If you talk to anyone in our family, prepare to hear the saga of Mary finding the tiny duckling under our trampoline Saturday afternoon. And don’t be surprised when we shift into gooey baby talk– because, seriously, have you ever seen a baby duckling race across the kitchen floor? The way they half run, half fly and peep louder and louder as they pick up speed? Erik’s more enamored than anyone else and races to our bathtub (where we are now housing four chicks and a duckling) to coo and chirp and ask, “How was your day, Clementine? Are you happy? Did you get enough to eat? Want to go for a run?”
Despite Clementine’s obvious charms, the highlights of Mother’s Day were early morning phone calls from Jerusalem and Skyping with Stefan in Kurgan, Russia. It wasn’t a great connection– as you can see by the screen shot– but hearing his voice, watching his face break into a smile and laughing together is a rare pleasure. One of my favorite moments was his Russian companion pushing has face in front of the screen to say, “You have the best son in the whole world! We all love him.”
Stefan’s first question for us was, “Is Mary still a little girl?”
I answered, “She’s sitting in my lap wearing a princess nightgown and holding a duckling; she’s still a little girl.” A little girl who rollerblades through our kitchen.
And from Ben and his friends in Jerusalem. But I get to talk to Ben all the time (or send him random texts or emails)– and I must say it’s much better than Skyping twice a year. At midnight “Mom, what’s the name of that book you really love by the Jewish author with the really lame cover?”
“The Ladies Auxiliary by Tova Mirvis. Don’t be fooled by the lame title. You’ll love it.”
After years of feeling disappointed that my family doesn’t buy Mother’s Day gifts I’ve stumbled upon the secret– be slightly demanding. I’ve always said, “Oh no, you don’t need to get me anything.” while secretly hoping their love for me would override my protestations. And you know.. all that insecurity…. I’m not really worth it…
but I realized, I’m not simply asking for gifts and attention for myself, I’m training five future husbands to make an effort for their wives. I don’t want the mothers of my grandchildren to feel unappreciated or unloved. I told them I didn’t care what they bought or made or wrote… just do something.
But I did need LOTS of help putting the Legos together (while I don’t need any help with the chocolate, thanks).
a post-church photo (note baby Clementine in Xander’s hand)
This feels like a good time for a chick update. They’re going through their awkward stage. Don’t make fun. Well, you can if you want. We’re counting the days until we can move them out of our tub and into the yard.