The young Calvinists

This morning in the car on our way to drop Hudson off for basketball camp, he said, "When I grow up, I am going to make a movie, and it is going to be rated R-33, and it is going to be called The Icy Black Hand of Death!" This aspiration, I am sure of it, has everything to do with the fact that when I found him this morning at 7 a.m., and as I have found him most mornings this summer, he was curled up on the couch, under a blanket, with Calvin and Hobbes draped across his lap:

Me: How long have you been awake?
He: Since 6:15.
Me: I am going to make you some scrambled eggs so you have extra vim and vigor for basketball camp today!
He: Also two, no THREE pieces of cinnamon raisin toast! And chocolate frosted sugar bombs!

At the pool one day last week, I was reading and watching them play. There was grabbing, hugging, histrionic wailing, and what appeared to be at least one full-immersion baptism. Harper came over to get her goggles, and I asked, casually, what they were playing exactly. "We are acting out Dramatic Scenes of Death!" she chirped. I felt a glow of pride surely analogous to what Marmie felt as she listened to the March sisters act out Pilgrim's Progress.

Saturday, June 25, 2016

Sasha woke me up at 3a.m. because she got bitten by an army of fire ants a couple of days ago and she is miserable and scratching/licking incessantly, which is a disgustingly noisy endeavor. I don't think I ever really went back to sleep. Around 8:30 we left to have breakfast at Einstein Bros. Bagels, then went to REI to get some "necessary supplies" for our upcoming vacation to Colorado (!) When we got back home, Harper reminded me that I had told  her yesterday that she could look through cookbooks and make something for dinner. While she perused a vegetarian cookbook, I took a little rest, and read the Wall Street Journal (Brexit! I had no clue). Hudson played with Legos, and I think Helena was watching cooking and/or primitive survival shows with the Daddy. Harper chose a spinach tart, so I took the girls to the grocery store to get a few ingredients (we just went to the grocery store yesterday, but did not get ingredients for spinach tarts. Sigh.) The boys played with walkie talkies while she baked the tart mostly by herself. It actually turned out well! After we ate, we decided to go to the pool for a couple of hours before bed. I read a book (The Awakening of Miss Prim--LIKE!) while they swam. We stayed until the pool closed at 8, and walked home. The swallows were diving and swooping everywhere, and we saw a white ibis flying over. I helped Helena wash her hair. (She would prefer to never wash her hair). Harper decided to get out her camera, set up the tripod, and film a short movie. There were costumes. I believe Ernie was involved. I folded some clothes, then realized it was almost 9 (the husband is already asleep), so we cuddled up on the couch, read about Isaac and Rebekah (The Child's Story Bible), then a few pages of Swallows and Amazons (Captain John Visits Captain Flint). Everyone was pretty floppy at this point, so I carried each of them to bed, from oldest to youngest. As I was carrying her (and groaning a little) Harper asked, "I wonder how much longer you will be able to carry me?" and instead of falling into a weeping heap, I decided to blog instead. To remember this good day with my dearest ones.

A time to dance

Helena took ballet lessons this year. The recital was a production of "Snow White" and her class played the part of Flowers in the Garden. They really were lovely. I volunteered to be backstage, so I got to watch her dance from the wings. She noted just after they exited that they had been working on the dance for many hours over many months, yet had only spent three minutes on stage.  I feel like there is a Life Metaphor in there somewhere?

What we are reading: Elliot's Extraordinary Cookbook

One of my summer goals was to let the kids have some freedom in the kitchen. We found the book Elliot's Extraordinary Cookbook (written by Christina Bjork and Lena Anderson, who also wrote Linnea in Monet's Garden) and I told Harper she could choose a recipe and make it entirely by herself. I actually went in another room to avoid the temptation to help and advise. (Cooking with children is a sure way to provoke my Inner Control Freak). She did great! I did come in right at the end when I realized she had put the baking sheet on the lowest rack in the oven. My Inner Control Freak draws the line at the acrid smell of burned-to-a-crisp whole-wheat braid. This book is really, utterly charming. For each recipe, there is a narrative that manages to incorporate both instructions and interesting facts about the ingredients. Highly recommend!

[That jam jar holding open the book in the second picture? The red goo inside is fake blood that Harper concocted to use on April Fool's Day. She was so disappointed I did not let her bring it to school. Sadly, Elliot's Extraordinary Cookbook does NOT include a recipe for fake blood.]