glossy face

Frances keeps on surprising me lately. She can be tough, sassy, grubby - then turn around and gush about what a great mom I am. I came up the stairs from the playroom after doing some yoga before dinner tonight and she rushed up to me and said: Mama, you look dazzling!

Well, anyone who calls me dazzling is in my favorites book. As if she wasn't already...! In any case, it sure took the edge off the most recent round of back talking.

She has been writing letters to a boy in her class. When a card from him came in the mail, I asked why he had sent it to her. Because I wrote him first, said the girl with a sly smile on her face as she ascended the stairs and shut her bedroom door behind her. You did?? I hollered after her. When? How? Without my knowledge??

She still hasn't let me see the letter he sent. I introduced myself to his mother today; she tells me he's working on a rough draft of his next letter. Of course he has been consulting with her about their correspondence all along. She couldn't believe Frances sent that first letter unbeknownst to us.

Tonight at bedtime she stroked my cheeks and grinned, gushing about how soft they are. She got silly and giggly, running her fingers along my inner arm and neck, laughing at herself, getting more and more superlative in her praise of my apparently outrageously soft skin. I told her to go to sleep already.

But Mama. Seriously.

Yes. What.

Seriously. You know how photos can be either glossy or matte? I think your skin is glossy, like a slick smooth glossy photo. Mine is matte, soft like a matte photograph.

She just knocks me off my feet sometimes. She really does.

And this one! The sensitivity remains, but we are finding a summer rhythm. As the baby gets more predictable and takes better naps, I find myself slipping back into a more creative and functional stay at home mode - baking bread, hanging laundry, long afternoons at the pool, crafting up a storm. I haven't been in this open space with kids for a long time.

We made all kinds of strawberry-laced delicacies after bringing home 10 pounds of berries from a farm last week. (I highly recommend this cake. ) The final couple of pounds went into a strawberry rhubarb compote, which Gabriel loved making (slicing rhubarb with the sharp knife was thrilling - he is five now, after all) and didn't love eating. Too tart, I think. But I loved it on yogurt and oatmeal and in smoothies too. Equal parts berries and rhubarb, about half an orange worth of juice, and all the honey we had left in the bear, which wasn't much.

And finally, you must see how my baby has transformed over the past weeks.

Good enough to eat.

Now. How is June treating you?