As Promised, Tall Tales
The Littl'un
Susannah loves me lifting her to our fridge, which is wallpapered with photographs that have been sent us, to point out and name those people she knows. It makes sense that she points to her immediate family members most often, so it was with a bored eye that I searched out the source of her, "Papa! Papa!" and scanned all the known photographs of John on our fridge. She won me over, though, when I noticed that she was pointing with a smile toward a postcard John had picked up at the comic shop that featured an impressively green and bulging Hulk. Close, baby, but no cigar.
The Middlin'un
One of the last books Millie had to read for school was an extremely simplistic history of Pepin the Short. (I link here not to boast of my knowledge of this man, but because my knowledge is sorely lacking.) For those like me, Pepin the Short was the father of Charlemagne, or Charles the Great. He was also married to Bertha Bigfoot, a fact that pleased all of us. The day after Millie read the book to me and Annika, I heard Annika at the kitchen table shouting this mysterious encouragement: "Don't worry, Dorothy! Charlemagne will save you from the Wicked Witch! Charlemagne is comin'!" I walked out to see her playing with the Wizard of Oz dolls, with Dorothy and the Wicked Witch as themselves, and the Cowardly Lion masterfully filling Charlemagne's shoes.
Annika shows off her "finger puppet" (aka empty candy tube) and her baby, who has been christened since last week as "Split Pea Soup." It's the funniest thing to hear her run about the house in distress, crying "Where's Split Pea Soup? Split Pea Soup is lonely and 'wying! Split Pea Soup wants me!" For the space of one night, after reading this book, Split Pea Soup became "Wumstekilstee" or some similarly mangled version, and after I remarked that her baby's named changed a lot, I heard her upstairs calling out, "Changealot! Changealot! Where are you?" (Perhaps a friend of Lancelot's...) It seems that Split Pea Soup is back to stay, though-- for now.
Lastly, a few weeks ago, the girls and I were driving home and looking at the stars. Out of the dark, I heard Annika ask, "Mama, does God have a beard?" Not quite knowing how to answer, I stammered out, "I don't know, babe. We were made in His image, and men have beards, so He might... We'll only know for sure when He brings us to Him in heaven." After my voice trailed off, she continued, "Well, if you get to heaven before I do, later when I come, will you tell me?" Yes, my sweetling, I certainly will.
The Big'un
One of the girls' favorite winter games is to row around the world in their boat. This game, with daily variations on plot and theme, can amuse them for an hour or more. Since Debbie's been in London for the Honors Program, their most regular destination is Londonengland (one word), and it only takes Millie ten seconds to row there. When I questioned the speed at which she was able to travel to London, she gave me the look that only thickskulled adults must receive, and explained, "It doesn't take me long because I've taken a class on rowing for children my age, and now I know how to row extremely fast."
I'll say.
One thing the instructors of this class neglected to teach her is the proper way to call, "Aaaall aboard!" I hide a grin every time I hear her bellow, "On the board! Get on the board!" I especially refuse to correct her because her error sometimes results in Annika, after she's dramatically fallen off the boat and is floundering in the deep, crying out, "I fell offa board! I need to 'wim back to the boat!"
And to show you who's under the quilt as Millie rows to England (and sometimes, Wisconsin), here's this snapshot of Susannah and a Mystery Hand.
Finally, as I scrutinized my growing double chin in the mirror last week (oooh, yes, pictures will come), Millie poked her head in the bathroom and slammed me with this query, "Mama, are you being vanity?" I was being vanity, so, ashamed, I skulked from the bathroom.
6 comments :
ah, these were good for my soul.
always wonderful to read your words...
I love stories like this.
You have no idea (or maybe you do) how much you'll love to go back and read these stories when the girls are all grown, and how much they'll love reading them years from now (but even before they're grown all the way up).
And on that note, it some how seems wrong to refer to Millie as the Big One. I suppose Millie might be insulted to hear me say it, but somehow it just seems wrong to imply a 5 year old is, well, old. Even if she isn't the oldest.
Titles like "old" are specially reserved for people over the age of 20, doncha know.
When Millie is 21, then you can call her old.
Your wren is getting more and more and more lovely.
I wish your blog was a book, so I could pull it in my lap with a blanket wrapped around me and mull over it, enjoying it for the warmth your words give. I shan't comment everywhere, but I easily could give glowing praises to all your posts.
I think Millie's comment "It doesn't take me long because I've taken a class on rowing for children my age, and now I know how to row extremely fast." is funny and sounds just like Millie (not that I know her all that well.) When Caleb was little, he had (and has, I guess, but he doesn't play the same sort of games) a good imagination, and he would give a constant narration to me of what he/the guy he was pretending to be/the guys in his game were doing. Often the things he was pretending were rather involved, and he would rock back and forth slightly with a faraway look in his eyes as he thoroughly detailed it all.
Deirdre will give narration (more before than now, though) about what she or her dolls or whatever she is playing with are doing, also, but in a different way. For Deirdre it's never, "guess what happens next", or "and the reason why such-and-such was because", or "and another thing in my game is...", as with Caleb. It's a rolling on, continuous stream of things happening, where each individual thing is usually comical (like a stuffed animal jumping along the water really fast to get across to the other side or something like that--she said something like that the other day but I can't remember now! Argh!) and doesn't necessarily have any connection to what just happened before. Lately she plays games more quietly--I guess what I just described is more like how she was a year or two ago.
ANYHOW...the last thing I wanted to say was:
The way Millie says, "Get on the board!" instead of "All aboard!" reminded me of how Caleb used to call outer space "outivar space". I didn't realize at first he was calling it "out of our space". I think it also seemed to remind me of something because Deirdre sometimes says things in a quirky way like that, which makes Justin laugh.
Titi,
Hey! Not once did I call her old! I called her the big'un, because she is the biggest of our girls, body-wise. I wasn't thinking of age when I wrote it, but I can see how one could read it as such. So, no, she's not old. Why, she's practically a toddler, a baby!!!! (Who's in denial here?)
Sharon,
I'm so glad you visit here. I wish there was a way to quickly whoosh this out in book form to all readers. The experience of flipping through a book is so much more pleasurable than scrolling through a glowing screen.
Cadie,
It's so easy for me to imagine Caleb doing that! His style of play and speech, at least what little I've seen in his interactions with Millie, is full of patient explanation, and it fits perfectly with his past imaginative commentary.
i'll just add a very happy:
hip hip! HOORAY!
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