Yesterday my daughter told me there was chicken in her butt - and she had no idea how it got there - and neither did I since we didn't have chicken that day. I didn't bother to look, I just assumed it was one of the many interesting comments she says in a day. I am constantly amazed at what comes out of her mouth and what she can get in to. This child is active 24/7 to the point where after swim class this man once said "Ma'am, I don't know if you have any boys but if you don't, that's your little boy right there."
I mean she jumps, she flips, she spins and I'm sitting there thinking, I am in my forties dealing with this - what in the world? She is up at 6:30 on weekends and if we let her, she'd stay up all night. She craves independence and kept telling my sister on a recent visit that if she was "a monkey and not a people" she'd be free to do what she wants and not have to listen to people telling her what to do. When I hold her hand she says I hold it too tight, when she dresses herself it typically includes seven skirts on her head - a pair of shorts, lipstick and boots and I'm thinking what in the hell will she be like as a teenager.
I spend my time running behind her picking up items of clothes, putting furniture back in place and being grateful that I can still cartwheel, hula hoop and jump rope - all things I have to pull out of my arsenal occasionally. At any moment I have to be prepared to run, jump, hide - whatever is required. Last week I played a serious game of tag with her and some friends she made on the playground while their much younger parents just sat there in amusement. I'm realizing I actually have more energy than some of the younger moms. Once I climbed to the top of a three story tree house with my daughter and a young mother congratulated me for being able to make the climb! Did she expect me to need oxygen at some point?
I actually think I'm healthier than when I was younger. Waking up to an alarm clock everyday for the first time in 20 years so my daughter can make the school bus is daunting, but it gets me up and running and or jumping rope the minute the bus door closes. I can now run four miles easily - and I hate running, and jump six sets of 500 in less than 30 minutes. Last year when I drove my daughter to school, I got back into the habit of going to a gym on a regular basis as I needed to kill time until her half day pick-up. So for all of the lunacy I am in better shape for it.
But my daughter will still throw amazing zingers to knock me off my horse - like the time she cried when she realized daddy wasn't home, Mommy can't cook and she wondered who was going to feed her. Or when she simply yelled "I hate your work" when she saw me packing to go out of town. Yes kids have a way of knocking you back down to reality, but their honesty and clarity is refreshing and honestly, I wish more people had it.
So this week I expect to continue chasing after my mad-hatter, exercising to insure I'm up to the task, praying Larry gets home in time to make dinner and at some point, I am sure, find out just where that piece of chicken landed.
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