Eleven Years Ago

Dear Emma Jane,
As you sleep in your bed on the last night you will be ten years old, I am restless thinking back to the long night we spent bringing you into the world.  And since the calendar repeats itself every eleven years, this Thanksgiving weekend has been spent reliving each day that led up to your birth.  From the ridiculous black Friday shopping, to the tree trimming and wrapping marathon, and ending with the cleaning frenzy of Sunday, I have been thinking back to the days of the weekend before you were born. 

You were not due for four more weeks, so I could not know that you were coming so early.  But my body somehow knew you were imminent.  The classic nesting signs that are now part of the family lore were just me being OCD that weekend.  How convenient that I got the tree up and decorated, presents purchased, wrapped and under the tree, the entire house cleaned, and a grocery store trip that involved me purchasing a deli tray for 20 people, all before my water broke on Sunday evening.

Just as everyone was returning to their hometown after the Thanksgiving weekend, they started to get the phone calls, Emily is having a baby tonight...well tomorrow anyway.  I was in denial all the way up until they told me I wasn't going to be back home in time to watch Bobby Donnel in The Practice.  "What?"  I said, "Why?"   The nurse just looked at me and said "You are having a baby."

It was a tough night.  I am not going to lie.  You were a difficult child to birth.  A breeze to raise to eleven, but a tough one to gestate and birth.  But you were finally born at 10:19 a.m. on Monday, December 2, 2002.  There are a lot of things I don't remember about that morning and I blame the stadol for that.  But I do remember the look on your dad's face when he saw you.  I couldn't see you, but I could see him.  The best word I can use to describe it is awestruck.  He was in awe of you.  Then suddenly, we both were.

As I sit next to the Christmas tree decorated with ornaments you and your sister have made over the years, I can't imagine not being your mom.  You have changed me.  You have made me into the person I am today.  You see, before you, I was...selfish.  And kind of a boy, really.  I had no maternal instincts.  None.  I had no desire to ever be a mom, or do mom things.  I was a scientist!  And I was really pretty happy doing non-mom things.  I was 32 when you were born.  All my friends had children and that was fine for them, but I had things to do!  I had boats to race and rocks to climb and miles to run!  I knew that I should feel something when people would hand me a baby, but I never did.  I never felt that yearning to start a family...or bake...or sew. 

You must find this odd to learn that your mother who bakes and sews and crafts all the time, didn't learn to do any of this until you came along.  When you were born a hormone was released that caused me to become domestic and crafty and maternal...I turned into a girl.

Thank you for changing my life.  Thank you for giving me focus and meaning and joy.  I love every part of being your mom.  Watching you grow and mature these last eleven years has been the best time of my life.  I am so lucky to have been here for it.  I can't wait to see what the next eleven holds.

Your father and I could not be more proud of you.  You are loved to the moon and back.  For the sister that you are to Lucy, for the daughter you are to us, for the person you are when we aren't watching, and even for the times when you feel you've let us down, you are loved unconditionally.


Go back and read the letter I wrote you this past March. It says everything I want to say today.  Because as I have been typing, the day has now changed over to your birthday. 

Happy Birthday Emma Jane

Love,
Mom

First Day of School

Today was the first day of Kindergarten for Lucy and the first day of fifth grade for Emma Jane.  It was our second year in the new building.  We were all a little less frazzled this year.  Lucy was much less apprehensive this year than last year.

We have been up there volunteering for about a week.  Mike built a closet/room for the Einstein teachers to store things in.  And Emma recently hemmed some curtains for the teachers.  So once again it was a team effort to get the school ready for the first day.

This is the last year that the girls will ever be in the same school together.  And Lucy is really attached to her sister.  When Emma takes a shower, Lucy sits in the floor of the bathroom and plays with her barbies.  She can't bear to be away from her.  I hope that as Emma's need for privacy grows, Lucy's independence increases.

Lucy was all ready to conquer Kindergarten.

And Emma was ready to be the leader that she already is.

Lucy gave her daddy a great big hug before her big day.

We practiced introducing ourselves last night to the teacher.  I was the teacher and I said hello to Lucy.  Then Lucy said, "Hello Mrs. Beckman, my name is Lucy, it is nice to meet you.  I am ready for a great day."  Emma Jane was pretending to be Lucy's mother and then started to cry and refused to leave the classroom and made a really ugly scene...it was really rather embarrassing and kind of funny in a 'hitting-a-little-too-close-to-home-kind-of-way".  My children apparently know me very well.

So, after snapping this photo, I ran off without making a scene and hosted a breakfast for the new Mayo parents and didn't cry one tear...or make a scene...or refuse to leave. 

Every Picture Tells a Story

Last year on Mother's day, I had one goal.  I wanted to get a photo with my girls.  Lucy had been really hard to photograph for quite some time and I had not gotten a shot of the three of us (much less the entire family) in quite a while. 

We went out in front of the house to take a picture.  For those of you who did not get a Christmas card from us here are two photos that sum up our two children the best.

Next up is a photo snapped in Mexico last summer.  Another snapshot of personalities...

Every picture tells a story.

However, I am happy to report that she has gotten a lot more cooperative this year.  This was taken Easter Sunday.

Mother's Day

This year on Mother's Day I was made a breakfast of crepes with bananas and strawberries and nutella and whipped cream and all kinds of amazing goodness.  The coffee was hot and the hugs were plentiful.  After breakfast we packed for the lake and spent the afternoon sailing in near perfect weather.  The winds were light and Emma Jane had a full lesson on sailing the boat.  She is already really good at sailing the boat but they went over terminology...what does it mean when we say "head up" or "fall off" or "sheet in".

As a storm was rolling in we docked the boat and cleaned in the sprinkling rain.  I have photos of Emma cleaning the boat on Father's day at four years old too!  I have to find them.  

We have been going non-stop this spring.  I am looking forward to a slower pace this summer.  On Mother's day I re-read my letter to Emma Jane, and my letter to Lucy.  It gave me back my focus.  

My most important job is being their mother.  When I get too tired and start to get short with them, I need to remember that they are only little for a very short while.  I already miss the cuddly stage of Lucy.  She is too busy to cuddle anymore.  I must slow down.  Reading books before bed is more important than the laundry or the dishes.

This summer I am going to slow down.  Read more books (both with and without kids).  Snuggle more.  Sail more.  Enjoy my house more.  I am getting off this merry-go-round and going to sit on the swing for a bit.

Happy Mother's day to all you moms out there who go and go and go.  Let's model for our children that there are choices to be made and that the precious time we have should be used wisely.

Lucy's Ballet Recital

On Saturday we went to see our precious baby dance in a ballet recital at ORU. She was dressed as Pocahontas. She was looking for her classmates when I got this shot. I don't know how I got it. There were hundreds of people walking past this window. But at this moment, with her on her toes peeking over the rail, no one was in view.

Sigh...

 

Her ballet class had a great performance.  They danced to Colors of the Wind from the movie Pocahontas.  

Spring Sing

Last week the Einsteins (the pre-K and Kindergarteners) had a Spring Program.  They sang about ladybugs and the sun and plants and flowers and rain.  They were absolutely adorable. 

Lucy has a best friend named Lily.  They absolutely gravitate toward each other.  They have since the beginning.  Isn't that funny (Tosca?) how you make a friend when you are so little and share so much with them? 

They also get into a bit of mischief together.  Here they are talking and making each other laugh when they were supposed to be singing.

 Those girls...

Sometimes I Over Answer

Sometimes I over answer questions.  Like the answer to the question "What is mass?"

Recently, Emma Jane was reading the book The Island of the Blue Dolphins.  It is a story about a girl who is left behind to survive on her own for years on an island in the pacific.  We were both reading the book and Emma Jane finished it before me.  I finished the book after she went to bed the other night and she is required to bring this book to class each day.  The next morning while I was buckling Lucy into her car seat, Emma came out of the house to the driveway and asked, "Mom?  Where is the Island of the Blue Dolphins?"

Without looking up from what I was doing I answered, "It is 75 miles off the coast of California in a group of islands called the Channel Islands."

Emma said, "What?"

I said "It is 75 miles off the coast of California in the Pacific Ocean in a group of islands called the Channel Islands."   I thought that adding the part about the Pacific Ocean might clarify things for her.

She said, "No.  The book, The Island of the Blue Dolphins."

I said, "Oh.  Next to the recliner."

Sometimes I over answer.

A Letter to Emma Jane

Dear Emma Jane,

I want to tell you how proud I am of you.  You are growing into an amazing young lady.  You have grown so tall in the last year.  You have always been an old soul but you can really start to see how mature you are around your sister.  You take such good care of her and watch out for her both physically and emotionally.  Your maturity is apparent in your conversations, your art, your interests, your thoughts, your thoughtfulness, your ability to read people, and your social interactions.  You said recently "I don't care what others think or say about me, because I know I am amazing."  I can't express how happy that made me.  You are amazing.  And the way you said it was not conceited.  It was with quiet confidence that you stated what is obvious to me.  I remember being pregnant with you and sitting in a restaurant in Utica Square.  I saw a young girl, maybe 15 or 16 years old, enter the restaurant, glance around the crowded room, and then stride across the restaurant to a group of adults.  When she reached them she stuck out her hand and with confidence, introduced herself and smiled.  I said to the ladies sitting with me, "I want to raise a daughter like that."  And I have.

Your interest in art is consistent in it's presence and varied in it's medium.  I do believe you will have art as your job some day.  It is your calling.  You just need to find which kind of art you will want to focus on.  You have such talent for someone so young.  I hope that you never lose your furtive need to create.  Your focus is singular and intense when you are working on a project.  I love the look in your eyes of concentration and then of pride when you complete a project.

You don't have to like science.  I think that you do, but you don't have to.  It's okay.  I am glad you enjoyed the owl pellets and that you thought finding the skull was cool.  I am glad you aren't scared of earthworms or slimy things.  I loved seeing you get excited about the comet.  But if you don't love science like I do, that is just fine.  There are so many other things we have in common.  It is frightening how the words that are just about to come out of my mouth, come out of yours first.  Or how you can have the same reaction to something that I am having, even when everyone else is opposite us.

I love your quick wit.  Your wittiness is a source of pride for me.  I have always enjoyed being the funniest person in the room but I will gladly turn over the crown to you.  My darling, you are ironic, goofy, funny, quick, sarcastic (a little), and humorous while still being kind.  Your observations make me laugh out loud.  You would rather be thought of as funny than pretty.  And that, my dear, is priceless.  Don't ever lose that.

I love the way you and I share a glance when Lucy is doing something adorable.  I love the way you seem to understand that this time is fleeting.  You seem to grasp that with each milestone that Lucy meets, we won't be going back to Bar B Poo, or Open Stephanie.  How can you be only 10 and have an understanding that these moments are fleeting?  You once said to me "Mom, I wish I had a tiny video camera I could turn on behind my eyes.  One that would record this moment and I could play it back whenever I wanted."

I want you to know that I love you no matter what; no matter what mistakes you make or what grade you make in high school Chemistry, I will love you to infinity.  Stay true to the statement you made about not caring what others think.  You are getting ready to enter a time where it might be difficult to ignore what people say about you.  Stay strong and always know that you are amazing.  You are talented and smart and beautiful and funny.  You can sail a boat, or dissect a brain, or paint a canvas, or write a poem, or sew a lunch bag.  You understand so much about the world and nature and what your place is in it.  You accept people for who they are.  You have such sweet acceptance for people from all walks of life.  Don't ever lose that.  Keep your mind open.  Question the status quo.  Follow the rules until they don't make sense anymore.  Listen to that inner voice that told you to come to me and tell me something wasn't right.  That internal compass has served you well and I believe that it will continue to serve you well if you listen to it.

Above all else, I want you to know how proud I am of you.  You are a bright shining light.  You can be anything you want to be and my hope is that you will love what you do.  You are destined for a life filled with joy and laughter and art.

I am not ready for the next 8 years.  I am not ready for you to like boys, or for boys to like you.  I am not ready for puberty or driving or college.  But I can't stop time.  And it occurs to me that I only have the next 8 years with you under my roof.  I have only 8 years to try and keep you safe and teach you how to make good decisions.  But if the girl you are today, is anything like the young lady you will be in 8 years, I have nothing to worry about.  And I can't wait to meet her!

I love you,
Mom

A Letter to Lucy

(Inspired by a friend's post to her daughter on her first birthday, I want to write a letter to each of my girls.  But I can't wait until July 3 or December 2.  I have thoughts right now that have to be written down.)

Dear Lucy,

I love 4 years old.  You are such an adorable girl at 4.  You stomp everywhere you walk because you like the sound your feet make.  You love to put your hair in pig tails and they bounce when you stomp around.  You love your blankies.  You often give them human traits and then when I join in you remind me that they don't have feelings.  I feel silly when you do this.  You are still so very young.  You suck your thumb and weave your blankie in between your fingers just so.  You are very interested in numbers right now and addition is something you like to quiz us on.  Your artistic abilities are like your sister's.  You spend a lot of time crafting and coloring.  You love your barbies and playing dress up.  You talk non-stop with your family but can be shy and almost mute with others.  You will hide behind my legs, clutching your blankie to your face.  You feel safe when you are with your daddy or me or your sister.  Sometimes when I am late to pick you up from gymnastics you have planted yourself outside the big girl dressing room waiting for your sister to take care of you.  You are smart, too.  So incredibly smart.  You love to swim, read, watch Caillou, eat hot dogs, and talk.  And when you can't remember what you were going to say, you say "I love you" instead.

I love how you smell in the morning when you are asleep.  You smell like warm blankets and moist breath and soft skin.  I love how your eyelashes look when they lay on your cheek  The sound of you sucking your thumb, lets me know you are content.  I love that you don't need personal space yet.  I can get as close as I want to your face and kiss every inch of it and you don't think I'm odd.  I want to capture forever the way you look stomping down the hallway to your room, with your pigtails bouncing.  These days you are filled with joy.

I want you to know that without you our world would not have been complete.  You are so very different from your sister.  You are strong willed but loving.  You always give me hugs when I don't feel good, and yes, they do help.  I LOVE the sound of your laugh.  You throw your head back when you laugh and it makes the whole room light up.  I like to listen to you and your sister giggling from the next room.  Your confidence in yourself is something I hope you keep forever.  Don't ever lose the sureness with which you enter a room.  Don't ever lose the quiet fortitude that you have when working on a difficult task.  Perseverance is a quality that will serve you well in the future, even if I wish you did not have so much of it when I am trying to get you to stop and go to bed.

My darling baby girl, you are loved.  The love we three have for you is overwhelming.  I wish you could feel the emotions that course through my brain, heart and blood...pride for how smart you are, tenderness for how small you are, protective for all that life can throw at you, happiness that you find joy in so much, sadness that you are growing up so fast, surprise that you're so independent at such a young age, frustration that you don't trust me sometimes, anxious knowing that you will face disappointment someday, fear that I won't get to see you grown and with your own babies, but the most dominant emotion which encapsulates all the others is love.  My love for you is endless.  I will always love you, no matter what you do, or how far apart we are.

"Oh, and Lucy?  I love you."

Your mommy

Lucy Talks (A Lot)

Last night Lucy came into our bedroom about 3:30 a.m.  She was crying.  She had a fever.  I took her temperature and asked her if she had any other symptoms.  She said no.  I gave her some ibuprofen and we snuggled up on the sofa.  We made our way to the guest bed because there was a big storm and the thunder combined with her fever made her needy. 

As she was falling asleep I was watching her and I asked if she could please take her thumb out of her mouth.  She did.  Then she started telling me about how you wouldn't want to be in a volcano and that we don't get very many earthquakes here but there is a state that gets a lot of earthquakes and that she doesn't like tornadoes and that she knows what to do when there is a tornado at school and that she wants to go to Grandma's house tomorrow and she hopes she isn't still sick and that she knows how to wash a dog; first you get the dog wet and then you get the shampoo and then you put the shampoo on the dog and scrub and then you rinse the dog and that our dog sure could use a bath and that doesn't know why she has a fever and that she has had a lot of firsts lately.  She told me that she had the first time sleeping with me a few weeks ago when she got home from the hospital and that tonight was the first night she had slept in the guest bedroom but the second time she had slept with me and that she liked sleeping with me because the thunder was too loud and that kids are sometimes afraid of loud noises like thunder and the trash truck at school that empties out the dumpster and that it sure is loud and that she just covered her ears when they were walking outside and the truck was dumping the dumpster and that the librarian, Mrs. Smith, read her a story about a trash man but that was after Mrs. Eakes had read it, so she knew all about it already and that the book wasn't loud but the truck sure was.  She also told me that her sister said she could take her head off and she didn't like that and that she wanted to craft in the morning if she felt better and that flamingos stand on one leg when they sleep but that she couldn't do that when she was asleep and that the roof of her mouth sure was dry.

I suggested that she put her thumb back in her mouth.  She did.

For the next hour she thrashed about beside me in bed.  She tossed, turned, kicked, flipped, twisted, flailed, pushed, pulled, flung, whipped, jerked, curled, straightened, sighed, kneed, flexed, stretched, and struggled.

I think it was the words trying to get out.

Fourth Grade Writing Homework

This title is a bit misleading.  Emma Jane is indeed in the 4th grade.  However, I am blown away by her writing teacher.  The assignments are not like anything I did in elementary school.  I learn something every week from this amazing teacher.  And the progression of Emma Jane since August is like nothing I have ever witnessed.  She keeps a composition book to turn in each week.  It is amazing to look through her writing assignments from September and see how she has progressed in her creativity and construction.

A couple of examples of assignments and what Emma Jane turned in.

From the teacher:  Since we are continuing to refine our sentence writing skills, we are moving on to parallel construction.  With that construction in mind, with our pens in hand, and with dedication of purpose, we will write ten sentences - each with a series of phrases or clauses created with parallel construction.  (Notice here that the teacher uses parallel construction in her directions?  I love that woman!)  Each phrase or clause must consist of at least four words.  They may be subordinate clauses, prepositional phrases, gerund phrases, participial phrases, or anything else.  

From Emma Jane:
1. Because my sister is sick, because she is contagious, because I don't want to get sick, I stay in my room.
2. Inside Lucy's doll house, on top of her wardrobe, and around her bed, tissues are everywhere.
3. With a canvas in front of me, with paintbrushes in hand, with a sky full of pink and orange clouds, I paint a masterpiece.
4. On a lake full of ducks, on a cold day in March, on a shoreline that was once flooded, my grandpa bought a boat.
5. Swimming through the freezing water, quacking their beaks off, and eating bread from my breakfast, the ducks I named Nelly and Gertrude are fun to watch.
6. I woke up to the sun rising over the water, the birds singing their morning song, and the moon setting on the horizon.

How is that for using the material before you?

This week the assignment was to write 3 poems.

From the teacher:

Writing homework is to write three poems:  One haiku, one cinquain, and one diamante. Choose one topic and write all three poems on that topic.
 

Remember a haiku is three lines: the first has five syllables; the second has seven; and the third, five. 

Because Emma Jane had just finished reading the book Hatchet this weekend, because she had Hatchet on the brain, and because she needed to write three poems, she used the novel as the topic for her three poems.

Here is her haiku.

Starving, stranded boy

Surviving in the forest

For fifty-nine days

The cinquain has five lines. The first line is a noun that is the topic or the title. The second line is two adjectives. The third line is three words describing the noun.  The fourth line is four words describing feelings related to that noun.  The fifth line is a single noun that is either a synonym for or is some reference to the first noun. 

Here is her cinquain.

Boy

Scared, strong

Trying to survive

Desperate to be rescued

Brian

A diamanté is a seven-line poem.  The first line is a noun. The second line is two adjectives. The third line is three gerunds (ing verbs).   The fourth line is four nouns. The fifth line is three verbs (again gerunds). The sixth line is two adjectives. The seventh line is a noun that is either a synonym or an antonym of the first noun. The poem often changes tone (or if it’s an antonym at the end—changes topic) halfway through the line of four nouns.

Here is her diamanté.

Castaway

Desperate, hungry

Crashing, starving, hurting

Hatchet, tornado, radio, airplane

Landing, surprising, rescuing 

Brave, resourceful

Survivor

Shaped like a diamond

Just like it was meant to be

Creative, smart girl

(sorry, couldn't resist)

What Is Mass?

When Emma was just 4 years old and had just started at Mayo Demonstration School for Science and Technology, she was having her after school snack and asked me, "Mom, what's mass?"

I freaked out.  I was so ecstatic.  My 4 year old daughter who had just started school was learning about mass and asking me to explain it to her????  I said as calmly as I could "Well Emma Jane, I am so glad you asked.  Mass is the amount of matter in a substance irregardless of gravity.  Your mass here is the same as your mass on the moon, but your weight would be different. For example, my weight here on earth is 135 but my weight on the moon would be 23 pounds.  Weight is related to gravity but mass is independent of gravity."

Then I went to get a pan balance that I just happen to have in the craft room and set up a quick experiment in the kitchen in which we were going to determine the mass of the Oreos she was eating.  I was explaining that we were going to compare the mass of the Oreos to something with a known mass.  She hesitated for a moment, knowing that she was derailing the science train barreling down the track and said, "Mom, I think it's church.  Sophie invited me to go on Saturday."

"Oh,"  I said.

Cold weather, colder water

This was Lucy and Emma Jane playing down inside the Catalina 30 that Davis was getting ready to buy.

Right after this we decided to head up to the cabin and get some dinner at the marina restaurant.  The girls donned their life jackets and went up to the cockpit.  Lucy was told to stay in the cockpit.  She did not.

She exited the starboard side of the boat and right into the 48 degree water.  From down below I heard Emma Jane scream "Daddy!"  We all ran up top and saw little Lucy crying and dog-paddling away from the boat to open water.  I think she was either disoriented or afraid of being squished between the dock and the boat.  Mike talked her into swimming back toward him and reaching for his hands.  He scooped up a very wet, very cold little girl into his arms and handed her over to Davis.  The air temp was somewhere around the same as the water so as I started to strip Lucy's clothes off her she began to shiver hard.  Once her soaking wet clothes and life jacket were off, we whisked her down below and Davis took off toward the cabins in search of towels.  The boat comes equipped with a heater so it was turned on high.  I wrapped myself around Lucy (maybe a little too tightly) and rocked her back and forth in front of the vent.

This is Lucy about 15 minutes after going for a swim.

She is wearing her daddy's shirt.  She is happy.  She is laughing at her sister. We are talking about how much trouble I am going to be in when Grandpa (my dad) finds out about this.  You can read about my dad here.

This is the front bench outside our cabin.  It was no secret to anyone walking by what had happened to Cabin 9.  Who has an entire set of clothes laid out to dry in 50 degree weather?

Since I only packed one life jacket and one pair of shoes, and because Lucy was in need of dry ones, Mike went to the nearest Wal Mart and bought her new shoes and a new life jacket.

Her new life jacket has Hello Kitty on it.  So do her new shoes.

I was worried the next day that she might have some lasting phobia about boats or docks.  My fears were quickly put to rest.

She wanted to go back and feed Nelly and Gertrude.

Gertrude is white and, according to Lucy and Emma Jane, is a boy.
 

Nelly is a beautiful mix of white, black and grey and is a bit of show off when it comes to catching food in her mouth.

It seemed everyone wanted to hold Lucy's hand the next day...
 

Lucy was ready to take the boat out for a test sail.  Kick the tires.

That's my hunky husband on the bow.

 The skipper and his first mate at the helm.

See my new life jacket daddy got me just because I fell in the lake?

Here we are out for the inaugural sail on Lake Texoma.

Here is the proud new boat owner.  Doesn't he look good?

Let the Television Be Your Guide

I don't like SpongeBob SquarePants.  Quite a number of years ago, when Emma Jane was 3 or 4, I turned on an episode and was offended by something.  I can't remember what.  I don't remember what offended me but I remember finding the cartoon objectionable and thinking it was inappropriate for her to watch.  I turned it off.

And apparently I hold grudges against cartoons because I have never given him another chance.  That is unlike me.  I sometimes try pickles just to see if I like them yet.  I still don't.  So whenever SpongeBob would come on the station we were watching I would turn it.  I do not believe that I ranted or raved about my dislike.  After all, I really can't remember why I disliked it so.  But apparently my kids have heard the message loud and clear.

Today as Lucy was on the up swing of her illness and I was just on the rapid decent into mine, I laid down for a nap.  I turned on Nick Jr. and told her to come get me if she needed anything.  Max and Ruby were on.  What a sweet show. 

I must have fallen deep into sleep because it took me several times of her saying Mommy, Mommy for me to focus on what she was saying.  She said, "Mommy, I need you."  I said, "What do you need baby?"  She said, "I need you to turn the channel."  I told her that I couldn't make it to the living room as bad as I was feeling at the moment and could she just be happy with what was on. 

With a pitiful, still scratchy, voice she squeaked out, "But SpongeBob is on the TV and I don't know how to change the channel."  I smiled into my pillow and said, "It's okay baby...you can watch it this time."

About 20 minutes later I woke up to see her sitting in the chair beside my bed.  She was sucking her thumb and had been crying.  When I saw that she had been crying I jumped out of bed and knelt down in front of her and asked her what was wrong.  She said, "You need to go to the hospital."  I told her that I would be okay that I didn't need to go to the hospital. 

She said, "But you must be REALLY SICK, because you let me watch SpongeBob!"

Einstein Overnight

One of the quintessential Mayo experiences is the overnight.  There is an overnight for each group of grades.  The Pre-K and Kindergartners are called the Einsteins.  And the Einsteins have their overnight in the school.  Last Thursday before Lucy got sick on Friday, we spent the night in the school.

We did activities around the building, including reading this book in the library!  You can read about why this is funny in this post.

We made pigeons with paint and our hands (as in Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus).

Then Lucy painted a truck in the cafeteria.

The first thing she did was grab a paint brush and put a big swath of black paint across a paper plate.  Just as I was about to ask her why she did that, she put the truck down and ran the wheels through the paint, thereby painting the wheels all the way around.  My jaw dropped.  It would have never have occurred to me to do that.

Then it was time to brush teeth and read books and go to bed.

Lucy has a little trouble with the water in the water fountain jumping off and running down her shirt.

Below we are reading books with our dear friend Lily and her dad Jeff.  I hope we didn't give her the Flu that we ended up with 48 hours later!

I did not get much sleep that night but it was worth it!  I will always treasure the bonding time of the overnights.  The teachers put so much work into this night.  It is always a learning, bonding, sharing, memory-making adventure.  I can tell you who has sleep apnea, who has allergies and who has a deviated septum!  But I wouldn't trade it for anything.