Working, playing, leaving a legacy

I got to hang out with my favorite girl this weekend, Miss Super Spunky Drives Me Crazy Cracks Me Up and Makes My Heart Soar girl.

(Sidenote: My parents visited on Sunday and at one point Dad says to me, "You are so enamored with Clair," which is the second time someone has said that to me. [The other was my mother, come to think of it, when Clair was a tiny infant.] Is it that obvious how much I adore this girl? Do I need an intervention?)

We went to her tumbling class and then to the mall to buy a gift for a friend of mine who recently got married.

She loves this ball pit o' germs.

Introducing her to food court Asian food!

While we were out spending Mommy-Clairzee time, Lester and the boys went to learn about "flying things" at Science Alive at Masonville Cove.

Dean, wearing the wings he and Lester made, and looking like a young Sidney Poitier, who, by the way, is one of Lester's favorite actors!

Our friends Antwyne and Mari unexpectedly brought their son Antony too! So the boys had a friend to hang out with, which makes me so happy. The more friends they see having fun with science, the more likely they are to think that science is cool, right? (Or so I tell myself.)

Antony and Dean bird-watching.

Checking out a bird's nest. Mari tells me the boys were none-too-pleased that the bird wasn't considerate enough to be home while they were shaking that tree.

And on Monday, I had a day off from work because Michelle was off. So after picking the boys up from school, we all went to a playground and to lunch!

Abby and Maya came with us!

She wanted to be gently pushed without stopping, to the point where she was ever-so-slightly falling asleep in the swing. LOL.

All this great time spent with my littlest loved ones made me think that being a SAHM mom wouldn't actually be so bad, IF we could afford it. The boys are 10,000 times less crazy than they were even a year ago at this time, when I would have stabbed you in the eyes with Bobby pins if you even suggested the idea of me staying home with the children. My Monday off with them moved so smoothly -- from drop-off to pick-up to bedtime dance party, rockin' out to the Jackson 5.

I was so much more relaxed and present all day. I think that was the nicest thing -- being actually present with them, instead of running on fumes and frustration.

Being at home would also be nice, because it would be good to get to do the things *I* want to do with the children during the day, instead of hoping Michelle will do them (which, most of the time, she doesn't.)

And it would be lovely to get to spend more than two hours a day with the children I actually prayed for.

But we are committed to sending our children to private school, for many reasons (which I promise I will get to in a dedicated blog post soonest), and to giving them a life of experiences that we believe will enrich them and improve their futures. And, while we are far from wealthy, we also hope that we can do more for them financially than our parents ever could, in terms of helping them pay for school, or buy a first home. By doing so, we hope the kids as adults will be in even better positions than we are, so that their kids will be even better off coming out of the starting gate. We want to leave a legacy that maybe our grandchildren will realize -- something that happens far too infrequently in the black community, sad to say it.

So that means Momma Gotsta Go To Work. (Cue Vanessa Williams' "Work to Do.")

So I'll cram a lot of fun and Mommy-and-me time into weekends and post-work-hours during the week, and trust that a little dance partying goes a long way.

My hilarious hellraiser

I have never been parent to a little girl before, and I don't know all the little girl children who have ever lived, so I know this is a totally unscientific statement. But, hear me when I say: Clair is the craziest, funniest, most maddening human child to ever walk the Earth.

She will be 2 in a couple weeks and she has already hit the terrible 2s most terribly.

She doesn't just defy, she laughs maniacally when defying. She doesn't just refuse to unhand the thing you're telling her she can't have, she hurls it across the room like a shot putter. She doesn't ask for anything, she SCREAMS for what she wants -- ear-piercing, relentless, nerve-grating screams.
She hits. She spits. She throws her food off her plate when she's done eating. She shouts, "GOOD!BYE!" and storms out of rooms. She terrorizes her brothers and confounds her parents.

She is, quite simply, a piece. of. work.

And then...just when you have decided to pack her up and ship her to Siberia...just then she:

Befriends a little girl at her Saturday tumbling class:

Loves all up on the patient, sweet "kitty" (AKA miniature Schnauzer) at a SuperBowl party:

Climbs up at a keyboard and says, "I sing Farm, Mommy. McDonald Farm," and plunks away:

Takes pity on her poor father (this was in an email to me):

I just asked her for a kiss and she said no.

I pretended to cry and she said "Ho On, daddy. I readin. Finish. Then kiss. OK?"

I said, "OK. But how long do I have to hold on?"

"I READIN! Wait I finish. OK?"

"OK."

Then she closed the book, leaned in and gave me a kiss. Ha. She's too funny.

 

And sees God in everything around her (also in an email from Lester):

 

Showing me the football helmet stamped on her left hand:

Me: Who gave you a helmet?

Clair with a mouthful of cereal: GeeZus

Me: Jesus?

Clair: Yas.

Me: Jesus put that helmet on your hand?

Clair: Yas. GeeZus gave me Hal-mut.

Me: Well OK.

 

(Note: She got the football helmet after her tumbling class. A cheerful 20-something named Amberlee gave it to her.) 

Hahahaha! Too funny.

 

Clair never fails to lean in and hug a crying Dean, or say, "God bless you, Cary" when he sneezes. She asks, "What matter you, Mommy? You OK?" when you cough and she always shares her last bit of chauk-wit (chocolate) with anyone who asks.

She cracks us up; she makes us want to cry. She is a hilarious, heart-warming hellraiser.

I couldn't be more delighted with her -- or more afraid of the pre-teen and teenaged years.

Pray for us. :-)