Last chance

Don't miss 20% off savings in my shop! The sale ends tonight.

I couldn't be more content as I type this, because napping on my lap is this little baby sweetie:



Her name is Starbuck.

Gertrude, who is not yet a Battlestar Galactica fan, keeps asking what she can call the kitty.

"Starbuck," says Gary. "That's her name."

"Can I call her Ruby?" says Gert.

"No. You can call her Starbuck."

"I think I'll call her Hopscotch," says Gert.

"Um, that's not her name either."

I think she's having a hard time not being the one who named the small furry things in the house.

Matilda, on the other hand, who is ordinarily completely indifferent to the animals (because they're not her boyfriend. She's indifferent to everything that's not her boyfriend) is head over heels in love with the kitten. It's really sweet.

Mmm. Kitty love!

Skirts and 'blades

Matilda and I went up to school last night to pick up her straight-A's report card and gaze admiringly at a few of her paintings hanging around school in the school art show.

After the requisite gazing time, I announced, "Come on, sister. Let's go buy you an "A" Present!"

The "A" Present in our house is a little educational incentive that is sometimes paid out in cash per A, or plunked down as a lump purchase on a toy or gizmo. PS, I know there's debate about whether paying for grades is correct parenting or not, but when you have a child who happily does homework on Saturday mornings and busily works ahead through all her extra challenge work, you've really got to show your approval of that somehow.

For us, last night, that meant rollerblades.

And as Matilda was trying on every single pair in the local Sports Authority, she told me she thought it was funny that I called her "sister."

Because, she went on, the other day her teacher had asked Matilda if I was her mother... or her sister.

And so that is why I spontaneously purchased a pair of youthful, though somewhat unreasonably expensive, roller blades for myself, as well.

And it also explains why I went out at lunch today and brought home an armload of youthful, ivory cotton gauze with which I will sew myself breezy, youthful skirts and sundresses.

I might just rollerblade past you in a gauzy sundress! Because that makes no sense!

Recipe for a Friend

The other day, Matilda and Gert walked past me, each carrying a teaspoon of something white and granular.

"What, are we freebasing now?" I said.

Matilda explained, "It's sugar. I'm going to help Gert make an imaginary friend."

So this intrigued me, and I followed them to the hall bathroom where Gert's older sister told her to stand in the corner and pay attention.

Matilda began the demonstration.

"The first thing you have to do," she said in her teacher voice, "is stand in front of the mirror and close your eyes, and imagine what you want your friend to look like." She squeezed her own eyes shut and imagined for a moment. "Really see her, what color her eyes are, what color hair she has, what she's wearing."

I glanced over at Gert in the corner, holding her spoon tightly and grinning excitedly, her eyes glued to her sister.

"Then," said Matilda, her eyes popping open, "you cast your sugar into the sink!" She sprinkled the contents of the spoon into the basin. "Then you spin around three times and say your friend's name to summon her!"

Too much Harry Potter in my house? Never.

"Then," said Matilda when she'd finished whirling, "turn on the water, and when the sugar's all washed away, you look into the mirror, and there you'll see her! But only you can see her. And only if you believe."

"OH!" shouted Gert with profound delight. "My turn!" She all but shoved Matilda away from the sink, scattering sugar over the bathroom tile.

Some time later, I looked up from my knitting to see Gert parading past, clearly leading an army of the imaginary behind her.

"We're going to go play school," Gert told me.

"Oh, okay," I said. "Who is?"

"Me and Emily and Mylie."

If this was Matilda's way of shrugging off her little five-year-old shadow for a few hours and having some personal Gameboy time, that girl is freaking brilliant.