Thursday, April 16, 2009


Today Pebbles really got the hang of blowing soap bubbles all by herself -- dipping the wand into the bottle of solution she got in her Easter basket and producing bubbles without any help. She wanted to do nothing else, which was fine with me. While I made dinner this evening Nutmeg flitted here and there, but Pebbles sat pat on the sidewalk and blew those bubbles.
It was all quite peaceful and I was thanking the sun for coming back and showing me what it will be like in summer when we have this big extra room to our house, the back yard. Then Pebbles exploded in howls, which happens several times an hour these days.
Turns out Nutmeg had taken the cap to the bottle and poured some bubble solution in there for her own nefarious purposes. Wanted to make up a potion in her watering can, I think. I ordered Nutmeg to give Pebbles back her bubble bottle and cap, she did, and I went back to cooking, thinking all would be well.
More howls. Pebbles sat on the sidewalk in a big puddle of liquid soap, pouring the last of it into the bottle cap. At almost 5, Nutmeg has the skill to pour just a capful; Pebbles had turned the bottle upside down and spilled it all over the place trying to copy her. And then she was howling again because the bubbles were all gone. And yelling about her need to "blow mo' bubbas," until I had to carry her into the house lest some neighbor call the cops or the circus.
Usually when my kids cry I'm all like, "Yeah, cry me a river. I've heard it all." But today I felt really bad for Pebbles. Cause I knew it's not the last time she will be her own undoing, nor the last time she will crash up against her own limitations while running like heck to keep up with others. Do we ever figure out, when we've ended our own party and are sitting in a mess, that we do it to ourselves?
Also I was sad because now I have to buy mo' bubbas.

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