Dear Bazooka Jane,
The other day at Aldi you made the assumption that all other customers were there to see you (and by the end of the trip they were ). You announced your self and your shiny shoes and told everyone you are two. Except you're not. Yet. But it made me think. About you and the bursting little life inside you. All smiles and eyelashes and fearless joy. And the places they will take you. It made me think about the pieces of your little personality. And the enormous strength you already have.
Every time I take you to the beach you make a frank and furious bee line for the water. With you there is no pausing to test the temperature of the cold Atlantic blue one toe at a time. You just plow right in, as deep as you can go, until someone saves you from yourself or a wave knocks you flat. At which point, you will only laugh, pick your little self up and head right back in with an even bigger grin. Sweet thing, you terrify your mother. But I have to confess, there is a part of me that loves this. Not the idea that you have no sense of danger, so much. But the idea of living without fear, of seeking life and adventure with insatiable zest and gusto. Don't lose that. Temper it with some sense, if you please, but keep it alive if you can.
You and I each measure our will against the other, mine to keep you breathing oxygen, yours to discover what it means to be a fish. Most often the only compromise we can find is to waltz across the wet sand. You in my arms and the wind in our hair. One, two-three, slow, quick-quick. Tide washing over my feet and your sister contentedly gathering every pink rock on the beach behind our swirling resolution. I love this part. Every piece of it from the blue horizon to the gray rocks marking the perimeter. The smell, the breeze, the gentle sounds, and the cool spray on my legs. And my girl laughing with her eyes. I love it. Keep this part too. Keep your will and your drive and your ability to yield too. And never forget how to let someone sweep you off your feet and waltz, two-three, slow, quick-quick, into the breeze.
I love you, Crazy. Love,
Mama
Friday, July 16, 2010
Sneetches
I was in the kitchen getting dinner settled and a little laundry folded fresh and warm from the dryer. The girls were splashing in the tub with their Daddy standing guard. Our new house features a much deeper tub than our old one could boast and the splashing possibilities here are primo. I heard plenty of giggles and swim-itty sounds. Then when I entered the bathroom with towels in hand I caught the tail end of the game:
"Stand up Sweetie!" the Monkey would call, and up the little one would burst, water streaming off her like an ocean fleeing a new formed volcanic peak. Then promptly a bright colored foam letter was firmly placed over Lil' Blue's navel, an orange "X" marking the spot, or a green "A". She ever so proudly displayed her new belly adornment to the audience like one of Suess' Sneetches fresh out of the magic machine with spanking new "stars upon thars". Then crash, she plummets to the white porcelain floor and the water steals her new sophistication in one smooth swipe. The "X" floats off behind a pink rubber duck and the "A" sinks slowly to the bottom. Never mind, there are more: "Stand up, Sweetie!"......
"Stand up Sweetie!" the Monkey would call, and up the little one would burst, water streaming off her like an ocean fleeing a new formed volcanic peak. Then promptly a bright colored foam letter was firmly placed over Lil' Blue's navel, an orange "X" marking the spot, or a green "A". She ever so proudly displayed her new belly adornment to the audience like one of Suess' Sneetches fresh out of the magic machine with spanking new "stars upon thars". Then crash, she plummets to the white porcelain floor and the water steals her new sophistication in one smooth swipe. The "X" floats off behind a pink rubber duck and the "A" sinks slowly to the bottom. Never mind, there are more: "Stand up, Sweetie!"......
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Reverting a Little
When I was a little girl my Dad's job required him to travel quite a bit. My actual memories of this are pretty much limited to the following:
a) My mom and I would have a sleep-over in my parents water-bed. Wrapped in a nest of blankets and pillows while still afloat on a friendly sea. I have vague recollections of wiggling while half asleep to keep the bed rolling. I think my love of the ocean is somehow tied to this. If that wasn't enough, I also often got to watch a movie to boot.
b) Dad would bring home gifts for all his kids, and come to think of it, probably my mom too. One time I got a Hershey bar from the factory in Pennsylvania. It was about the size of my current computer monitor.
c) I missed him lots. Do you remember the song from "American Tale"? Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moon sky, Some one's thinking of me, and loving me to-night I remember staying awake long after the movie had run out and Mom's regimen of stories and songs had been exhausted. Aching for my Daddy and singing myself to sleep like Fivel Mouskewitz in his makeshift bed. For whatever reason, that's the only song that ever helped.
The last few nights a piece of me has slipped back a bit to that little girl. I miss my Dad. And that piece of me is still singing the same old song. And some where out there, if love can see us through, Then we'll be together, Somewhere out there, out where dreams come true. Same as every time before, and valid as ever.
Love you Daddy.
a) My mom and I would have a sleep-over in my parents water-bed. Wrapped in a nest of blankets and pillows while still afloat on a friendly sea. I have vague recollections of wiggling while half asleep to keep the bed rolling. I think my love of the ocean is somehow tied to this. If that wasn't enough, I also often got to watch a movie to boot.
b) Dad would bring home gifts for all his kids, and come to think of it, probably my mom too. One time I got a Hershey bar from the factory in Pennsylvania. It was about the size of my current computer monitor.
c) I missed him lots. Do you remember the song from "American Tale"? Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moon sky, Some one's thinking of me, and loving me to-night I remember staying awake long after the movie had run out and Mom's regimen of stories and songs had been exhausted. Aching for my Daddy and singing myself to sleep like Fivel Mouskewitz in his makeshift bed. For whatever reason, that's the only song that ever helped.
The last few nights a piece of me has slipped back a bit to that little girl. I miss my Dad. And that piece of me is still singing the same old song. And some where out there, if love can see us through, Then we'll be together, Somewhere out there, out where dreams come true. Same as every time before, and valid as ever.
Love you Daddy.
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