A few days ago, Livia told me that I’m very smart, “like a robot with a brain in it.” That’s not exactly how I’d describe myself… but I’ll take it!

It reminds of the this conversation I recorded some time ago…

Liv: Mom, I love you. You’re great! You’re kinda like a servant.
Me: Aw thanks. I kind of am!

And finally, the line that earned her a trip to college and a pony:

Livia: Mom, you have skinny legs.

The End.

Plucked from a pot of herbs, Scrubby became a household pet for a brief time. With the help of Google, we learned Scrubby was a Papilio polyxene who liked to eat parsley, among other things.

For four days, Livia carried Scrubby’s jar to her room during quiet time. She would sit in her room for an hour, quietly letting the caterpillar climb all over her hands and arms. I was pretty sure that such frequent handling of the insect would prevent him from turning into a butterfly, but I was wrong.

Scrubby began to do what he was made to do. He had a really odd poop, climbed onto a twig, strapped himself in with one strand of silky thread, then stayed still for about 24 hours straight. I went away to a mini-retreat at church and came home to a green chrysalis. Livia said Jeremy kept looking at the jar and only seeing leaves and that she was the one to point out Scrubby’s chrysalis.

For 11 days, we kept vigil by the side of the jar. Towards the end of the time, Scrubby’s chrysalis turned grey, then one night it was almost black—apparently the chrysalis becomes transparent before the butterfly emerges.

We awoke on a Tuesday morning and Scrubby was no longer his green striped chubby caterpillar self; he was a glorious Black Swallowtail butterfly. Livia wasn’t home at the time, so I took the jar, with its transformed inhabitant, and picked her up from my mom’s house. Liv’s jaw almost hit the floor when she saw Scrubby—it was awesome. She chose to release her winged friend and he was last seen testing out his new wings over the lake in my mom’s backyard.

I was surprised by how fascinated I was at Scrubby’s transformation. I knew Livia would love it, but really, I loved the whole experience too. I’m amazed at how God created such an interesting life cycle for this fat little caterpillar. The Master Artist clearly spared no detail in his creation.

There are always more dishes to wash. And don’t get me started on the never-ending laundry piles. There’s always another blog post to read, another email to reply to, another task to check of my list of things-to-do. There’s always another chapter in the good book I finally got into, and there’s always something that catches my eye on Netflix.

But for Pete’s sake, it’s summer. And sometimes you’ve got to get out of the house.

A few days ago Livia and I wandered through our local rose garden and we both snapped pictures of what interested us. Liv took off her shoes and dipped her toes in the gorgeous and cool fountain. She left watery footprints on the hot sidewalk and meandered with me through the rose bushes.

I can get completely caught up in the mundane activities of my life and need these Rose Garden moments to give me breath and joy again. Thank God for a six-year-old who holds my hand and explores with me.

My girl loves to paint. I think I’ve said this before, but she’d roll her whole body in paint if I let her. (New summer activity perhaps?) If I give up my timetable, and my desire for cleanliness, and my pursuit of easy, simple activities, then painting, Liv’s choice, is perfect. Why is it so hard to do that as a mother? To set aside my own interests in order to do something my child absolutely adores?

Friday was a relax-at-home kind of day and painting fit the bill for afternoon entertainment. I opened the craft cupboard and there garage sale picture frames sat, looking all boring in their wood frames. An hour later they were coated in orange, teal and a glorious hodge-podge of colors, the last precisely replicated on Livia’s ten fingers.

I always thought I’d be *that* mom who did cool things for her kid’s class, cool things like go on field trips. Yet I must confess that the idea of going on field trips with preschoolers (much less volunteering in their classroom) sounded pretty awful. I am profoundly grateful for the awesome women who teach my child’s class—God bless ’em—they are some kind of special.

After the first field trip this year, Livia caught on and realized that other mommies drove them to the destinations. And she wanted her mom to do it, too. So, on this last field trip of the year, on Livia’s birthday no less, I joined the kids.

And I had fun. Imagine that.

It was Liv’s birthday and the destination was the Pioneers Park Nature Center. Totally fitting for my nature kid! Despite the fact it was cold and really windy, the class had a great time and I had fun getting to know her classmates a bit better.

Kindergarten field trips, here we come.

Today is a banner day.

My child can [drumroll, please] read. Read! R-E-A-D, READ!!!

Though I love words, they are failing me now as I’m having difficulty describing how much it means to me that Livia is starting to read. Really, the whole thing blows my mind.

We’ve been reading to this kiddo since she was placed in our arms and we’ve never stopped. I signed her up for the library’s summer reading program before she even cared about it and I read competitively to her that season. (And the next year, too. Silly competitive book-lovin’ mama.) Only recently has Livia taken to flipping through books on her own; she wasn’t really the kind of baby who simply adored books. She did read her first word at 3.5 years: b-o-o-k. And we were ecstatic over that.

I ordered the Bob books from Scholastic recently and we cracked them open today. Well, guess who is ready to read? My kid. My five-almost-six year old. Sounding out words, stringing letters together, remembering the new words and reading them correctly the second time around.

Sheer awesomeness. It’s a whole new world.

One more thing. Livia and I wrote our own story—and she read it at least five times today. Here it is. And, sheerly for purposes of geographical translation, “pop” means “Coke” to all you Southerners. ; )

I want a day off.

No pouring drinks or cereal. No officiating between dog and child. No finding clothes for other people.

Yes to sleep—lots of sleep—and a good book and the internet and maybe a little shopping. A definite yes to the carton of Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer.

Yep, I am feeling selfish today. And I’m not quite sure how to get over myself. Such is life. You do what you’ve got to do.

For now, I need to love on my kiddo a bit. A good hug is helpful for everyone.

I walked into Livia’s room yesterday to liberate her from quiet time, and there she was, on her bed, fully clothed and now also in her robe and slippers. She was intently involved in placing important items into a little denim purse. First, the plastic Wubbzy characters, then a tiny pad of paper and two pennies. Evidence of play was scattered around her room. She had obviously done some shopping as her little red shopping cart had been pulled from the closet and it looked like the stroller had been employed as well.

This, this type of scene, I adore. While I oftentimes have no idea what Livia is thinking, I can see the effects of her active imagination. Why the robe? Why the slippers? And where did she unearth that denim purse? I don’t know, but I love witnessing it.

Jeremy bought flowers for both of his girls last night and Liv’s response was sheer joy. It was something else, we’ve never seen her so giddy. She kept talking and talking and talking—to the woman buying flowers next to us, to the cashier, to Jeremy and me. She said something to Jeremy like, “I know that you very loved me!” and gushed joyous proclamations left and right. And here we thought her love language was physical affection! It was so fun.

It’s good for me to look at happy images this evening because today has been rough. Livia has pneumonia, just a slight case, but her cough is waking her up very early in the morning and keeping her up way too late at night. Already a spirited personality, Liv becomes almost unmanageable on too little sleep. It’s hard to keep nursing your little one when you feel like you just need a break from not only the incessant coughing but also the unbelievably bad behavior. And oh my goodness, that kid got on every nerve tonight.

But finally, she’s asleep. Dear Jesus, let the medicines do their thing tonight. And, in the meantime, let me be refreshed by the beautiful gerber daisies on my dining room table. (Thanks, sweetie.)

Jeremy and Liv are either playing the Stare Game or they’re cuddling. Whatever they’re doing, I’m in favor of it.