watching mama

There is a new Mama in our neighborhood.  In fact, she is right in our own front yard.

One beautiful morning my mother, my children and I watched this new Mama for almost an hour.  She marched back and forth from the high grass to her burrow, preparing the nest for her littles.  Yes, I said high grass.  Right. in. my. front. yard. Ahem.

Mama rabbits usually run when they know humans are nearby.  But, this Mama had a job to do.  She looked us square in the eye as if to say I'm not leaving and Watch over my little ones.

She was even being eyed by another friendly creature who had taken shield behind the utility box.  Every time Mama wondered his way, he would duck underground.  Then he'd pop back up to observe her.  He was really too cute.  I wouldn't mind him too much if he wasn't tunneling under my house, my porch, my patio, and probably in my attic.  Sigh.

Over the next few nights, we've seen Mama return to feed and check in.  She's reliable, consistent and confident.

Now we wait anxiously for sight of those baby bunnies when they grow just a bit bigger and stronger.  Patiently, yet excitedly . . . we wait.

Tuesday evening

It's soccer season.  Which for Papa Bear, Mr. Man, and Peace means soccer practice on Tuesday evenings.  But for Mama and Pie it means some special time together.  Oh how I love Tuesday evening.

We are in charge of dinner preparations for our hungry athletes, but there is plenty of room for play as well.  

Pie is certainly shaping into quite the little dinnertime helper.  She washes dishes, sets the table, and even cooks - as much as Mama will let her.  Because we all know she would attempt to drain the hot water from the pasta if given a little too much space to do so.  Kitchen help is always welcomed with a little extra in the watchful eye department.  She is so eager and so proud of herself and I love her company.  What do they say - a spoonful of sugar!

Play, however, is where she gets to take the lead.  It usually involves chalk and lots of curiosity.  One week she asked me to trace her with chalk.  Then she traced me.  This week, we made a hopscotch that went all the way to 40.  She wanted it to go to 100, but we ran out of driveway.  What I love is her take on the rules of play.  She placed rocks in every even number and jumped ON the squares with the rocks.  The best thing about one-on-one time with Pie is that there are no older siblings to tell her that she's doing it all wrong!

We like to discover and this week it was the pond behind our backyard.  I'm not the most adventurous person, so climbing on the old docks with rotting wood and creaking boards made me a little nervous.  But Pie led the way with confidence.  I only had to help her a bit with navigation.  She was sure we were headed the wrong way even as we completed the circle in our neighbor's backyard.  I'm afraid we would have walked to Mars if we had trusted her sense of direction. Ahem!

Oh, did I mention that she only likes to wear her dressy shoes, no matter the terrain? Sigh!

Well, we made it home just fine and dinner was served just in time for a hungry crew. 

How's that for a Tuesday evening?!

dirt

We're getting a new backyard!  Really!

Our old backyard spent most of its time under water, tired and spent, muddy and cracked.  So, we brought in A LOT of dirt and we're starting from scratch.  We're not done.  Not even close.  In fact, the first loads of dirt arrived almost three weeks ago.  So, you might imagine that this mama is growing impatient.

What better solution for impatience than to play.  And play in that dirt we did. 

Notice Pie in her dress and pink sparkly shoes!  Yep, it was spontaneous and I would never have dreamed of stopping their play.  That was, of course, until Peace found the blade from gardening sheers buried. Yikes!  

So we moved on to the machinery left by the workers.  Yes, they left the keys in the ignition.  No, we did not turn it on!

Like much of the play in our home, each child required a turn in the spotlight.  Each had to take their turn climbing, posing, jumping to Papa.  Yet, each made a memory that will last a lifetime.  All from a little dirt!

this is what you do

After Sunday's post, I've been feeling guilty.  Should I say those things so publicly about my child?  I want to be honest in this space and this is honestly what's filling my mind (and worry).  But so, so, so tough to read back. Sigh.

So...I thought I would follow that post with this:

Here's what you do with this child.  You find a moment with just her.  In that moment, you enter her world. Every bit of it.  And you play.  And you pretend.  And you allow her to lead.  And you follow.  And you watch.  And you laugh.  And you love.

what to do with this child

She's cute.  Oh. so. cute.

My favorites are the snuggly moments.  Moments that make my heart swell so that I wonder if it will erupt.  In those moments, her eyes shine and sparkle, her smile lights up a room, her laughter is contagious.  

She has the ability to stop strangers in their tracks to watch her dance and sing and listen to her story.  Each one feels compelled to say "She's adorable, or sooo cute, or beautiful."  She is all of these things.

Teachers say, "We love having her in our classroom.  She is so creative and bright.  Her stories are amazing and she brings such energy.  The other children just respond to her."

Grandparents pause lovingly at the very sight of her.  Then they shake their heads, smiling all the while.  One usually says, "she is something."  And everyone agrees.

It seems the world stands still on its axis when she arrives.  Every eye drawn to see the beauty, grace, entertainer, and story teller that is Pie.

There is another side of her though that rises abruptly, unforeseen.  This side emerges at home, in public, and in quite unpredictable ways.  The world stops just the same, but this scene is challenging, trying, emotional, and ugly.

Tears that come in anticipation of being told 'no,' screaming that erupts because she understands the day to be something it is not, hitting because she's not getting her way, and lashing out with mean, hurtful statements that make my blood run cold.

In fact, as I write this she has just finished her bath.  A playful scene full of imaginative stories starring her naked dolls swimming next to her in the tub.  Papa has asked her to dry herself off and get dressed.  A blood curdling scream: "I can't."  Startling.  Tears, throwing.  This from the girl who toasted and buttered her own bagels for breakfast.

These moments leave me and Papa feeling helpless, unable to respond, out of control.  These moments are compounded by our own anger and the vulnerable, sensitive reactions of her older siblings.  Dinners spoiled, family time unraveled, the best memories muted.

I know these behaviors to come from her attempt to move from baby to big girl, yet longing to stay baby in some ways.  I know these behaviors to come from not feeling heard.  I know these behaviors to come from intellect beyond her maturity.  

Though, these behaviors scare me.  When she hurts another.  When she destroys a thing.  When I can't help her understand.  When I can't anticipate her expectations.  When I can't calm her down.  When she's pushed both me and Papa to exasperation. 

Are you a mother who has had experience with a spirited child?  How have you met her needs without sacrificing the needs of everyone else? How do you find a balance between setting limits and allowing a child to find their own?  What words of wisdom can you offer?

I'm thankful for the sweet moments for they come more frequently than the challenging ones.  I just want to understand the challenging ones, too.