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.
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?)
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.
1 comment:
Hi thanks for ssharing this
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