June

We tried new foods.
We found a lot of baby spiders on our slide.

We watched plants grow.

We attended the last day of the first year of preschool.

We slept a little.

But mostly we were awake.

We rode a train.

We bounced.

We said goodbye to one beloved teacher.

And "see you next fall" to another.

We balanced.

We colored pictures.

We made special gifts for special people.

We made silly faces.

We played with balloons.

We rode tricycles.

We played school.

We played with cousins.

We went to VBS.

We learned to sit up and stay that way.

We were attacked by flamingos.

We were cute.

We resurrected a rose.

We learned to crawl.

July: Bring it on! We're ready.

Weird.

It's Tuesday night. Both girls are asleep. My husband isn't due home for another ten minutes. I'm sitting in the living room...alone. Weird.

Car door.

Well, it was a weird five minutes.

Signs of Summer

Today

Today my sweet husband took care of our girls while I slept in after a rough night with restless children. He does this frequently. I am blessed.

Today I made two cups of coffee and drank one.

Today my family attended the annual Easter Egg Hunt at our church.

Today I watched as a life was saved. A man, a friend's father, had a heart attack. Right there, seated a few seats away from us, as we watched a yo-yo artist perform. I watched as two women, nurses, there with their families, started CPR, courageously and systematically kept him alive until paramedics arrived. He was not breathing. He had no pulse. I saw people rally to care for the children, mine and my friend's; to call 911; to clear the hundreds of chairs from the room; to pray. I saw the paramedics work with amazing skill and presence of mind for what seemed like an eternity, performing horrible, sickening, life-saving procedures. I saw my dear friend fall apart. And all I could do was hold her hand. I saw a group of people - friends, strangers, my husband - who drew upon a strength of compassion that transcended the helplessness of horror to do what needed to be done. I heard a lead paramedic whisper to his crew, "Just sixty more seconds". And within those last sixty seconds, we all heard, "They got a pulse."

I don't know what will happen next. I don't know whether the man will survive the aftermath of this attack, but I know that he survived this afternoon, and that he survived because of courage and compassion. I wish I had something profound to say about it, some epiphany. I don't. I have raw emotion and confusion and wonder, questions about aging, convictions about preparation and responsibility. Maybe as time goes on I will be able to glean some clear wisdom from this experience. Right now, though, I just want to pray for my friends, hold my girls, and lean on my husband (who has already had a lot of people lean on him today).

Pi(e)

photo by pauladamsmith

One day last year, my husband came home from work and happily told me about all the pies that had been consumed by his colleagues and himself that day. Said something about it being "pie day". I thought it was a good idea, a nice diversion from office life, and good for them for their creative morale-boosting efforts.

One day last year, a friend of mine invited me to a National Pie Day celebration at her home. I wasn't able to attend, but I thought it was a great idea. I mean, who doesn't like pie?

Last week my husband lamented aloud the fact that he wouldn't be able to visit his old colleagues (having since left that job) during their pie fest, because the day falls on a Saturday this year. Bummer.

Today I saw a note my husband had written, indicating that he was trying to decide what kind of pi to make on Saturday. I asked if he meant to spell it that way. He said yes.

My friend is a pastry chef. (And may I encourage you, if you have not done so already, to find yourself a friend who is a pastry chef. They're just good people to know. Like mechanics, only their work areas smell a lot better.) She celebrates National Pie Day.

My husband is an engineer. He celebrates Pi Day, which is of course on March 14.

It all makes sense now. Either way, there's pi(e).

All in the family

I try not to publicize my kids' names all over the Internet, but for those of you who know us personally and already know their names, I thought I'd share an interesting tidbit. We chose the spelling of our youngest daughter's name because we liked it - nothing particularly spectacular there. We've already taken some heat for it, too. At a routine lab visit, the registration coordinator who was doing our intake gave me an annoyed look and said, "Any other weird spellings I should know about?" Thanks, lady.

On to the cool part.

We recently discovered that Andy's great-grandmother's middle name is the same as our daughter's first name - and it's even spelled the same way. We had no idea. Cool, huh?

Not on our watch.

"...researchers have focused on the influence of the social environment on children's math and science achievement. Very early on, boys are given the chance to tinker with toys or objects (for example, building blocks, Legos, racing cars, and simple machines) that involve many of the principles inherent in math and science. Girls often lack these experiences, so they enter math and science classrooms feeling insecure about their abilities. Girls then begin to believe they cannot do math and science as well as boys."*

* Reprinted with permission from the National Network for Child Care - NNCC. Jovanovic, J. and Dreves, C. (1995). Math, science, and girls: Can we close the gender gap?. In Todd, C.M. (Ed.)., *School-age connections*, 5(2), Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Cooperative Extension Service.