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.

we're featured today at green hour.
so grab a hammock
and maybe a few books
and pile in together for some
serious family time.

Today my baby turns two.

my baby.

just walked downstairs and found a pee spot
on my bed
on my pillow
and by the looks of it you would think she had drank 10 juice boxes previously.

and i broke down in tears.

do you know what i could be doing right now?
i could be back packing through europe!
i could be an accomplished musician!
i could be a succesful painter by now!
i could have a clean house
i could have written the great american novel!
or at least edited it.
i could have a bedroom that is a sanctuary
instead of a pee soaked bed.

i took a few moments to calm down
let my tears dry
and came back upstairs to realize what i really do have:

i have masking tape sculptures
i have jack-o-lantern smiles
i have a diaper clad baby wearing nothing but bunny ears and a grin
i have a shared art studio
with art journals filled with images of cats and puppies and sparkly paint
i have a garden that we planted together
i have christmas songs belted out by 4 little but loud voices
i have roadtrips across deserts with pee breaks taken on the hour
i have hand written notes: "my mom is uhmaysing, i lvoe u."

i have moments on a hammock were the love eclipses the brillant sun

my life is full

it's out of my control

it's messy and often ridiculous

and that's ok.

i had begun to question my ability to parent, at least kindly. after one too many moments of grout playin', toilet swirlin', mess makin', parent frustratin' days i had simply had enough. i threw in that dirty towel and said, "that's it! you guys are the parents! i'm just a kid."

so instead of continuing to rile myself up about garbage being emptied and flushed down the toilet... i washed my hands and went and bought a big box of donuts. then i designed an interview for the three older kids (while the babe napped) and i took each of them, one at a time, to a park and got to know them better. the chocolate milk ran steady, faces grew dirty, and the questions were answered quite liberally.some of my favorite answers:

what are you most afraid of? "my imagination"

what do you want to be when you grow up? "a mom! with 8, 9, 10, 11 kids!" while holding up 5 fingers.