Between the Lines

Like a lot of families our evening schedule can be hectic. By the time everyone is home, fed, bathed and entertained there is little time for anything else. Sometimes it's a blessing that 8:30 rolls around so quickly; sometimes it's a curse.

In order to wrest our evenings back from Cartoon Network and Nintendo I decided that when school started back up we would put the kids to bed 30 minutes earlier and I would read to them. Not put them in bed and hand them a book, but sit by their beds and read.

I chose our first book, "The Wind in the Willows." I had an old, beautiful copy I found at a flea market that I was anxious to read. And while it is lovely, gentle and poetic, it is also a little uneventful - especially in the age of Harry Potter - so I assumed our first chapter would also be our last. But the next night both boys asked if we were reading again. Both boys went to bed with nary a word. Both boys were asleep within 20 minutes.

And here we are 12 chapters later. There has been great discussion regarding our next book choice. The boys have their opinions on what we should read next. I suppose I do too, but moreover I'm just tickled at how much they like our new 'tradition.'

Cheeky

One of the things I love about Abby is that she can be extremely girly and quite tough at the same time. Growing up with big brothers has thus far added a little spice to her sugar.

For instance ...

Yesterday we were playing a dignified game of Barbie brides in her room in which nearly all of her Barbies, old and young, prepare for their weddings. In the midst of the processional Abby dropped her Barbies and ran to the French doors that separate her room from her brothers' room. She turned and stuck her bottom into the boys' room.

Turns out she was ... well, farting, into her brothers' room.

Let Me Count the Ways

Dear Abigail,

Thank you for always waking up in a good mood.

Thank you for having such rosy cheeks.

Thank you for your sense of humor, even if it is baffling and embarrassing sometimes.

Thank you for your love of animals.

Thank you for loving Sam.

Thank you for playing Legos and soldiers with Jake. And making him play Barbies.

Thank you for the way you like to touch my cheek whenever you sit in my lap.

Thank you for holding your own against your brothers.

Thank you for never refusing a cuddle.

Thank you for your love of sweeping.

Thank you for your crazy love of anything pink and sparkly.

Thank you for your love of dresses.

Thank you for loving to dance and sing, especially when it's You Are My Sunshine or I Love Rock 'n' Roll.

Thank you for sharing tea with me in the mornings.

Thank you for the tenderness you bring to our home.

Thank you for the past five years.

Happy Birthday Beauty.

Life Lessons

Sam sings in the Children's Choir of Greater Dallas. As a prelude concert member his director is Ms. Nott. I am a choir escort so I listen and watch every Monday while they practice. I think Ms. Nott is amazing. She is never condescending or impatient, yet she commands respect and cooperation. And the kids respond.

A few days after Christmas we found out that Ms. Nott's husband died suddenly on December 29. Although we don't know her or her family well I thought it was important that Sam and I attend the visitation. I wanted to be supportive but I also thought Ms. Nott would appreciate Sam's presence. She would consider it mature and respectful.

Sam has never been to a visitation before. I explained to him what it would be like.

"Do they serve dinner? Is there a sermon? Will I see the body?"

We circled through the crowd a few times, said hello to the few people we knew and signed the guest book, which was in the room with Ms. Nott's husband. I could tell Sam was anxious but curious. We didn't linger.

On our way out Sam bumped into Ms. Nott, who was surrounded by a circle of adults. She got down on one knee and gave Sam a big hug. And as I expected she told him she was proud of him for coming. She introduced him to her family and told him to be ready when choir starts back up Monday.

All in all we were there 20 minutes but I think Sam was glad he went (and relieved). And I was proud of him - Sam's at an age where he needs to be exposed to these events and understand how to be compassionate and sympathetic, but on the way home I realized the real reason I wanted him to go - to support me.