July 20, Lunchtime

*Isobel is watching Wile E. Coyote cartoons on her iPad during lunch today, and I mention to her that he was my very favorite of all the Bugs Bunny characters- it was always such a treat for me when the Coyote and Road Runner cartoons came on, since you never knew exactly what would be shown during the Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies show on Saturday mornings when I was a kid. Especially since they were only on once a week… Anyway, we were talking about Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner when…*

“Mommy, who would you vote for, Coyote or Road Runner?”
“What, you mean to win?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’d vote for the Coyote.”
“What, why? I’d vote for the Road Runner!”
“But the Road Runner always wins. And everybody votes for the Road Runner. So I want Wile E. Coyote to win. He’s my favorite, anyway.”

*Is thinks about this for a minute. And then she nails me with her impeccable logic.*

“But, he wants to EAT the Road Runner.”
“Yes.”
“But if Wile E. Coyote wins, he would be the only character left.”
“Huh. I guess you’re right. I never thought about it that way before.”
“That wouldn’t be any fun, Mom.”
“You got me there, kid.”

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July 6, 2017, Bedtime

*Every night, right after I put Is to bed, we each pick three things that are fun to think about (so she’ll hopefully have good dreams), and say them on the monitor after final hugs & kisses…*

“Mommy! I’m first. Okay… playing Barbies today!”
“Nice. Um… how about your long, relaxing bath?”
“That was sooooo good! Making the car art at Rec today!”
“It is a fabulous car. Picking out your bracelet at the store.”
“Yes! Eating sorbet!”
“How about earlier today, when you told me that when you’re an astronaut, and you’ll be the first girl on the moon?”
“I love that one, Mommy. I’m going to have the best dreams ever.”

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June 28, 2017, first thing in the morning

*I’ve decided to go to college. It’s a bit weird, as I’m 48, but I guess there’s no time like the present? Anyway, this morning I was telling Dave how I scored on the practice Accuplacer tests I took last night, while Isobel was playing on the floor with her Hello Kitty stuff nearby…*

Me: “So, I got 100 percent on the reading comprehension, and 100 percent on the sentence structure… but twenty-seven percent on elementary algebra.”
Him: “Well, you knew you’d have trouble with that.”
Me: “Yeah…”
Isobel: “Mommy, what’s that, elementary algebra?”
Me: “It’s the math with the letters in it that makes me cry.”
Is: “Don’t worry, Mommy, I’ll help you! Do you know what four plus four is?”
Me: “Aw, thanks, Is! Yes, is it eight?”
Is: “Yes! Okay, what’s X plus X?”
Me: …
Dave: “You’re scaring mom…”
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June 18, 2017 *Father’s Day*

*We’re at the in-law’s for Father’s Day- after an afternoon of playing in the yard, Is runs in to use the bathroom and asks me to join her…*

“Just for a minute, Is, then you’re on your own…”
“I have to poo, though…”
“Yep, you can do that by yourself, babe, okay, I’m out.”
“No, stay! It’s Father’s Day! This is what YOU get for Father’s Day!”
“What, poo? That’s great. Oh my god, the smell. Is, I’m leaving…”
“Happy Father’s Day, Mommy!”
“Aaagghhhhh…”

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June 9, 2017- socks again.

*At dinner, Isobel is telling Vaughan and Daddy about the magic flying socks she’s invented. Vaughan is trying to follow her story…*

“See, the socks fly off my feet, then they go down the basement stairs, then they get in the um, washer, and then they get into the dryer, and then they get all folded up nice, and fly back up the stairs, and land perfectly in my drawer! Isn’t that great?”

Vaughan gets a sort of glazed-over look and takes a sip of his drink, apparently considering the magic socks.

Dad says, “You mean Mom?”

*That’s right- I am the magic behind the socks.*

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April 25, 2017 (after a bath)

*Isobel wasn’t feeling well today- she had a stomachache and so stayed home from school. I gave her a bath after lunch, hoping it might make her feel better. She went to get dressed, and came back for me to finish drying her hair wearing a matching underwear set, a short royal blue fake fur sparkle vest, thigh high pink cheetah-print socks, and the gloves left over from her Blue Meanie Halloween costume. She was also wearing the pink beaded eyeglass chain she found at a yard sale this weekend, making her look like a tiny, eccentric librarian.*

“Hey, Is, how come you aren’t wearing pants?”

“Well… the pants fairy told me not to wear pants today.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then, we don’t want to tussle with the pants fairy.”

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March 13, 2017

*I’m cooking dinner, when…*

“Mommy, I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“Can you turn the clock to tomorrow and it’ll be tomorrow?”

“Uh, no. No, clocks only measure time, they don’t have anything to do with how time progresses. They just are helpful so you know what time it is… like I look at the clock so I know after an hour, it’s time to take the lid off the pot in the oven, and put the vegetables in, see? Or when we look at the clock every morning so we make sure you get to school on time. Time is what happens because the earth is always spinning.”

“But, what if I got a big rope to spin it faster?”

“That might work. Do you have a big rope?”

*Is goes running into the porch, where Dad is trying to finish his coffee…*

“Daddy! Can we go get a rope?”

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February 20, 2017 (dinnertime)

*I just had my other hip replaced last week. As I’m not up to cooking yet,  Dave, Isobel’s dad, made his specialty- pancakes for dinner. They were a big hit; nobody had to remind Is to eat her dinner tonight! She wolfed down three pancakes and was halfway through her second helping when… *

“I feel happiness flowing through my body.”

“That’s really nice, Is.”

“It’s the pancakes.”

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February 10, 2017 (first thing in the morning)

*Last night, past her bedtime, Isobel was beside herself- crying and upset over the possibility that she might have a bad dream. She just couldn’t settle herself and it was getting later and later. I tried to assure her that there was no reason to get upset; that if she had a bad dream she could handle it, that there was no real way to control what dreams you have, and then I gave her some suggestions of things to think about in case she did have a bad dream, so she would have something happy to put in her mind. But she was overtired, and there was no reasoning with her. When I had finally calmed her down and left her room, she fell asleep instantly.

First thing this morning, our alarms go off, Is bounces out of her room; on her way to the bathroom, she calls in to me…*

“Mommy, it was totally not worth crying and all last night. I slept and didn’t have any bad dreams!”

“Told you so.”

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