Chores

 Her job (other than playing the kazoo and bugging her little brother) is to empty the dishwasher.

When I walked into the kitchen to check on her progress, she told me she was making "mushroom bowls".

If I gave creativity points for chores, I'd give her some.

Bodega Bay Part II

This time we invited Nana and Papa to come with us to Bodega Bay. And this time we outfitted ourselves a little better for the ocean.

Mark and Isabella stumbled upon this state-of-the-art sand castle. The wise man that built this house, built it upon a log (which is second best to a rock--unless, of course, there is a fire.)

Fortified with a giant-legless crab, and all.

The Foolish Man and his daughter built their house upon the sand (didn't the song teach them anything?!), which was washed away by the ocean eraser by the time I returned with the camera.

This day, Matthew was all about Papa.

But there's lots of lovin' for Nana too, who has successfully taught Matthew the meaning of "gentle". (At least he's gentle with Nana. He still scratches my face off.)

Mom told me about a sermon she heard from the pastor at their church that made her think of Matthew. The pastor told the story of a letter George Burns found, after his wife Gracie Allen, passed away. In the letter Gracie Allen wrote, "George, never put a period, where God has placed a comma." Well, I could have cried enough tears to make another ocean right then and there. When I was pregnant with Matthew my fear was that his having Down syndrome would be a period in his life and in my life. I was wrong. Matthew has Down syndrome (comma) but it certainly does not define his little soul. He is the hug you see in this picture; he is sunshine and sweetness, determination and adventure. In short, he is the snicker to my doodle.

And this one...she's the peanut to my butter. Mark? He's got to be the flip to my flop. (I wish I'd made these up.)

Nothing like a sand covered peach to end the day.

Don't Paint Your Chickens Before They Hatch. A True Story in Rhyme.

There are two little girls, each five years old. Isabella is imaginative, Ally is bold.

"We want to paint!" together they cry
"Ok", says Isabella's mother, "let's set you up outside."

"Now, the rules are simple," says Isa's mother, "the paint is for the paper, not your clothes or each other."

They nod at the orders they are not to ignore, then it's off to paint the sun, a house, and red monsters galore!

The mother then says, "Girls, the baby needs a nap. I must take him in, but I'll be back in a snap. Remember no silliness, paint your hearts out!  You will make masterpieces-- that I don't doubt!

But as the mother rocks the baby to sleep, Isabella is at the door, ready to weep.
"She painted my shirt, " she says in distress. A nap interrupted. A problem to address.

"Did you paint her shirt?"
"Yes, " Ally says with contrition.
"Well, it's a good thing it's washable, let's clean it up in the kitchen."

The mother turns to leave, a woman on a mission, as second confession slips out--
"And we painted the chicken!"

"You painted the chicken?!" this time, the mother distressed.
"Is it true Isabella? What Ally confessed?"
"Yes! We painted some feathers, and even its beak!" The giggles slip out. The mother can't speak.

"You can't...you didn't... who's idea was it?"
"Isabella's!" Ally declares, the accusation legit.

A mother befuddled; a parenting scenario, (surely) unwritten. What does one do when their kid paints the chicken? 

15 Week Sleep Over

I went for a run. Mark informs me, upon my return, that there is something waiting for me on our bedroom door.

I knock on the door. Isabella answers. "This is my room now." she tells me. (Note to self: apparently a bedroom can be commandeered with a simple self-portrait attached to the door with a sticker-- according to pirate code of a five year old. )
"Can you go get Daddy?"
"Sure." I say.
I go and get Mark. Mark comes to the door, knocks, and she excitedly lets him enter the room.
"We are having a sleep over for 15 weeks," she tells me. "But you and Matthew can't come."
So Matthew and I are left at the door, while the cool kids have their party. 

 There is wailing, weeping, and much lamentation.

 There is kicking of legs,

and flailing on the floor, until we are finally invited to the sleepover-party...

...which turns out to be Isabella barricaded behind a cushion, while Mark reads her books. Awesome.

Bodega Bay

We made an impromptu day trip to Bodega Bay.

 Pure joy.

 Pure joy.

 And then there's the reality of just how cold the water is when you fall in.

Mark wrote Isabella's name in the sand.

But then the "ocean eraser" (aka the tide) washed it away.

Because the trip was so last minute I quickly threw together a bag of food from what we had left in the kitchen: 2 bananas, 1 peanut butter and honey sandwich, a package of graham crackers, a ziploc bag of leftover croissants, and some Goldfish. Isabella declared it the "best picnic ever."

As we were winding up our afternoon at the beach, Mark and Isabella devised a game where they climbed up a big sand hill, kicked a ball down the hill, and chased after it.

 It was super fun. And if you're not convinced, I zoomed in on some of the photos:

As we walked back to our car, Isabella said this was "the best vacation ever!". I'm so happy such small things make her so happy because sometimes I get caught up in the fact that she's never been to Disneyland or taken a trip on a plane somewhere. But I guess she doesn't need that (yet), and that makes me happy too.

Summertime and the Livin' is Easy...

1. Movie night on the porch.  Lights, popcorn, and watching "Brave" on the laptop--until the mosquitoes attacked.

2. Isabella does her best impression of Santa Claus. 

 3. What to do during a heatwave? Uh, make s'mores in the car!

The result? The chocolate melted, but the marshmallows became more dry than ooey-gooey. Fun, but better over a campfire.

4. Isabella gets fancy. She requested that her nails be painted and then scoured through my box of purses (that I never use) and found a fancy, shiny red one, which she then carried with her everywhere for the rest of the day.

Fancy Isabella takes her wooden horse for a walk with her fancy purse (and boots, of course).

 5. We took a trip to El Dorado Hills to visit BFF and her family. They just bought a new house and are busy decorating and painting. Super fun, says me. 

We spent two nights there, went swimming, ran errands, baked ourselves at a BBQ, took a walk with bats swooping low, ate at a Thai restaurant, hung pictures on walls, and had a Sunday morning dance party. It was so nice, we didn't want to leave, though we did miss Mark.

6. The new house decorating inspired me to come home and paint our bathroom in a warm gray color (it's hard to tell in the photo) but I love it and it makes our 110 year old house feel more like it's-- 88.

7. Scooter-scooting, wagon rides, and a make-shift family band.

Mark's on the keyboard, Isabella's playing the harmonica. Anything. To. Survive. The. Heat.

8. SWIMMING! This is Isabella's year. Thanks to the generosity of our landlords and a fabulous swim teacher, Glenda, who doesn't take any guff from chatty five year-olds, Isabella has gone from being afraid to go underwater to mermaid in just four, 30 minute lessons.

 9. Fourth of July - Matthew loves the chocolate cream pie so much, he goes for the plate, next.

 Dad and Mark challenge each other to croquet in 90+ degree weather.

 Burgers, peach lemonade, chips, and salad. And did I mention the 90+ degree weather?

 Eventually it did cool down and the kids played soccer.

 It got a little cooler and a little darker and the sparklers and snake-things came out.

We watched two fireworks shows--the annual July 3 country club show that we see from the parking lot of the elementary school and the 4th of July show from the fairgrounds. Isabella saw both and loved them. Another first for her, and another love to add to her list: Fireworks.

 10. And finally - the gift of literacy. Isabella has been on her own timeline with writing--even her name. It's hard for two elementary school teacher-parents not to push, but we really have tried not to with her. So it was such a lovely surprise to watch her sit at my mom's house, with art and stationary supplies all around her, sounding out words as she wrote them on envelopes to mail to each of us. I picked up the mail she sent me and on the envelope she'd written "THIS" (backwards 's') "MAYUL" (mail). (wowsers!)

 I opened the envelope and found a cut-out character.
"What's this? " I ask.
"It's me!" says she. 
"Oh, and what are these other cut up pieces?" I inquire.
"They are my arms and legs!" she explains. "You can tape them on."
Alrighty then.

 Pizza with Nana at Tony Tutto's

 Summer lovin'.

Other things to cross off the Summer Bucket List (if we had one):
*Homemade oreos (not so good)
*Homemade popsicles (really good)
*Puppet theater/storytelling/movie night at the library
*Farmers' Market with preschool friends, Christian and Amelie (it was pouring rain and therefore short-lived, but we did get some yummy lemon biscotti)
*water balloon toss