Spring and surprises

The Greening has come, by which I mean the point in the spring when I first notice that the grass is green instead of dull (that's not a color, but it seems like it in late winter). Chloë noticed it too. "The grass is green now," she informed me yesterday. She also told me there are red flowers in our yard. What would I do without her news bulletins?

We spent a good part of the weekend outside. I worked on the garden and the girls drew with chalk, blew bubbles, slid down the slide and tried to ride Chloë's tricycle. Chloë can ride it but has trouble with corners and with getting stuck on the far end of our lawn. Maia can't reach the pedals but she doesn't stop trying. She's been so enamored of it that we decided to get Maia her own (shorter) tricycle for her birthday.

It arrived Friday, and I took Chloë into confidence about what was inside and told her she couldn't tell Maia because birthday presents should be secret. So far (as far as I know) she hasn't told Maia, which is frankly better than I expected. She has whispered to me in front of Maia, "We're keeping the tricycle a secret!" but that's not so bad and is utterly cute.

Saturday I took her shopping for Maia's birthday present. We've been talking about what Maia would like, and Chloë said she wanted to get her a stuffed cat and a stuffed duck and maybe another stuffed dog. I discouraged the dog, since Maia already has two and that's plenty, but we searched for a cat and a duck and at the second store (Toys R Us) found both. She picked out the ones she thought Maia would like and said, "I will carry them, since I picked them out." At the checkout line she told the cashier, "These are for my baby sister for her birthday. Because she likes my cat." The cashier thought she meant a real cat, but Chloë set her straight.

She carried the bag to the car, and when we arrived home carried the bag inside and retrieved the roll of wrapping paper so we could wrap them. "They will be all snuggly in there," she said as we crammed them together to get them to fit in the last remaining bit of wrapping paper. (There's another roll for the tricycle, if we decide to wrap it rather than assembling it ahead of time.) They just fit, and after Chloë selected a bow we put the present up on a shelf in her closet. She was so delightfully pleased to have gotten a present for her sister. I was so pleased my daughter is such a loving big sister.

So this is how it's going to be.

[I know, I owe a monthly update, and this isn't it. But doesn't it tell you a lot about Chloë's current status?]

I set the girls up to play in the backyard this evening while I worked on dinner. I opened the sandbox and filled the water table, and provided two of the large buckets and fed them an equal number of raspberries. Then I went inside and opened the window. I chopped tomatoes and rolled pita bread, checking the window frequently. I loved having the kids playing outside while I worked without somebody wailing or clinging to my leg.

"I need flowers!" Chloë called to me when I went outside to cut parsley.

"Well, you know where they are," I said, pointing to the garden behind the garage, where there are a couple of marigold bushes that Chloë has picked from plenty of times.

"But those are marigolds, not flowers!" she said.

"Marigolds are flowers."

She said nothing, which surprised but pleased me, and I figured she'd accepted my word on it. I went back inside.

Presently, I saw Maia head toward the garden. I mentioned this to Eric as I finished chopping. "Should one of us head out there?" he said.

"Yeah, I'll go when I finish this." I suited action to word and went outside. But as I did, Maia came back. "Good timing," I told her.

"Mama," Chloë called. "I need help getting flowers. Maia didn't bring me any."

I looked at her, and then at Maia, and then back at her. "Did you send your sister to pick flowers for you?"

"Yes," she said, as Maia nodded vigorously. "So I need you to help me."

I went inside (after walking her to the garden) and reported this to Eric, who said, "She finally actually has her own minion."

Daytona

And the verdict is: Daytona (now dubbed Second Vacation by Chloë) Was Good. We stayed in a huge house that Eric's cousin had rented (borrowed? I'm not clear on this), across the road from the intracoastal waterway, with cousins and aunts and uncles and grandmas and so on. The beach proper wasn't far, and Chloë won't go near the surf, but Maia loved it. They both loved the sand and the pool. Chloë was proud of being able to float around by herself in a floatie and kick around the pool a little. Maia loved being jumped in and out of the water and standing on one of the steps, up to her chest, considering taking the next step down but never quite doing it . When we got out of the pool once, we walked around to dry a little and Maia headed back toward the edge. Eric and I both said "No, baby!" but she just sat down at the pool's rim to dabble her feet in the pool and kick, wistfully, at the water.

Chloë had a reasonably good time, it looked like, playing with her older cousins (they did get pretty bossy and probably didn't realize when she didn't actually want to play their games, since she didn't say so unless I asked her) and did a lot of coloring and playing with blocks and taking walks and swimming and running around. Maia was clingy, as we expected in a house full of so many strangers, but she had some fun too, especially with the puppy an aunt brought along. Eric and I swam and took the girls to the pool and gave series of two-girl baths (the older cousins wanted in on the big fancy tub) and played games in the evening.

One night we walked on the beach together. We passed a man fishing in the dark, shining a flashlight on his pole. As we passed he called, "Hey, do you have a flashlight?" I said I was afraid not, puzzled why he needed a second light, and he walked toward us and held out his flashlight, saying, "Here, have this one. Where are you from?" We said Toledo, and he said, "Welcome to Florida."

So we came home richer by a flashlight (also some books, because there was a used bookstore in town and, well, you can't spend all your time swimming). Chloë came home richer by a set of beach toys and a pretty good tan, and Maia poorer by a set of goggles (not that she used them anyway). It was a good vacation. The girls were great travelers; Chloë got antsy, and Maia upset when she wanted milk and wasn't getting it, but there was no major whining or complaining, and mostly they played or watched movies or ate or slept.

I actually came back a couple of days early, to save vacation days, and while they were gone I cleaned most of the house (I ended up forgetting to dust one wall, and I didn't sweep the basement) and marveled at the way things would, when I put them away, still be put away two hours later. I baked and did laundry without interruption, and went shopping without needing to stop for potty breaks or snacks or naps or whininess or bedtime. And I still had time to relax and goof off. It was marvelous. I even slept ten hours in a row on Saturday and lounged in bed for half an hour when I woke, just because I could.

But when I went to the bookstore I picked up "Biscuit's First Beach Day" because I thought it would be a nice reminder of their time at the beach and Maia is in love with dogs. When I went clothes shopping I picked up a bigger (4T) bathing suit for Chloë because her two beloved ones from last year are really too small. I changed Chloë's sheets and turned down her bed, so we could lay her right in it when they got home late Saturday, and put Maia's stuffed animals in the corners of the crib so she'd have room to lie down. Eric called a little after one on Sunday morning to say they were close, and I sat up in the living room until I heard them pull in and could go out and lift Chloë out of her seat and into the house, and then take Maia for a big hug. It was good to get them back.

In the meantime, Chloë said to me this morning, "Soon it will be summer." I said, "Silly, it's summer now." She said, "No, I mean real summer. When my pool that is not too big is out." I guess Eric needs to mow so we can set up the kiddie pool in the backyard.

Negotiating the park

Yesterday, Eric's teaching day, was gorgeous--high 70s and sunny--so after work, I fed Maia, changed everyone's diapers, packed up a picnic dinner (peanut butter crackers, Wheat Thins, three kinds of cheese, grapes, an orange, a banana, and some cookies), and we headed to the park.

On the way Chloë said, "My stomach hurts," and pulled up her shirt to clutch at it. She'd had nearly a cup of black beans as a snack before we left, and I suspected that was the problem. We were also proceeding extremely slowly, as Chloë has lately seemed constitutionally incapable of walking more than two paces together without stopping to look at a crack or duck behind a tree or point out a fire hydrant or a plane. So I said, "I tell you what. Since your stomach hurts and we're going very slowly, I don't think the park is a good idea. Let's turn around. We'll have a picnic in our yard."

Chloë hesitated. She pulled at her shirt again and said, "My stomach only hurts a little." I looked at her, and she looked up at me, her whole face trembling, and said, "I really want to go to the park." It was clear she was about to cry, but she wasn't doing it yet; she was holding herself in.

So I relented, and she started running so I couldn't complain about her slowness. We got there in good time and started looking around for somewhere to sit and eat. The place was packed (and sadly, the garbage cans weren't out for the season yet, so it was littered too), so this wasn't easy. It was even less easy when Chloë ran off to climb up the small climbing wall, though she was stymied by the one-year-old boy who sat at the top eagerly watching her. "This is going to be a while," I told Maia, and pulled her out of the stroller.

Chloë got off the other side of the play structure and headed toward the place where she and that other girl had played "naptime" last time. I went the long way around with the stroller in one hand and Maia in the other. By the time I'd navigated the other kids, the other parents, and the structure itself, Chloë had lost interest in naptime and was looking around for me. "Chloë!" I called. She came running and said, "Let's find a place to sit down and eat our picnic!"

We eventually found a stone bench close to the river. I settled Maia on my lap and opened up our containers, and put bits of cracker and cheese and fruit into my hand for Maia to nibble on. She was more interested in feeding me than herself, but she did get food in her. Chloë enjoyed the repast, but was more occupied in watching the kids on the baby swings and the dog-walkers going past and the water. "Where are the boatses?" she said. We did see one motorboat, and also a floatplane taking off, and a little boy on a tricycle. "Will you get me one of those someday?" she asked. I laughed and said no, she had an even better one at home, and next time we went outside she should try it.

After we finished the meal with a cookie (well, two for me--but they were small), we packed up and headed over to the other play structure, where we witnessed a girl going across the monkey bars properly, which Chloë may never have seen before. Maia pointed at the flag above us, snapping in the wind. "Look!" said Chloë, pointing to the flag pole. "A tall rocketship!"

"It's getting late," I said. "You can go down another slide, and then we have to go." She jaunted onto the structure to get to her slide of choice. "Time to go home," I said.

"I want to go down two slides," she said.

"I said one."

"I really want to go down two."

"If you do, then we go home right away afterward with no whining, crying, or screaming," I said. She agreed, so I gave in and she ran back up the ramp. She picked a short slide, which surprised me; but when she came off I said, "Okay, let's go," and she immediately started walking with me toward the street, no argument.

"Thank you for going to the park!" she said.

"How's your stomach?" I asked.

She reached under her shirt to pat it. "It feels all better!" she said, sounding surprised. Then she had to point out a girl with sparkly streamers on her bike and asked "What did we have for our picnic?", and we talked the whole slow way home.