see that child with the dimpled tukas?
well, she's decided to cook. and by cook i mean make real meals, and chop veggies, and arrange delectable desserts. she's a literal ratatouille with a knack and ability well beyond her years.
and the first three times she did it i wanted to ring her neck.

the first time was a lazy sunday afternoon, the hubs and i were cuddled up tuning out the noises of the children, and in an effort to distract G from our moment i suggested to my three year old,
"go make dinner," and then i laughed.
she squealed and ran upstairs. after a moment i heard a chair scrape across the floor, i heard pots and pans clanking, the refrigerator slam shut, and i realized, "she's really making dinner!"

for her it was as if she'd been waiting for the invitation and she couldn't wait to take over the kitchen.

when i scrambed up the stairs i found her at the stove top stirring pasta roni in a small saucepan. she had looked at the illustrated directions on the back of the box and had put in butter, 2 sippy cups worth of water and a sippy cup of soy milk. all that held her back was her fear of the gas stove (which i thank my lucky stars for every day).

at first i was frustrated that she had wasted a box of food, but when i realized that she had added everything properly we decided to cook it up. and we ate it for dinner. and it was good.

but of course the story doesn't end there. the next night she brought a tray of vegetables to me:
she had chopped cucumbers, red peppers, mushrooms and carrots with a giant chefs knife. scaring me! the next day she chopped carrots, dipped them in brownie mix and brown sugar, and my husband baked them, much to her delight.

a week later i was on the phone, 10 feet from the kitchen when she brought me a box of cook-and-serve butterscotch pudding i gently told her to wait a few moments until i got off the phone.
but there's no stopping her. she dumped the package into a fry pan, mixed in brown sugar, almonds, water, and a tidge of crisco and then announced that she was ready for me to cook it.
again, i was frustrated! more food wasted! but after calming down, i added some milk and cooked that baby up. the only way i can describe it is, creme brulee. it was GOOD.

and i was left in astonishment. one of the things that i pray for daily is to be aware of what their talents are so that i can nourish and strengthen the areas that they already show efficacy. and here is a girl who shows not just interest in cooking, but actual skill. and while it is a source of frustration for me in these early days of her experimenting, how great a pay off would it be if she was willing and able to cook dinner for us when she's five?

we have made a pinkie promise: every time i cook, she gets to cook with me, but she can't cook by herself any more. here's to hoping she'll keep that promise.

last week i was typing and e was helping out with putting dishes away. suddenly she was beside me with an earnest question, "how big is space?" we talked about the unmeasurableness that space is, how there is no limit, no way to completely comprehend it. space is as big as our spirits are old.

she smiled coyly and went back to the dishes.

a few days later she was trying to decide whether to go to a play with the hubs and me or to go and play at her cousin's house. she was getting very anxious, her weight shifting, tears in her eyes as she exclaimed, "if i go to auntie's i might tell her my secrets." fear boiled in me as i asked what secrets she had to tell. with no hesitation she screamed out, "i'm afraid of space!!!"

as i held her and comforted her i also expressed my fear of space. it's just so big, i can't take it all in. and yet the wonder and the beauty of our relationship with space is astounding.

so what dear readers is below your surface? what terrifies and simultaneously thrills you?

the weather has been so good lately that i'm finding myself actually getting out more. i forget how much i need to be outside, how much it encourages progress. yesterday E and i went out for a photo shoot, i took pics of her, she took pics of me. we had so much fun.

as i was laying on the ground looking up at her and our camera, she starts coaching me:

"that was a great smile mama"

"you look so beautiful like that"

"you're the best photographer ever"

"now, close your eyes and smile"

i'm so grateful to have a little one that i can share my passions with. and she's good. she's really, really good. my six year old takes pictures that capture emotion, she's got composition, and a great sense of light and beauty.