Mommy, Can We Talk For a Minute?

This phrase, when uttered by my elder daughter, now has the power to still my heart...but when I hear it from my sweet, happy second-grader, I typically don't worry that much...until now. Sara's somber appeal early this morning led us to the living room love seat while the house was still quiet, where she explained that she had a crush on a boy from her first-grade class. "How do I get him to notice me when school starts if we're in different classes?"

As if he could help it, I think with a smile. But I do my job and keep a straight face throughout this discussion. I explain that there's still a chance she could wind up in the same class as Hank again, but if she didn't, the best strategy at her age was to simply talk to him and become his friend.

"But what do I say?" she asks.

I tell her she can't really script their conversations, but a good starting point would be to go up to him on the playground and ask him how his summer was. I suggest she ask questions about his family and what he liked to do to get to know him better.

At this, her brow furrows slightly, and she looks up at me, clearly puzzled.

"Wait...do I have to actually listen to his answers or can I just ask the questions?"

Good luck, Hank...

Heat Wave...

It's 105 degrees today. Yesterday, it was 107. No kidding, that's actually the temperature, not the heat index. The heat index is somewhere north of 115, making sitting still indoors the only suitable activity for any reasonable family. I'm making two pitchers of lemonade per day and cooking as little as possible...and as a result of the heat wave, I've been watching a lot of movies with the girls. Last night, Sara announced that she'd "always wanted to see Gone With the Wind." Always. As in all 7 years of her existence....sure...okay. And so, after a brief warning regarding the violence that took place during the Civil War, I downloaded the epic on Netflix and we began watching. Both of them were immediately enthralled. Sara was very concerned about the slavery issue--rightly so--and a history lesson ensued. But she instantly took a shine to Scarlett, telling me she was "one cool chick."

Emily was interested on a more mature level, of course, asking whether the book would be appropriate for her to read at this age and marveling at what a feat it must have been to make such a film in 1939. At the end, she announced, "That was actually excellent!" Grandma is going to be pleased...

Today, it was Father of the Bride, the 90s version with Steve Martin. Again, the girls dove right in, laughing hysterically at Frank the wedding coordinator and dad's exaggerated reactions to spending money on the wedding. Following one such scene, Sara turned to me and pointedly asked: "So exactly how much are you willing to spend on my wedding? I'd like to have an idea of the budget going in."

I laughed, and suggested with a wink that maybe she won't get married, and will stay with me forever instead. She looked pityingly at me, and put her hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll wait until I'm at least 20."

Something tells me I'll be offering her money to elope...

The Referee

It's been awhile since I wrote anything...I would like to say that's because things have been smooth sailing...but that would be a bit of a fabrication. With the long-anticipated advent of summer vacation comes a new title dreaded by moms worldwide: Referee.

Tonight, as I was chopping onions, Sara trudged into the kitchen and sadly announced, "Mommy, I could use a little advice. Emily is getting meaner by the day, and she just isn't the sister I've grown up loving anymore."

Now what mother in the universe could ignore this kind of appeal from her seven-year-old? Only one without a soul, I tell you. Plus, I had been listening to their bickering for days, and thought it best to seize the opportunity and consider it a teaching moment. So I encouraged her to tell her sister how she felt, and called Emily into the kitchen, where I had them both sit down at the table. Sara repeated her concerns to her sister, who angrily responded, "well, you've been Little Miss Sassy-pants yourself lately!" I reminded them to watch their tone and be respectful. Emily then calmly told her sister that it hurt her feelings when Sara refused to let her play with her Zoobles, even though she wasn't using them, and that's what made her mad. I agreed that it seemed like an inconsiderate thing for Sara to do. Sara's response? "You know, I think we're getting a little off-subject here..."

Although I was able to briefly negotiate a truce, within a half hour they were screaming at each other again. After a couple of warnings, both girls were sent to bed without dinner, which is actually a first for me. At present, Little Bit is fast asleep. Emily is crying quietly, lamenting her general lot in life and the horrible, evil mother she was cursed with...and I am still in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine while I pack up leftovers.