National Lemonade Stand Day, didn’t you know? A sweet, dear friend of mine has two entrepreneurial girls (circa 8 and 6) who had a pretty amazing lemonade stand that we just had to go visit. They live in a little beach town, just on the edge of the bustling, tourist filled down town area. Prime real estate. And they were offering accouterments such as strawberries, blueberries, mint and basil. Delish.
The babies got to meet for the second time, though the first time that our babe was able to register that this other person his size was there. She’s about 5 months older than ours and the size disparity was not as noticeable as I expected. Girl babies are typically smaller in stature, right? No matter, both are healthy, nursing wee nuggets and their difference in age will shrink to imperceptibility in a couple years anyway. It does cause me to pause and wonder exactly how gigantic our baby is, but since he continues to wear his normal baby clothes and we’ve yet to have a Hulk moment, we’ll just keep on keepin’ on.
The morning was stupendous with my two eldest able to hang out with her two eldest for the first time. Things went smashingly well, though we weren’t really there long enough for anything to implode. It was fascinating watching them first play with the other who was closest in age, then to switch playmates for other. Seamless. Kids are fantastic, I wish I was as easy for grown ups to get along.
Things deteriorated when we got home and the Eldest of the Eldest refused the offered nourishment and stomped off. I initiated a battle of wills a short time later when there was a clear reason for him to spend some time in the bathroom and the rest of the afternoon went rapidly down hill from there. In all it was not some of my finer parenting (which happens when he pushes those buttons for 20, 30, 40, 50 minutes in a row – I start to run out of ideas on how to deal), but when things had settled to a dull hum, I had a small “aha” moment. He’d pulled himself together enough to function and the grown ups were making dinner. He wandered into the kitchen and I found myself with patience, still. And I thought, this moment here defines that I am in fact a decent parent. The previous two hours had been a relentless sort of hell that lately seems to be happening all too often. But in the end I still had genuine patience for him and my love for him was unwavering and he knew it.
All in a days work.