Entries in Ana (12)
Ramona, A Desk and Bullies
Ramona
Ana snuggled up on the couch this weekend and asked me, “Mama, what does ‘crestfallen’ mean?”
“Well, ‘crestfallen’ is kind of like being really sad and disappointed about something. Where did you hear that word?”
“I didn’t hear it. I read it. You know like, ‘Ramona was crestfallen.’”
The much loved copy of Ramona from my childhood was laying on the couch. Ana’s questions made much more sense now. She’s in the “advanced” track at school, but even so, none of her spelling or vocabulary words are quite so picturesque as “crestfallen.”
8 Years Old...
I am officially the mother of an 8 year old. Ana’s birthday was yesterday, and while not the grand affair she had hoped for, I think she had a good day all in all. When I married, I got a “bonus” with my stepson, Michael, but Ana ushered me into full time motherhood. She was due on Mother’s day in 2001, but fortunately for me, came a few days early, so I had her in time for my first Mother’s day. I can still remember staring at her and crying because I just knew she was the most beautiful baby in the world.
The only time in my life I’ve ever truly wanted to commit murder was because of Ana. I took her in for her 2 week appointment at the pediatrician and they, of course, wanted to draw some blood. A routine heel stick, right? No big deal. Except that Ana wasn’t bleeding, and the nurse kept stabbing her with the lancet, Ana was screaming and I seriously wanted to kill the nurse who was hurting my baby. Since then, I’ve learned to temper my mothering instincts.
Ana has grown into a beautiful young lady. As I told someone at church, I sometimes have to remind myself that she’s only 8. You can have an almost adult conversation with Ana. She likes to read (and still likes to be read to) and thus, has a pretty good vocabulary for an 8 year old. She’s a dependable girl and I know I can count on her to lend me a hand. Lately, she’s been creeping into the kitchen to help me make dinner, unasked, of course.
What I love most about Ana, though, is her great big heart. She really cares for people, animals, whoever needs love. And she’s willing to pour out that love, pretty much unconditionally. Even her little brother, with whom she can become quite exasperated, she manages to love quite thoroughly. He threatened to run away after a heated argument with Ana one day. She came to me in tears, “Mama, I don’t want David to run away.” I hope she always holds on to that God given ability to love the unlovely. The world needs more people like her right now.
Blessings!
Ana, Motherhood, Reflection 
Cold Water...
This morning, I forgot to let the water heat up in the sink before washing my face. The temperature outside was a balmy 17 degrees, so you can imagine the shock of that cold water. Ouch! I find myself doing such dumb things quite a lot lately.
Eight years ago (8 years!) when I was pregant with my daughter Ana, one of the psychiatrists and my co-worker at the Forbush School said to me, “you are now entering one of the busiest times of your life.” I remember thinking, “busy, how could this be busy? I’m going to stay home with my baby.” There is an expression out there about eating words. I wonder if it applies to thoughts as well.
Ana, Kids, Motherhood The Caterpillar relocation project, Ana rides a horse and David chases chickens
I planted many herbs this spring and actually grew some from seed with my daughter, Ana. They are all doing quite well, except for the oregano which gave up the ghost after the last huge thunder storm flooded the planter in which it was growing. The only problem I am facing right now are the caterpillars. There’s a large nest in the tree, right above my herbs. Did you know caterpillars love basil? Those little buggers are eating it up.
I go out and check on the basil several times a day. I find fuzzy little worms on the undersides of basil leaves their hair giving them away. One of them actually managed to eat half of one leaf yesterday. My only problem is that I can’t bring myself to kill the caterpillars. So I relocate them by putting them back in a tree or moving them to the wild strawberry plants that grow along our fence.
Golden Moment
Yesterday afternoon, I was nearly finished with my workout before David woke up. The light was still extinguished in is room and thus it was dark. David hung out in his crib, even though he was awake, gurgling to himself and drinking the juice I had brought for him. Soon, we heard Ana charging up the stairs to go potty. Earlier in the day, she had an accident and had refused to put her pants back on and was wearing only her underwear. She had accessorized this outfit with her fluffy snowman slippers and her legs appeared as sticks for marshmallows. I suppose her feet were cold.