Popsicle Chat

This post is mostly for Grandma, who loves to hear Mattias babble.

We've really discovered popsicles this summer.

[video emoved]

I was so fascinated by Mattias' babble, that I wasn't paying attention to the fact that he was dripping strawberry juice all over everything. Until he drops his popsicle on the floor (at the very end). Now, when I watch this video, I really wonder.  Couldn't I just put a bib on him? We easily own 20 bibs; I'm not sure that I ever use any of them. What do I have against bibs?

As cute as all the babble is, I kind of hope Mattias slows down. Noah talks enough already!  Today, running errands, I decided that driving with my four year old is the equivalent of driving and talking on the cell phone. Very distracting, that is. And unfortunately, I can't just "disconnect" the four year old.

Seven

When Fritz and I started dating, I knew that he was someone I could spend my whole life getting to know. This may sounds strange, but it was amazingly appealing to me.

And so far, both the getting to know and the appealing phenomenon are still true.

He picked up this violin and played it a few months ago. I mean - he played an actual tune! I didn't know he could do that. I asked him later, "Have you played violin before?"

"No, never."

Well, maybe you can guess that from his technique. But I'm pretty sure I couldn't blindly get a tune out of a violin, technique or not.

I have to tell you, I love a good surprise! (Well, sometimes.)

We went out to celebrate our anniversary. Alone. Without piccolini. It's the first time we've celebrated our anniversary out, on the town, so to speak, in FIVE YEARS because of real or perceived problems with finding and accepting babysitters.  (Yes, okay, I do have issues....)

And it was wonderful. And the very expensive babysitter was wonderful. But Mattias still smelled like her this morning, so I know it couldn't have been so wonderful for him - or her. He must have spent a lot of time being held between 8pm and midnight.

Outsourcing Motherhood

We've been quite busy with projects lately. Yesterday, I was talking to a friend about projects and projects with piccolini, and how it's going (or not), and I said, "You know...you can't outsource being a mother."

We both smiled and nodded our heads. But a moment later, our grins faded and it was clear that we were both thinking the same thing:

"Yes, you can! Nannies? Babysitters? Au Pairs?"

Then I felt rather foolish. Because who am I to make such grandiose statements about my value and my worth? Who do I think I am, acting like I'm so special and irreplaceable? I need to get off my high horse.

***

We had extra dirt. We had A LOT of extra dirt from the planter project this weekend.  I gave it away for free. Because even if it has a fancy name like "Organic potting soil;" in the end, it's still dirt. And it needed to be gone.

***

One mother came for dirt, with her two kids, about 3 years and 18 months, in tow. She shoveled, hauled, and loaded dirt while I chatted with her children.

"Are you in preschool?" I asked the little boy.

"Yes!" he said.

The mother chimed in: "No, they're both home with me, all the time."

***

Another person emailed me to ask if she could come in the afternoon.

"I'm taking care of my grandchild in the morning," she explained.

***

It felt significant to me: the mother, with two kids under 3, tackling a dirt project. The grandmother, waiting until she no longer had childcare responsibilities.

Is there a difference between a mother and a caregiver? Is it significant that the mother does a dirt project with her children while a caregiver (in this case, a grandmother) doesn't?

Fritz would say, "The difference could be personality. It could be generational. The difference could be the age of the kids. This is 'n of 2.' It's inconclusive data."

In short, he would say I'm over-analyzing.

I would partially concede, "there is no significance yet."

***

Still, I like this version: mothers can seldom afford the luxury of "later, without children," And thus, our children learn to be proactive - our children learn to take action - from life with us, the mothers. Maybe there are lessons from motherhood that can't be reached by outsourcing?

Or maybe I'll still on my high horse.