Thank You, Raising Arizona (5-02; 3/2/09)

>> Wednesday, March 4, 2009

OK, yesterday's post wasn't exactly positive. While I must admit that the lack of knives during our family squabbles is, indeed, a good thing, it isn't exactly what I had in mind when I decided to write about 5 uniquely positive observations of my day. So here's Monday, again, as seen through rosier-colored glasses. (Also, the secret code in the title means this post contains five-a-day # 2 for Monday -- call me a nerd):

Monday morning, Lizzy and I looked out of my bedroom window and she observed the way the branches of our fig tree is similar to the branches of the mulberry tree (yes, ours is a mulberry tree and not a bush which would be normal and practical). Then we noticed that the fig tree now has tiny green leaves beginning to grow. I told her that the fig leaf was one of my favorites. She suggested we go into the yard, collect a bunch of leaves, tape them to pieces of paper, and then draw faces on them. Later, Lizzy, later...

The weather was surprisingly wonderful on Monday. It was get in the car, roll the windows down, put on some good music, and take a road trip wonderful. Since that wasn't feasible, I enjoyed lunch in my car, instead. The sky wasn't clear blue, which is good. I like a sky with more texture and there was a nice mix of blue and clouds.

Elizabeth's Apology Picture. She came home without a "Thumbs Up" card from school. When you don't get one, there's always a reason, and her reason was that she stuck her tongue out at her friend Amina without provocation. To apologize, I suggested she draw a picture for Amina. Here is the result:

I especially like the clearly marked characters labeled "Me" and "You." Notice the tears streaming down the supplicant's face and the upwardly spiraling hair of Amina who has the grace to say, "It's OK." Such drama. Such regret. Such forgiveness.

We all know I've been struggling a tad, domestically. It culminated Monday evening when I found myself staring into a bowl of untouched spaghetti, unable to summon the energy to lift a fork. So I mumbled I'll be back and left the kitchen to sit on my bed in the dark. Eventually I returned and ate dinner, but at some point in the evening Michael must have "had a talk" with the girls, because Samantha walked up to me later, chewing on her shirt sleeve, and suddenly blurted out, "You work so hard, mommy!" Then she threw herself into my arms, sobbing you work so hard, you work so hard over and over. (It was like the scene in Raising Arizona when Edwina blurts out, "I love him so much!" and starts sobbing...)

"What a sweetheart you are!" I said, holding her tightly. "You are such a good girl -- so thoughtful. I love you guys." We hugged for a nice, long time, sharing the love. (I did not, however, correct her statement.)

Yay! Michael, for giving props to Mama, and Yay! Samantha for appreciating me! :)

Once I was able to lift utensils, I thoroughly enjoyed one of our favorite dinners, spaghetti with tomato sauce, ground beef and mild italian sausage, alongside a salad tossed with blue cheese crumbles, balsamic vinegar and canola oil -- truly comfort food... healing food.


I'll leave you with this, one of my favorite scenes from Raising Arizona (up to 1:20) that captures the joy, hopefulness, and utter terror of parenthood:

Yes. Everything, decent and normal from here on out...


Dating Trooper March 4, 2009 at 6:48 PM  

I just want you to know that, if it were work appropriate, I would come into your cubicle, kneel down, embrace you around the waist and sob, "You work so hard on the website, Melissa! You work so hard on the website!" and mean every second of it.
But it probably feels better coming from your kid :-)

Michele March 10, 2009 at 1:20 PM  

Raising Arizona is my all-time favorite movie. And for what it's worth, I was so happy to click on the link to your blog and find that you'd been blogging behind my back for days ... I have so much reading to catch up on : )

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