Mr. Crow Goes To School.

An odd sight today, taking the girls to school.

The walkway leading to the school was empty of all the usual suspects: kids running to the building, parents frantically dropping off science projects (which probably represent more of their efforts than those of their student), and the occasional teacher running "just a few minutes late" and hurrying to get to the classroom before their charges arrived.

Empty. Clear. Quiet.

Save for one crow. A large specimen, even for his species. Shiny and so black that he was almost blue in color. Practically iridescent. And this crow was walking away from my view and towards the doors of the school.

He was walking to school.

Perhaps it was the extra jolt of coffee I'd had that morning, but I found this sight to be extraordinary in nearly every way. My mind's eye flipped through multiple What Ifs of this scenario in rapid succession, and I found myself completely transfixed by it. What if this lovely fellow went to school? What would he do in there? Did he know he was heading to school or was he being dared by some bigger crow bullies who were off in the field watching him. Was this a crow initiation of sorts, perhaps? Or did it mean, (as is most likely the case, I know) absolutely nothing at all.

And still I wondered. And thought. And watched.

In case you're wondering, and I have to assume you must be just a bit curious since you're still reading these words, he made it all the way to the door. And then stopped and turned around, and headed off to the field. Perhaps he 'Chickened' out? (Can you use other members of the aviary community to describe the actions of a crow?) Maybe at the very end he decided, like any kid might do, that he just didn't feel like going to school today after all. Maybe he went back to home sleep. Maybe the bully crows in the field pecked at him for failing the initiation. Or maybe he was just being a crow, doing what crows do, and his curiosity ran out and he flew off.

I don't know. Never will.

But if I had to put a writer's spin on it, I like to think that he was tired of doing 'the same old thing' and was ready for a new adventure.Just for today.(Ever felt that way?) But when he got there, he hesitated, as we all are known to do. There is comfort in the familiar. He left that path, and headed back to his routine. His adventure put on hold for another day. Later. Next time. Someday. Maybe.

Perhaps I'll see him another day. (I find myself silently cheering him on).

Parenting 101: Don't Push Your Kid Into The Mud

Last week, while walking my darlings to the car after picking them up from school, I accidentally (remember that word...accidentally) bumped Ashlyn.

 This happens. It's bound to. On one hand I have a leader (that would be Caedance), yanking away with an impatient, "C'mon Mom! Let's GO"; ready to put as much distance as possible between her and "That Place". On the other hand, walks The Thinker (Ms. Ashlyn), dawdling about with lingering thoughts of the pleasures and sorrows that can occur in 2 1/2 hours. Mind wandering. Thoughts meandering.

Bump. (That would be my hip).

And her foot slipped into the mud puddle that has been conveniently growing on the side of the sidewalk. Hello, Mr. Mud. How you doing? Meet Ashlyn's foot.

A big deal? Nope. Not at all. No falling. No mud bath. Just a muddy shoe.

But such drama. Oh. Such. Drama.

"MAMA! You pushed me into the mud! Oh! Why? WHY?! Into the mud, where it's dirty. It's so dirty, Mama! This is not a good day at all. Ruined. Oh, Mama."

I stand corrected. It was a big deal.

I apologized. (Remember that magic word, "Accidentally"? It didn't mean much to her.)

She was cleaned up. (Rather, the shoe was cleaned up). The day went on. And the next. And the next. So on and so forth.

This week, the saga continues. As we walked the path away from Franklin Elementary, Caedance fleeing the scene of apparent crimes unknown, and Ashlyn tra-la-la-ing away, we passed The Mud Puddle. "Mama? Do you remember when you pushed me into the mud? Right there? THAT mud puddle? You pushed me. You sure did. I remember it."

Hmmmmmm. I see you do. With some embellishments added, I see.

So. There it is.

Star Child

Caedance is my "firstborn". She enjoyed 6 minutes of being an "Only Child" before her twin was delivered. And in some ways I think those 6 precious minutes count for more than the 360 seconds they represent.

She is my "Never Give Up" child who will throw a fit out of the sheer frustrations of her efforts sometimes. She sees her sister achieve by grace and with ease; nothing seems to come with difficulty for Ashlyn. For Caedance, there can be struggles. But it's a joy to watch her sort through whatever it is she's working towards. Until she gets it the way she wants to. Until there is success. Her success; on her terms. You can't "hand" anything to her. And oh the smile that fills her face when she's accomplished her goal. It's beyond joy. It's pure and utter illumination.

This week brought on a challenge for my "oldest". Ashlyn lost her first tooth back in November, and Caedance was content to lag behind. Until this week. Ashlyn was walking around the house when she declared that yet another tooth was loose and, well look at that!, she pulled it right out. Tooth number 2. I found Caedance in the bathroom, yanking diligently on the not-quite-loose-enough tooth that she had in her own mouth. Just tugging away with a sense of desperation that this time...this time...it could not just be Ashlyn. No way. Not this time.

I convinced her to wait on her tooth, letting it get a bit more loose before trying to get it out. She went to bed that night, watching her sister get the Tooth Pillow ready for the Tooth Fairy, listening to her excitement over having lost another tooth, and still finding the resolve to be patient. (Life cannot be easy when you come in groups of comparable twos).

She woke up the next day with a new sense of purpose about her not-so-wobbly-tooth, and that purpose seemed to be, "Get It Out". She spent the entire day patiently wiggling it with her tongue. It was slightly more loose in the morning. A little more so in the afternoon. By evening, it had gotten looser still. Working away at it, bit by bit. Wiggle. Wiggle. Push. Push. Push. Like chipping away at a barrier. Get It Out.

Then at dinner, the moment came. She stopped eating and worked in earnest on her tooth. Push. Push. Push. Until all at once, a smile spread over her face. She leaned over and spit out a tiny white gem. That precious first tooth. Out. Finally. Success.

I'm not quite sure who was happier about this event; her or me. We may have been tied. It brought so much joy to me to be able to slip that pillow under her head, seeing her smile with wonder at the coming of the Tooth Fairy. For her! Our star for the evening.

And there is something very precious about seeing our two little girls with gaps in their smiles. Together. Toothless.

(And armed with this success, she's already begun to wiggle and prod at the next not-so-wobbly-tooth. Slow and steady wins the race, after all).

Goodbye-Vacation....

"Back To School". Perhaps the most dreaded, most malevolent phrase in all of kid-dom. With Christmas Vacation winding down, it's time to bring out that phrase around my girls. It still strikes fear, as it always has. Two little faces are crestfallen at it. Every time.

I remember way back in the day, when I was the school-goer of the house, living for breaks and days off. Of course, this was back in the 80's and 90's, which meant that school got "way uncool" and "super-lame" after all of the new sweater dresses, leg warmers, banana clips, Skidz apparel had made the rotation; and when all the "totally awesome" school supplies had either been broken into and were rendered now "uncool" (i.e color change pens), OR had been banned by the teachers (i.e the stack of Cool Shades notebooks filled with colored paper: pink, yellow, blue, purple).

In other words, we began counting the days till the next days off on September 1st.

Two weeks is just enough time, it turns out, to somehow convince yourself that you must have heard things wrong. It's not two weeks off; it's two months. One need not worry. One will be off for a long time. One can be happy.

Breaking the truth to my girls has been a delicate procedure. "It's not time to go back to school! No! We're still on vacation!" That vehement denial turned into desperate pleading, "Pleeeaaassseee make vacation longer. Please say we don't need to go back! We're smart! We're good! We don't neeeeeeeeeedddd to go back to school!" And now we've finally morphed into the final phase of 'reconditioning'--meek acceptance; "Today we're not going to school, are we? This isn't a school day, right?" Followed by a heavy sigh.

Christmas Vacation was good. Fun was had by all. Now it's time to pack up and get this second half of the year done. Up and at 'em, kiddos. (And I think they'll be ready to go on Monday.)

Ashlyn said it best the other day: Caedance was complaining about not wanting to go back, saying, "I don't want to go. I don't like school." Ashlyn put her arm around her twins shoulder, stared her in the eye and said, "Oh, but it's okay that you don't want to go and you don't like it. Because you'll just have to do it anyway. Might as well smile about it."

Wise words, little girl. Wise words, indeed.

Hello Kitty.

"There she is! Grab her!"

"Come back here!" (insert cat meee-ooowww here)

"I almost got her that time!"

"Mom? Why does the cat always run away when I chase her?"

"Mommy why does the cat always run away when I squeeze her?"

"Hey mom? Why won't the cat let me sit on her?"

"Mom, can I bring the cat into the bathtub with me?"

Oh, poor felines in the Dickinson house. How I do weep for you. There was a time in life when you knew peace and calm. When you did not know the quick thud of chasing feet. When you were not quarry to the prey fast behind you.

Sigh.

Such changes.

And yet.

And yet the fact that you constantly place yourself within their eyesight and just outside their grasps tells me that you might not mind it all quite as much as you lead us to think.

Suki & Zoe. (Anna is hiding in peace. Somewhere else.)

On Being a "Dodder".

I love that the girls are figuring out the twisty-turny maze that is Familial Titles & Relationships. For the first time, they are understanding that not only am I their Mommy, but THEY are my daughters, which they call, "dodder". They're even working out that Grandma Peggy is not, in fact, my sister, but is my mother. And to top it all off, Ashlyn deducted that I must then be Peggy's "dodder".

Whew! That was a lot of figurin' for the early morning. We'll have to work on the male roles another day. :)


And what it all boils down to is simple: We are family. We are together. Here. Now. And I love it.

Extra Rich Potica

This recipe is from a Slovenian Society Cookbook. So far, anything I've tried out of it has been wonderful.

2 ounces of yeast
1 TBS sugar
1TBS flour
1/2 cup warm milk
Dissolve yeast, sugar, and flour in warm milk and set in warm place until foamy.

1/2 cup sweet butter
1 cup milk, scalded
6 cups flour
1 tsp salt
3/4 cup sugar
2 whole eggs, beaten
4 egg yolks, beaten
Melt butter in scalded milk and set aside to cool. Place flour in large bowl; add salt, sugar, cooled milk & butter, beaten eggs, and yeast mixture. Mix well. Then beat with a wooden spoon or heavy duty mixer until dough separates from sides of bowl. Knead about 10 minutes until dough is smooth and pliant (if necessary, add more flour). Grease dough and place in a greased bowl. Cover with cloth and set aside in warm place to rise for 1 1/2 hours or until doubled in size.

Nut Filling:
1 cup half and half or sweet cream
1/2 cup butter
2 pounds walnuts, ground
1/2 cup honey
1 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp grated lemon rind
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 egg yolks
2 egg whites, stiffly beaten
Scald cream and butter. Pour over the nuts. Add honey, lemon juice and rind, vanilla, sour cream, and sugar; mix well. Add egg yolks and mix. Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites. If mixture is dry, add more cream.

 Roll out dough on lightly floured board or cloth until it is 1/4 inch thick. Spread nut mixture evenly over the dough. Roll as for a jelly roll. Cut into 3 rolls using a floured saucer, which will prevent the filling from oozing out. Place in 12 inch greased loaf pans. Prick tops with fork in several places and cover with cloth. Let rise in warm place for about 35 minutes. Brush tops with melted butter OR beaten egg and bake in 325 degree oven for 1 hour. When done, remove pans from oven; let poticas rest in pans for 10 minutes before removing; then cool on wire racks.