circumstances beyond her control

After the last day of school, walking up and down Whole Food's aisles.

Fiona: "Mom, since I won't see Doug at school everyday anymore, can I be his penpal?"

Me: "Yeah.  That would be nice."

Fiona: "Are you going to say something about him being my boyfriend?  Because he's not.  He's just my friend."

Me: "No.  I want you to have friends with both boys and girls.  I won't tease you for it."

Neve: "Doug.  That's a funny name.  Dug.  Duh-ugh.  Duggy.  Is his name short for 'Doug-apher'?"

Fiona: "It's short for 'Douglas', Neve.  Be quiet.

Mom, in that movie that you and Daddy were watching the other night, didn't the girl and the boy start being friends because they were penpals?"

She was referring to Moonrise Kingdom.  And I have no idea how she knew about it, as she was supposed to be asleep.  And I was definitely asleep while the movie was on, so I'm in no position to answer her question.

Me: "I don't know.  I slept through the movie."

Fiona: "Yeah, they started as penpals, and then they fell in love.  And then they ran away together."

Me: "Yeah, well.  You and Doug are not boyfriend and girlfriend, so it's fine.  You guys are just friends.  Just penpals, right?"

Fiona: "Right.  I just hope Doug doesn't fall in love with me.  Or ask me to run away with him."

I look at her with a raised brow, and Neve laughs.

Neve: "Fall in love with you?  Don't say that, Fiona.  It's not like boys are just falling in love with you all the time everywhere we go.  Do you think he is in love with you?", pointing to the 50-something year old man behind the seafood counter in a hairnet.

Me: "You can say no, remember?  If he asks you to run away with him, that is..."

Fiona: "Well, actually, mom.  I'm not sure.  I don't think you can say 'no' to love."

Well.

week 19 // you are my wild

She might be one of the few who are not looking forward to saying goodbye to teachers or burning school papers.  Her heart was always into the start of a new day.  She learned this year that showers were best had in the morning.  10 hours of tossing and turning in her sleep made for the messiest curls, "but you wouldn't understand, Mom.  No one in this family understands what it's like to have curly hair", she'd say with a sigh, simultaneously petting her own tendrils.  There were night rituals too- picking out clothes and underwear, lying them flat on the top of her dresser, setting her matching shoes beneath.  She did not like those mornings when Terry or I slept 10 minutes later than we should've, which in turn made her rush.  This was the girl who enjoyed a slower pace, an episode of Spongebob, and avocado toast + side of orange juice in the morning thankyouverymuch.  As each person piled into the car, she'd inevitably be the only one who'd remember the order for drop-off.  "Everyday, Fiona, you NEED to sit on the right side.  Every.  Day."  Exasperated.  And every afternoon she'd be the first one off the bus, talking to me before even setting foot on the sidewalk.  "Mom.  Today the CRAZIEST thing happened."  Everyday.  The craziest.  

This is the first year she made a best friend who lives walking distance from our house.  This was the year she admitted she secretly wanted a purple cast on her arm, just like her friend Riley.  This was the year she decided she likes boys a little itty bitty bit more than last year.  Especially if they're blonde.  (?)  This was the year that she learned to do a split.  (This was the year we humored her and pretended like she wasn't doing something shy of a split).  This was the year she discovered that egg salad was private food, and would rather eat the less delicious pbj sandwich to avoid any heckling from classmates who may not like the smell of egg salad. This was the year she went to NYC for the first time and couldn't wait to tell her teacher about it.  This was the year that she pored over her first chapter book.  This was the year that math began to make to sense.  This was the year she did a video presentation (along with all of her classmates) for all the moms & dads... "I love my Dad because he's as strong as a hippo, he wakes up at 1:00 am to jumprope" (cue impressed looks from other dads) "and because he's as handsome as Justin Timberly".  (Justin Timberlake.  And he does not wake up at 1:00 am to jumprope).  "And I love my mom because she's there for me when my dad is not."  ???  (Cue worried looks on all the parents' faces).  This was the year she grew over 3" taller and jumped an entire shoe size.  

Next week first grade will already be a thing of the past.

>>> check out the others' beautiful photos here <<<

scenes from a spring weekend

Our yard.

The line was awfully blurry between the landscaping style of "wild & natural" and the landscaping style of "great place to dump a dead body".  The girls were trekking in unrecognizable gelatinous yuck on the soles of their rain boots, slipping on the steps as they walked upstairs.  I believe it was the remains of slugs that were loving life in our knee-high grass.  It was only a matter of time before someone stepped on a snake or found a tick in their hair.

I'm happy to report that we've managed to tame some of the wildlife back there.  Things are better, but will never be perfect.  So, if I can't have the pristine yard of my dreams, I will love my 4 little garden boxes and the time I spend with my girls.

Last year we planted wildflowers.  I swore I would never plant them again, as they are more hearty and invasive than mint or other ground covers.  I was ready to yank them out a few weeks ago when they reappeared, and make room for my summer vegetables.  But the girls insisted we needed to keep them until they bloom.

I'm glad they convinced me.  They make a very temporary season a bit more real.

week 18 // you are my wild

We went to one of our favorite spots to check on a baby lamb, but left with a paper cup filled with fresh picked wild daisies in watered-down iced coffee.

>>> This is my newest favorite week at you are my wild.

You have to see it here. <<<