fairy houses and more favorites

The fairy houses handbook arrived in a paper grocery bag a few weeks ago, tucked in with girls size 10-12 clothes and other books and even a poem. What good friends we have! They know us well, and this book is a most excellent hand-me-down.

Something about those inspiring photographs got the children out early yesterday: gathering, furniture building, scouting out the perfect spot, arranging. Their enthusiasm brought out the aspirational, romantic, fluffy sheep and beeswax candles and runny homemade yogurt and dandelion crowns sort of stay-at-home mother in me. She resides amongst many other sorts of mothers but sometimes does like to run the show. (She bristled a little when a neighborhood boy, older and a little lonely, wandered in during the gathering portion of the morning and usurped my leadership role. No, no, we are not making fairy boats, I wanted to say. Geez. These are domiciles for our garden sprites. Get it straight. Instead I stepped back and listened to the conversation, wondering how I could feel so irritated by the presence of a lost soul in our midst, rather than welcoming him. Let's just say - euphemistically - that the yogurt maker can be a bit inflexible.)

She may be particularly dominant just now because I am able to appreciate the pleasures of being at home, coming on the heels of a very intense last few weeks at work. I can notice and feel grateful for granola-toasting on Tuesday morning or volunteering at Gabriel's school; it isn't something I take for granted. At least not yet. Domesticity, most especially the one-on-one time with Beatrice, tastes very sweet.

Don't get me wrong: the bickering is driving me bonkers, the laundry is dreary as ever, and I am completely overwhelmed by the tasks of preparing for our sabbatical year away.

But still. It is so good to be home. So I thought I'd share some of the things we're enjoying right now.

An aside: I always like to know what my friends are eating, wearing, reading, watching. Have you spent an embarrassing amount of money on a face cream at Whole Foods? Do tell. New clogs? A picture, please. (Anna, if you are reading this: I found a binder full of emails from when we lived in Belgium. The first from you opened with a description of your outfit and what you had for lunch. I teared up. Remember those days?)

Anyway! The first item worth sharing: a green smoothie everyone in my family likes. That is no small thing. It is simple and delicious. I've also been making a plain kefir-frozen pitted cherries-almond butter smoothie that Beatrice and I can't get enough of.

On the reading front: Mike is reading The Princess and the Goblin aloud to Frances and Gabriel. When he can't, I get to read them Harriet the Spy. I swear, the first chapter of that book is one of the best I have ever read. Harriet is a marvel. All of us have been loving a fun new beautiful book of nursery rhymes, and I have read two novels recently that I would not push upon you to read - they are not extraordinary - but I do like them. The Paying Guests (thanks to Anna for the recommendation) and Frances and Bernard.

And we always read George and Martha and will never tire of it. I wish James Marshall had not died so very young.

The "purple girl" in the above picture is welcoming you to fairy tea. She was also the prize (the prize?! Really, Meagan?) that Beatrice got after we stopped nursing. The last time was Mother's Day Eve. I still feel a bit sad and mixed up about it. It has me dreaming of babies and spending strange amounts of time snuggling up to Frances's mouse Reepicheap. He is another favorite worth mentioning. He is in fact a wreck of a rodent, having overgroomed much of his fur off and torn his little ears to bits by scratching at them. He stinks and poops in your hands. He is the cutest little thing.

Ah, the mysteries of love!

Speaking of. In closing, I leave you with some pictures of Beatrice, who was telling me about all the fairy babies and what they like to eat and when their nap times are (you can see one of their cradles in the above picture, to the right of the table). The cuteness was completely over the top, it was blowing my mind. She explained about Fairy Baby Pansy and Fairy Baby Delphinium and Fairy Baby Phlox. Phlox. She said that.

And now you! What did you have for lunch today?

feeling teller

Today I visited three classrooms at Gabriel's school as part of Dare to Dream Day (back in the literal-minded 80s, we called it Career Day). I signed up during the whirlwind end-of-semester time, when I could barely manage one day to the next. I didn't have much brain space to dedicate to figuring out what a clinical social worker should say or do with kindergartens and first and second graders, but I put my hope in my future better-rested self, who could surely figure it out.

Now the semester is over. I made banana chocolate chip muffins this afternoon! I have stopped by the library no less than three times over the past five days, and two of those days were spent alone with my husband on the Eastern Shore. Yes, it's true! Overnight! Ask my wonderful in-laws who stayed with the kids and got them to school on time, or marvelous Bob and Cathy, who lent us their house on a tidal creek that is frequented by osprey and red-winged blackbirds. For the first time in three years, we skipped town.

...Ah. That was really, really good. But what was I talking about? Oh. Yes. Dare to Dream Day.

I first did what anyone who knows her would do: I asked Christen for advice. She gave me great ideas for talking about feelings with kids in a playful way. She also recommended this lovely book. So I put it on hold at the library. I futzed around on the internet some last night, put a few notes together, and decided - nervously - that it would all somehow come together.

Then Gabriel and I walked to school this morning. On the way he asked me what I was planning on doing when I visited his class. And then miraculously, within minutes, he helped me come up with a terrific idea: why not make feeling tellers? He is obsessive when it comes to origami and has made about a thousand 'fortune tellers' over the past couple of years. Perhaps you've seen them before? My children love to make them and write absurd, outrageous fortunes under the paper flaps. (I have a feeling I have blogged about this, years ago...but know I could never find it in the mountains of posts.)

I had a blast with the second graders and kindergarteners. It did somehow come together. They showed me their style of "belly breathing" and told me all about what colors their feelings were. But when I finally landed in Gabriel's first grade classroom, the real fun - and chaos - began.

I watched my newly minted seven year old stride up to the front of the classroom and begin instructing his fellow students on how to fold a feeling teller, step by step, using the document camera. Mrs. Pirela whispered to me that she started calling him Professor Gabriel after he assumed this authoritative style when teaching his classmates to make paper boats last week. Sure, he's watched a lot of how-to YouTube videos. That may have inspired his manner. But nonetheless I was in awe. Professor Gabriel!

We drew faces on the outer flaps representing four main emotions: happy, sad, angry, scared. Then we wrote those words on the inside of the flaps. It was craziness, getting all the kids to that point, and Gabriel got more than a little flustered trying to lead this ambitious, valiant effort.

Finally, just before our time was up, we were able to practice playing with them. This is what you do: hold it out to your friend and ask her to pick a number between 1 and 10. Then alternate the flaps till you hit that number; invite her to lift one, and see what feeling it is. Sad? Tell a story about a time you were sad. Angry? Tell about the last time you were really angry. Then switch.

Simple! A feeling teller. You use it to tell about your feelings. Thanks, Professor Gabriel.

fairy stick

On another evening, I might be inclined to divulge to you - at length, as I am wont to do - the tender stories running through my heart just now. How I cried at the dinner table during a recent tantrum. How I am in the midst of saying goodbye to twenty-one extraordinary clients this week (twenty-one termination sessions! I mean, really.). How our fast-approaching Grand Adventure is feeling mostly hard and not very exciting at the moment. (And how I can't admit that because I feel obligated to carry the positive torch around here. Somehow has to, right?). How I love the feel of everyone else's babies at Gabriel's baseball games, pulling up on my legs and wrapping their sweet bare arms around my neck.

And oh, it probably goes without saying: how the delight I take in the babies in my life has a faint yet unmistakable bittersweet edge.

Rather than examine those raw-edged transitions, let us instead turn our attention to the Fairy Stick.

Beatrice named it. A few mornings ago we had an extra hour together before I went to work and so we invented a magical instrument. Does it call the fairies out of hiding and draw them towards you? Does it impart the kind of magic a fairy possesses upon its owner? Does it turn its owner into an actual fairy? Unclear. But it definitely works.

All you need is a wand-length stick. Then you pull out your favorite yarn and wrap, wrap wrap it all up. Tie some loose ends at the end. Voila! Fairy magic is within your grasp. You can even use it on your own mother.

Beatrice brought it to her sitter Danielle's house, along with supplies for Jolie and Kaya to make their own fairy sticks. What a sight, to pick her up after work and see the three girls spreading all that fairy magic around on the front lawn!