return of the bimpire: May 2013

sister stuff

Me: Do you know how much I love you?

Liv: Fifteen.

Liv to me and Bim: "Everyone in this house is loving me!"

Liv to me while snuggling at bedtime: Mom, if you want to stay you can stay. If you want to go, you can go.

{Long beat.}

Liv: Looks like you want to stay.

{Another longish pause.}

Liv: Maybe you should go.

Bim turns 35

Last year's Doctor Who theme was such a hit with Bim that I almost wanted to repeat it...but we had to try for something new. Bim's Long Beach Tour of Breakfast was fun for all of us, especially Liv, who keeps talking about how she and Dad ordered the same thing (!), banana pancakes, at our first stop. I bought gift certificates to the local breakfast spots we hadn't tried yet, and we went to a different one every week--four in all.

Another highlight of Liv's year was the bundt (or, "donut") cake we made. Two months later we are still hearing about it nearly every day. I'm not exaggerating.

Science Fair 2013: How do ocean waves form?

From the Secret Island

I've heard that brains are stimulated by the learning of new languages. Ally claims [claims] proficiency in French, piano, ballet and Boula, so I guess her brains are practically scrambled eggs by now. Never heard of Boula? Ally talks about a lot of things I've never heard of, and when I question her about these "facts," weird idioms, and bits of questionable wisdom she just dismisses me, sometimes with patient long-suffering and sometimes with total exasperation. I learned that on the secret island, she says. Discussion over.

Never mind which logical fallacy this represents. She's invented a place I have never been and can never go. If I were Parker Posey I'd throw the perfect tantrum. It would express my exact level of irritation, and powerlessness, and grudging admiration.

Pffffft!

It's fun to get a glimpse, but I'd like to get a little closer. I'd like to crack the code on how to get her through her homework in less than three hours. What drives this little person? I remember feeling competitive at her age, wanting to be the best and the fastest; trying to race everyone in the neighborhood. Trying to please. But Ally doesn't like to race and doesn't like to compete. I'm confused, but intrigued and often delighted. My daughter is not just like me--in fact, she's very unlike me in many ways. For some reason this comes as a surprise to me every time I confront it in some new way.

In at least one way we're alike: she'd rather read than do most other things. We find her nestled in little nooks of her own making--behind the couch, behind her bed, ensconced in cushions on the couch or sprawled on her tummy.

I'm not going to say I know what to do all (most) of the time. But for now I'm planning to watch, wait, and enjoy.