This morning, Annabelle chose “Color of the Day Snack.”  First, I asked her what color she’d like to for her special snack; surprisingly, she chose green (orange is her favorite color).  I thought a bit about what kind of green colored snacks we might make . . . I wanted to stay away from simply adding food coloring to a milk shake . . . it seemed too easy.  I queried friends on Facebook and received several great suggestions for green-colored snacks: green m&ms on celery with peanut butter, kiwi, grapes, green jello, green fruit roll ups, green juice, green gummy worms (eating only the green sections), green apple slices, and green eggs and ham.

After thinking about our yummy green snack ideas, I asked Annabelle what she’d like.

Me: What would you like for your green snack today?  Want green peanut m&ms on celery with peanut butter?

Annabelle: Uh-uh.

Me: Yeah? Green m&ms on celery?

Annabelle: No.

Me: Okay, green grapes?

Annabelle: No.

Me: Uh, how about we make a green smoothie?

Annabelle: Ummm . . .

Me: I know.  What about green ice cream with green gummy bears on top?

Well, you can guess how she answered (hint: see below).

Inside the ice cream shop, I let the shop owners in on our “green snack” day.  I told them we would need green gummy bears, and only green gummy bears, on our honey dew melon ice cream.   They both smiled, noted Annabelle standing beside me, and then diligently picked among the gummy bears until they’d selected just about each and every green one in the bin.  One held Annabelle’s cup while the other carefully used tongs to place the bears, as though each one had its precise spot.  It truly was a beautiful green-gummy-bear-melon cup of yum.

Annabelle had no problem digging in . . .

she savored each bite, puckering her mouth,

scooping ice cream as fast as she could, not noticing how it was melting, dripping off her spoon . . .

eating ice cream is one of those things . . . it brings us right into the moment,

but in between bites, she’d pause and ask me, “Like it Mommy?  Huh, you like it?”  I did (though mine didn’t have the gummy bears, ).

Then out of the corner of her eye, Annabelle seemed to notice something.  I too, gazing at her through my lens, noticed her noticing.  Just behind us, one of the shop workers was smiling, watching her eat her green bears and melon ice cream; when I turned and smiled, he appeared startled and pretended to be busy, wiping down the shop window.

Annabelle didn’t miss a beat, though; there were more gummy bears to chew,

and when all the gummy-gooey-goodness was devoured, she made one more request: to walk the balance beam (a cement planter rail) beside our table,

around and around she walked, balancing her way, until at last it was time to go home . . .

water is always moving: it is continually moving through cycles of evaporation, precipitation, runoff, through our homes, our gardens, our pools, our cities, and eventually will make its way to the sea . . .

water takes many forms: liquid, solid, vapor;  water, as a liquid, always takes the shape of its container, sticking to surfaces in what I wouldn’t necessarily describe in a sticky-sort-of-way but sticks until well, we wipe it away or it is absorbed . . .

and water is filled with life: all the earliest forms of life are said to have started there, fish swim there, dolphins and whales and other marine life live out their days there, amphibians spend much time there as well, as do many, many plants; plankton is said to be the foundation of the ocean’s foodchain . . .

I’m glad that our pool water probably doesn’t host too many life forms, though I always smile when I see my rambunctious two-year-old splashing her way around the kiddie pool . . .

Human civilization has historically been cradled between bodies of water; clean drinking water is crucial . . . but it is scarce: Currently, about a billion people around the world routinely drink unhealthy water.

The World Health Organization estimates that safe water could prevent 1.4 million child deaths, according to Wikipedia’s article “Water.”

water, so important, so vital to us, is also a great comfort to us too; the sound of a trickling stream, rain pitter-pattering against our window panes, or like my dear little one, the sensation of being surrounded by water and just peacefully floating within it relaxes the spirit and mind . . .

water, such a curious part of life, full of life, and said by some to be a dancing form of life, is

“the driver of life” ~Leonardo da Vinci

“a magic thing.  A magic, moving, living part of the very earth itself” ~Laura Gilpin

“H2O, hydrogen two parts, oxygen one, but  also a third thing that makes water and nobody knows what that is” ~D.H. Lawrence

“life itself . . . a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

“one substance from which the earth can conceal nothing; it sucks out its innermost secrets and brings them to our very lips” ~Jean Giraudoux

So, I ask you today, when sipping from your cup of water, what will it mean for you?

One of my husband and my favorite songs is “Daughters” by John Mayer.  For today’s post, I’ve included the lyrics to “Daughters” along with the photographs of Annabelle bathing her dolls.

“Daughters”

I know a girl she puts the color inside of my world

She’s just like a maze, where all of the walls all continually change

And I’ve done all I can to stand on the the steps, with my heart in my hands

Now I started to think maybe it’s got nothinging to do with me

Fathers be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers

So mothers be good to your daughters too

Oh, Boys you can break find out how much they can take

Boys will be strong, boys soldier on but
Boys would be gone without warmth of a womans good good heart

On behalf of every man looking out for every girl

You are the God and the weight of the world

So fathers be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers who turn into mothers

So mothers be good to your daughters too . . .

Once there though, she spotted her kick ball, and all of the sudden, taking photos and making drawings of the garden didn’t sound so appealing.   Maria Montessori has said of education, the role of teachers, and the value of the child: “The first duty of the educator, whether he is involved with the newborn infant or the older child, is to recognize the human personality of the young being and respect it.”

Annabelle wanted to kick her ball around, so we rolled the ball out into the parking lot and let the kicking begin.

It wasn’t hard to get the game going.   Mostly, it was a one girl game, which was fine by me since my speed and agility are somewhat lacking these days.

Kick,

Dash!

Get the ball!

(and keep it out from under the parked cars . . . mamma’s tummy doesn’t make her much helpful for crawling under bumpers)

One last kick and then . . .

“Ok, let’s draw!”  So for a few minutes, Annabelle watched me draw, and then she asked if she could add in the color.

Pink lines, back and forth,

See how the color moves upon the page,

and then add a bit of orange, before turning to me to proclaim, “Ta-dah!”

A few minutes later, it was time for more kick ball.  Up and down the sidewalk she ran while I sat quietly, going back to a place and time where I could remember loving to draw.

I made a few simple sketches of the zinnia, not focusing or caring too much about detail or precision, but just, like my daughter, enjoying the materials. If anything, Annabelle was teaching me to love being creative, all over again.

When at last my drawings were complete and kick ball was finished, it was time to pack up, head inside for dinner and bath, and to say goodbye to another day of “you and me.”  I wonder what we’ll do tomorrow . . .

Originally, I’d thought we’d make a banana bread, though when I asked Annabelle what she preferred . . . well, you can guess what kind of goodies my 2 year old likes . . .

Chocolate brownies were her first choice.

For our morning of baking, Annabelle decided to wear her cowgirl hat; perhaps she knew that all the mixing, melting, pouring, and waiting that goes into baking requires the wearing of a smart hat.  As the old saying goes: “Boots, chaps and cowboy hats…. nothing else matters.”

“Yee-ha!” she hollered.  “Let’s bake.”

We put out a few basic ingredients.  Annabelle was ecstatic to see butter among them . . . my little girl could eat a stick of butter.  Don’t worry.  We still haven’t let her do that (yet).

Breaking the eggs . . .

Mixing it all up and letting it all hang out . . .  What isn’t captured here are those pictures of us taking a lick, here and there, off of the mixing spoon . . .

Tick, tick, tick . . . the waiting begins.  At this point, her dad was awake and decided to take a short walk over to the mailbox.

where to our surprise and delight, we found this cute earth tee, sent to us from our friend Ruth, the Everyday Woman.  Annabelle smiled through her chocolate coated teeth and shouted, “THANK YOU!”

(We love the tee, Ruth.  Thank you so much for thinking of us.  Oh, and it’s one of Annabelle’s favorite colors: blue. )

After a little while longer, the brownies “were cooked,” as they say, and the time had come for, well, more waiting.  Annabelle and I played for a bit, and when the brownies were cooled, her dad did us the favor of cutting them and taking them out of the pan.

But since it was Independence Day and I wanted to create the perfect chocolate brownie photo op, I arranged our goodies in a star spangled basket:

Finally, the time had come for eating our brownies . . . and with all that sugar, chocolate, and yum, we had the energy to do this:

draw a chalk outlined race course through the parking lot . . . and run it,

draw a chalk outlined tracing of ourselves (this one is Annabelle),

kick and play ball,

ride our trike,

and give our photo snapping mamma a run for her money . . . yeah, that’s right, she was riding straight at me.  I think I set a speed record for a pregnant woman making her way out of the way.

At this point, I guess I could’ve used Annabelle’s cowgirl hat and hollered a good old, “Yee-ha!”

See, starting the day with a batch of brownies makes for a good day. At least that’s the way it goes in our house.

She also wanted to make sure that she, like her mamma, remembered to bring her camera.

Equipped with her camera, a pair of scissors, a bucket of water, and well, her mamma, Annabelle was ready to find wild flowers for cutting.    We decided on a patch of tiger lilies, which grow alongside our road.

At first, I cut the flowers, showing her how to hold the scissors and the stem; she’d run back and forth between where we placed our bucket of water and where the flowers grew.   Of course, within a few minutes, she was ready to search for the perfect flower.

And in between cutting our lilies, she agreed to pose for a few pictures.  I told her they were for Grandma and Nanna . . . otherwise, I’m not so sure I could’ve gotten this shot:

Back to the cutting . . .

And when all the flowers were cut, she collected our bucket and made her way back to the car . . .

At the Kidwell Farm, where the animals know us well, we sat down at a picnic table with a Mason jar, beads, fertilized water, and our cuttings.  Her dad took a few pictures of us:

Annabelle placed the lilies among the beads, I added water, and then, we decided one of the lilies would look perfect on her shirt.

At home, we set Annabelle’s table for a tea.  With a piece of old fabric for a tablecloth, her lily flower arrangement, and 2 Japanese tea cups, Annabelle was ready to sip tea with her mamma.  And, even though it was just tap water, it was, as her grandma says, “Dee-lish-us!”

Tomorrow, we’re baking a banana bread, which I think’ll go great with our tea . . . now we just need to invite a friend or two.

While I’m not so crafty as Amanda and thus didn’t sew our bag, I did put a few fun art materials together (in a canvas bag) for Annabelle and me to play with whenever we’re in places, like doctors’ offices, and we need something to do.  For our purposes, I included: several blank sketch pads, colored pencils, real drawing pencils (and charcoal too), a sharpener, crayons, stickers, a gardener’s coloring book (something I picked up for myself in my pre-kid days . . . well okay, I suppose I’ve long been a kid at heart), and a gardener’s house plant guide.

Here’s how our first sit down with our “Art on the Go” Bag went:

The first items that Annabelle noticed in the bag were the fine drawing pencils, something I’d picked up for myself a few months back, never really used, and after reading Soule, decided would be put to much better use as good art materials for my toddler.

She was fascinated by the pencil sharpener, though at first, she didn’t quite know what to do with it . . .

at this point, I asked her whether she wanted me to show her how to sharpen a pencil.  She did, so I went ahead and pulled out a color that needed sharpening; this captured her interest and from there, she wanted to sharpen all the pencils in the kit . . . every single one.

So we spent several minutes, our entire wait in fact, sharpening our pencils, which really isn’t such a bad way to pass time waiting at the doctor’s office.

When at last my name was called to meet the doctor, we packed up our supplies and made our way back to the exam room.  On the way there, Annabelle told me, “I don’t want to get any shots, okay?”  Actually, it sounded more like this: “I no want to get any shots today, k?”  I assured her that there were no shots to be had today and that we were simply going to meet her brother’s doctor (since our appointment dealt mostly with his coming birth). Annabelle responded, “My brother get shots, okay?”  and then she laughed a devious little laugh.  I shook my head and told her that it wasn’t very nice to wish shots on anyone but that yes, at some point, her brother would get his shots from this doctor.  She seemed okay with my answer and once we walked inside the exam room, this is how she looked:

We then met with our new doctor (can I just say how surprised I am by how nice he is?  Isn’t it terrible but I thought it was weird that a doctor was being so personable . . . the last time I experienced something like this was when I lived in New England and saw an old Czech doctor who once told my father he was too sweet when diagnosing him with diabetes).  Annabelle shyed away at first but by the end of the appointment she felt comfortable enough to wave at the doctor (she usually screams with panic around them) and whisper a quiet goodbye.

So, how can I wrap up this story?  Well, I could draw a couple of conclusions: 1) An “Art on the Go” bag is a wonderful outlet and distraction for children (and their moms and dads too) while waiting in waiting places, 2) Annabelle is already acting like a big sister and wishing shots on her little brother, and 3) we met a genuinely nice man who happens to be a doctor and who doesn’t scare the bejesus out of my daughter.  All and all, it was a great morning.

Thanks Amanda Soule,

At first, water painting was serious business.  Annabelle would dip her brush in her black plastic bucket and really think about what it was that she wanted to paint: In the words of Picasso, “I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them.”

And in the words of Pollock, “The painting has a life of its own.  I try to let it come through.”   I wonder whether Pollock would’ve enjoyed splattering water on a hot dry sidewalk . . .

because in a couple of seconds, the painting evaporates to the sky.  Luckily, Annabelle didn’t seem to mind collecting more water . . .

especially since wet feet and wet hands make for great sidewalk painting . . .

Picasso tells us that “painting is just another way of keeping a diary” . . .

could it also be that painting is just another way to make friends?

But perhaps Henry Ward Beecher said it best: ” Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.”

What water painting brings to (my) mind is just how transitory beauty and life can be.  In one moment, we are painting suns, star fish, hand and feet prints, trees and houses, and dogs too, and the next, our paintings are gone, we are drying off with a towel, and one more day, one more moment we will treasure, has passed.

It kind of makes me grateful for photography . . .

Annabelle insisted on carrying the bag.

Then she needed to figure out how to keep her gloves on . . .

still working on the gloves . . .

Gloves on!  Now to find some trash . . .

Found some!  In the bag it goes . . .

And that was how we spent our morning caring for the earth.  Annabelle was so excited to have picked up trash that when her dad came home, she told him all about it, and then, later that evening, while on the phone with her grandma, she proudly exclaimed, “I picked up garbage today!”  I can only imagine what my husband’s mom thinks when she hears I have my 2 year old working outside on summer days, searching for trash.  But honestly, she loves it!  Not only did she insist on holding the bag but she insisted on picking up each piece of debris we found (though I stepped in when it came to glass and cigarette butts).

I’m kind of thinking that picking up trash, which is a favorite past time of mine, could become our new thing . . . sort of like a scavenger hunt where the treasure is a cleaned up earth.  Now that’s my idea of good fun.

After we painted, it was time to clean up, which I think was Annabelle’s favorite part of mixing colors.  Cleaning up after painting outside means lots and lots of water.  In other words, it’s a good reason to get wet:

Annabelle wasn’t the only one to get wet . . .

So that was blue, yellow, and green.  I wonder what fun we’ll have with yellow, red, and orange, and then blue, red, and purple . . .