good use and have discovered the midday class is pretty straightforward, which is how I like my yoga. My 48 year-old-body’s actually thanking me. I could get hooked here. That’d be a very good thing.
Rest of the birthday’s midday treat: a stop at GoBerry for the most basic original. Birthdays require getting down to brass tacks.
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Meantime, from flowers hand delivered to wild blueberry muffins also hand delivered to cupcakes and a card hand delivered, calls, emails and a cascade of glorious birthday wishes over the ether and a trip to Herrell’s with Arella and family, otherwise really known as family, I could not have felt more loved. The boys plus papa sang to me over the telephone. Arella made me the very best card I’ve pretty much ever received.
Even with the outing, Saskia made it to sleep at 8:27 PM. Not that I’m counting or anything.
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In other developments, Saskia has begun telling jokes.
Saskia: Knock-knock.
Me: Who’s there?
Saskia: Banana.
Me: Banana who?
Saskia: Good thing I didn’t say, “flower.”
Cue our uncontrollable laughter.
I thought about a list of 48 good things, but I’m just going to leave you with three. One is obviously that joke. Two is that rather than talk to teenagers or even my dear spouse last night, I talked to two friends on the telephone. Three is that yoga or blue sky sunshine or heartfelt messages or interviewing a teenager in the afternoon or getting incredible help to avert the fridge disaster of 2011 in the afternoon, I was grateful all the day long for the day I was having. I don’t think anyone can ask for anything more than that.
