Slice of Life Story Challenge

Little L.'s preschool class was sitting in a circle on the rug in the center of their cheerful classroom. A special candle had been placed at the center. Ms. C. introduced me, saying, "Everybody, this is L.'s mom, she's come to visit for L.'s birthday."

After some ooh's and ah's, and after a few kids called out, "I know her!" things settled down, and Ms. C. handed Little L. a small round globe. "L., will you hold on the to world, and walk carefully in a circle around the candle, the sun, while we sing the special birthday song?" Little L. stood up, holding the world in her hands and stood near the "sun" and waited.

To the tune of "The Farmer in the Dell," the class sang.

The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun.


While they sang. L. walked slowly, slowly, around the "sun," holding the Earth in her hands. I watched her, proud of how careful and sweet she was. (She would have NEVER followed directions so well at home.)

When the song came to a stop, Ms. C. said to the class, "Now L. is one year old. What was L. like when she was just one year old, mom?" That was my cue to share one of the photos I had been asked to bring. "Here she is!" I said,  "This is when we still lived in Brooklyn, before we lived in Vermont." The picture was very cute. She was such a cute baby, really. Some giggles from the kids... and then we sang again.

The Earth goes round the sun,
The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun.

After a brief moment of thoughtful silence, Ms. C. said, "The Earth has gone all the way around the sun twice now. Now L. is two years old! Mom, can you tell us what L. was like when she was two?" I held up the photo of L. with the NewYork City skyline in the background. "This was the last summer we spent in Brooklyn, right before we moved here. L. was still just two when she started at your school last year. This picture was right before school started!" I thought to myself, I cannot believe it has already been a year since we moved. I can't believe how tiny she was when she first started school!

The Earth goes round the sun,
The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun.

L.'s teacher now said, "The Earth has made the long trip all the way around the sun three whole times since L. was born. Now she is three years old. What was L. like when she was three?"

I paused for a moment. My little girl isn't three anymore. It was as if it were really sinking in.  Finally I said, "Well, in this photo, here she is learning to ski. Do you think we're still in New York City?"

"Nooo!" shouted the class.

"You are right!" I said brightly, shaking off a little bit of nostalgia. "When L. was three we lived in Vermont."

Phew. I made it through the tough part. No tears.

The Earth goes round the sun,
The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun,

The Earth goes round the sun.

The children stopped singing, and L.'s teacher said, "Now the Earth has traveled all the way around the sun four times since L. was born. L. is four years old now! What a big kid! Mom, do you want to share anything about L. now that she is four?"

And then, what do you know? All of a sudden I was holding back, fighting tears! I couldn't believe my baby girl was already not just three, but four years old! I coughed, pretended like my throat was just dry. After an  uncomfortable pause I finally held up the fourth photo. It made me smile. My little girl in her dragon costume that she had chosen for Halloween. "Here she is!" I held it up and the kids gave me the reaction I knew I would get. "Wow! Cool! I love dragons! Is that her Halloween costume?" I smiled. "Yup, L. is four now and just the other day we tried on Halloween costumes. She tried on a fairy, a princess, and a dragon. And what do you think she chose?"

"Dragon!" the kiddos shouted. L. smiled a big huge smile, and hugged the Earth she was holding in her hands. "I love dragons," she chimed in.

The rest of the afternoon in Little L.'s classroom passed in a blur. I was still thinking about how quickly four years had gone by and how L. had grown from a tiny little thing--to this bold, strong little person. A kid who goes to school, and has her own friends, and is getting bigger and smarter and more and more herself everyday. And yes, a kid who chooses to be a dragon for Halloween.

Our Newest Game: "Where's the..."

"L, where's the monkey?" I asked Baby L, pointing to her toys.

L grinned a big toothy smile and crawled over to her basket of stuffed animals.

"Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!" she shrieked (like a monkey).

"Yes! That's right! That's your monkey!" My heart swelled. My little baby was talking!

"L, where's the owl?" I asked. She turned immediately back to her stuffed animals, all business now.

Five seconds later she found what she was looking for.

"Oooh. Oooh. Ooooh," she hooted, pointing at her favorite stuffed owl--the one her babysitter made her for her birthday a few weeks ago.

"That's right!" I cried, "That's your owl that Ruby made for you! Can you find the other owl?"

L cocked her head at me, as if to say, "Huh?"

"The other owl, you know, the old one?" L dug through the stuffed animals. She cast aside a doll, a teddy bear, and two doggies. Finally, she held the owl she was looking for above her head and hooted, "Oooh! Oooh Oooh!"

"Oh, L, you are the smartest baby in the world!"

Life-After-Baby for Doggy: Another Small Moment

Indigo smells. He smells worse than he as ever smelled before. Ever. Do I dare guess what he smells like? Dead animal? Vomit? A combination of the two?

He looks sad. His big brown eyes gaze up at me through his wiry fur. I feel a pang of guilt. The last time he went to the groomer was when I was home on maternity leave. Baby L. is five months old now, and I've been back at work since January. He's looooong overdue. His sleek, short fur has been left alone so long that he now resembles a small bear.

And he STINKS. Oh, I feel terrible for him. Poor Indigo. I don't think he's been getting much sleep. Ever since L. started sleeping in her own room, he doesn't know where to put himself. He starts out in his old spot at the foot of our bed, then moves to his own doggy bed in our room, then out to the floor in the hall between the two bedrooms, then finally out to the couch in the living room, where he's more comfortable. Right now he's dozing on the floor in the hall between bedrooms, sprawled out, all four legs out straight, like he's playing dead.

What IS that smell? Ew. I look at Indigo. I can't help thinking he's hit the doggy version of rock-bottom. His fur is matted in a few places, poor dog. I know what I need to do. I need to look under his tail in case, well, you know why... I check, and sure enough. Leftovers from his last bathroom break are stuck in the fur under his tail. Ack!

I scoop him up, tell him I love him, and stick him in the shower for a good long doggy bath. He presses against my arms to hug me while I wash his back. I think it's the most attention he's had since the baby was born. I have plenty of time while Baby L. is asleep, so I give him a good long scrub, with the nice smelling doggy shampoo. I dry him off with his special green towel that we only use for him, and I brush him for a long time. He shivers with happiness at each brush stroke, and licks my hand to say thank you. By the time I'm done with him he looks, and smells (thankfully) like a brand new dog.

** Picture taken after his bath **

Playing With Food: A Small Moment

“Oh boy! Peas!” I sing to Baby L. as I fly her special infant spoon in for a landing, right between her little pink lips.

She leans forward, eager for the pureed peas.

“Mmmmm, yummy!” I say.

The peas disappear into her tiny mouth for a second. She looks straight at me, pauses to consider the peas, and then furrows her brow. The peas reappear, dripping out of her mouth slowly, onto her bib.

Then she suddenly lights up and lets out a screetch of delight. She reaches her hands out and leans forward slowly, searching out another bite.

“Want some more?” As I scoop out another little bite of peas, I laugh as she bends her head down carefully to suck on the tray of her highchair without bonking her head.

“Lily… want some more? Yummy yummy bright green peas!” I say.

She takes the spoon in her mouth and sucks vigorously. She looks confused for a second. The peas are gone. She smiles a gummy smile, just for me (and the peas). Success.