There are moments in a mother’s life that she wishes to preserve for all eternity and today we experienced one. This, my friends, is what went down in my house: my child did the dishes. But wait, there’s more. She heard my brief lecture—something about not being able to play right now because there was junk all over the house and I had to put it all away first—and then responded by washing our dishes and scrubbing the sinks. Seriously. She did that without me asking! It was remarkable and precious and thoughtful and so helpful, so so helpful. While she was doing the dishes, I put toys away, dusted, wiped down surfaces, and took out the trash. Awesome.

**Lest you be tempted to look over at your kid who fought you tooth and nail today when you asked him to merely brush his own teeth, take a deep breath. Don’t compare. I realize that sharing good news invites comparisons. For instance, my awesome sister-in-law reports that my niece, age 5, is tying her shoes. My reaction was this: Am I supposed to teach my child to tie her shoes? Whoops! Today dishes, tomorrow shoes, I suppose. ;)

Cutting Daddy’s hair required lots of concentration. Most of the time his face was quite zen-like as his girls buzzed around his head and, well, pretty much buzzed his head.

Only once did things get a bit hairy. Pun intended.

I’ve eaten many a Rudolph candy cane, but for the first time in my 34 years, tonight I made some. With my faithful 1st grader at my side handily glue-dotting red pom poms, I pasted googly eyes like the non-pro I am. The eyes slide down to the red noses while we twisted antlers atop the heads. It was fun. It was classic. It was a Christmas craft.

DPP moment #19.

A pirate’s gotta do what a pirate’s gotta do. And sometimes a pirate needs to sit in her pink comfy chair and sharpen a pencil. Don’t question it—just go with it.

I keep meaning to write about the internal changes (within me) that occurred due to other internal changes (within the house). In prepping our house for sale, we threw a lot of stuff away. A lot. Some of you know just how much stuff we had acquired over the past 10 years because you help me spend hours upon hours sorting and throwing and donating. I am grateful for all that help! I feel so liberated by getting rid of the piles and boxes and stuffed closetfuls that owned me. Because I was just a few steps away from being cast on Hoarders, I didn’t know what I had and where it was. That Modge Podge that I know I picked up recently? Could be in the craft armoire. Could be in the craft boxes in the basement. Could be in the bottom drawer of the bureau I never use. Go figure. I hated that. And now I feel so free from it.

Tonight, my pirate and I prepped her room for new Christmas toys. It’s taken seven years, my friends, but the day has finally come where Livia wants to let other kids love on a few toys and babies. We organized four bags for the City Mission, one bag of dress up clothes for a little friend, and one super heavy bag that went straight for the trash. For the first time ever, I feel prepared to let new toys enter our house. Yay!

Livia, age 7, receiving some fatherly instruction at dinner tonight.

Nothing says Yuletide quite like an arm fart. At least, nothing says Yuletide like an arm fart when you’re seven years old. I’m going to have to whip out my camera faster and in a stealthy ninja-like style if I want to capture Livia in a candid moment. She went from placing an ornament on her little tree (ah, such a classic moment) to mugging for my camera to arm farts. Such is life in the Tredway household in 2011.

We had a really fun day yesterday. Livia has been brandishing her cutlass—“It’s a cutlass, not a rapier,” she explained to me—and donning the pirate earring and eye patch for a few weeks now. She has such a strong imagination that she got lost in her girl pirate role, explaining to someone, I can’t recall who, that she really was Livia and not a pirate. Our friends the Littles hosted a party for some school friends and it was a great time. This is the first year I’ve pulled out my camera to document the celebration! Normally I’m running from place to place, in the dark, with my costumed child.

It was also a fun day because I got to make cupcakes for Livia’s classroom. My inspiration photo shows a spider cupcake with nicely curved black legs. I learned quickly that perfectionists do not good classroom mothers make, and settled on red legs that poked out kinda straight. And then, because my child is a self-proclaimed entomologist, I told the first-graders that spiders have eight legs and the cupcakes have six. Spider mite cupcakes, perhaps?

I hope my friends had Happy Halloweens as well. Now, it’s on to November. November!! Before you know it, Christmas will be here.

Livia sat at the dining table for well over two hours, carving her little pumpkin.

If Pumpkin Carving were a class, the progress report would read:
Design: A+
Completion: A+
Use of Time: A+
Study Habits: A+

And at the bottom a note would say: Livia works well in class. She pays attention and uses tools (even sharp saws!) correctly. She asks for help when she needs to, then gets right back to work with remarkable focus. I enjoy having Livia in my Pumpkin Carving class. She is a delight.

Everyone says strong-willed kids make great adults, that their strong wills serve them well in the future. So today, as my child made Livia’s Last Stand prior to walking in the school door, I’m trying to envision what her future will look like. Will there be that After School Special moment on the empty football field where some druggie offers 15 year old Livia a joint and she, in all her strong-willedness, just says no? Will she be a future Condoleeza or Hillary and stand eye-to-eye with a communist general, declaring, again in her strong-willedness, that for the sake of her country she will not back down? Will she, in that future world that fundamentalist Christians like to imagine, declare that she will not denounce her faith in Christ before a judge and jury of her peers? People, one of these scenarios had better play out or else I’m telling you that this strong-willed kid stuff is for the birds!

There are some stinky, dirty, slinky cats that live near Livia’s school. In the beginning of the school year I broke my “no petting cats without collars” rule and let Livia caress and hug and do her Cat Whisperer thing with these felines. I had met their owners and had seen how all the school kids adore the cats and against my better judgment I opened the door to a routine that would eventually torture me.

However, because I am a 33 year old woman and thereby wiser than my child, I started to avoid the sidewalks by the cat house and thus avoided the time required for cat coaxing and cat petting prior to the school day. So guess who forgot to be wise this morning? And guess who made her Last Stand on the corner of the cat house?

Scene: School bell rings, school children enter the building. One adorably-dressed little girl is stubbornly standing on the corner. One woman, looking like she’s rolled out of bed and is wearing the same clothes for three days straight, seeks to regain control.

Bus driver looks on from his perch inside the yellow bus. Para-educators nearby offer small smiles as the duo eventually walks past. Well, the walking is questionable. It is stop-and-go there for awhile; stubborn child demanding to pet cats while haggard mom says no repeatedly. A little arguing takes place. Stubborn child refuses her mother’s hand. Stubborn child eventually has to go to the office for a tardy slip. Mother’s eyes start to do the crazy dance, and the hand-off, an apologetic one to teacher in the classroom door, takes place.

Control. Where was it and who had it?

Though I felt like I lost the battle this morning, I actually won it. No one died on the corner by the cat house. No one yelled, no one pulled, no one cried (though I kind of felt like it after our war of wills was complete). My strong-willed first grader not only did not get to pet the [smelly] cats this morning, she will have to earn the opportunity to do so again.

Oh my friends, parenthood is far more challenging than I ever imagined. It offers up the most ridiculous moments and challenges. I write so I won’t forget these absurd times—and so I can remind Livia to stay strong when she’s dealing with her own strong-willed child someday. We’re going to laugh about this, right? Right?

Walking home with a camera and a first-grader in hand, colors on the trees, eyes to see and art to explore. Life is good.