We’re probably a little late, but we planted peas and facade beans
today. Like our fancy teepees?
Also on today’s agenda–cheeseburgers, on the charcoal grill (actually, the charcoal smoker, which I also use as a grill, and in part because it’s supposed to rain this week–good for seeds, bad for grilling). Everyone wanted, for some reason, to put on their own cheese. I’m thinking they may have done this at a friends’ house and I’m just not remembering. Anyway, I lifted Wyatt, and he, wincing and cautious, laid his cheese kinda on his burger. Then I lifted Rory, who took one look into the flames, and flung her cheese madly into the fire without any attempt to get it near the burgers–earning a “hey! No! What are you doing?!” from me, followed by some resentful muttering, which I tried to disguise as a teaching moment–if you don’t want to do it, ask for help–about how hard it would be to clean the cheese up, and then a refusal to let Lily even try (I was having what we call a “low-patience moment.” I’m sure you can’t imagine.)
Rory came in, sat on the house, and stared quietly into space. This is unlike her–I came in, calmed by the complete obliteration of the cheese by the fire, and saw her, and rushed to make amends–Come here, I said, come help me.
Firm shake of head.
It’s ok, honey. It wasn’t that big a deal. The cheese is gone. I want you to come choose your cheeseburger?
Instant recovery, and Rory runs to choose her burger.
She doesn’t like to be wrong, she doesn’t like to be scolded, she doesn’t want me to be mad–those are all big triggers for her, and mild as this was, she didn’t–and, I think, wouldn’t–bounce back until I’d made it all right. She might also have been trying to be funny…but for me to spot it so quickly, and offer the right remedy, and her to accept it–that felt good.
Back to the peas–Rory planted some, as did Sam and Lily–Wyatt gave the garden a pass; he had Daddy playing soccer with him and wasn’t about to give that up. The ground can be worked, as the seed packets say–we really could have done these a week or two ago, but I’m glad to get them in. The kids are ready–when will we plant corn, Wyatt demanded, when will we plant cucumbers? I am so ready for summer, and so happy that it’s spring.
KJ Dell’Antonia
sent from my iPhone