Julia and Lucy had their year-end piano recital earlier this month. Everyone calls it The Cookie Recital because parents bring cookies to share after the performances which I love because baking cookies is my jam. I long for that feeling when someone chooses my cookie from the tray, takes a bite and exclaims, “Oh! These are delicious! Who made these?” (It has happened before!) Or at least finding that at the end of the event, none of my cookies are leftover? Yeah. I like that. But there was none of it this year because the glass in my (brand new!) oven door was broken by a flying step stool, so I had to take: *hangs head low and whispers* store bought cookies. Now, no one ever really knows who brought which cookies and it truly does not matter to anyone if they are homemade or store bought. As long as they aren’t poisoned or stolen, people are alright. But the shame I felt about those cookies was real. The fact that this is a ridiculous reason to feel shame makes it all the more shameful. These are the things I think about while I eat Little Debbie Salted Caramel Cookie Bars in my closet! I will tell you this, though: all of my store bought cookies were eaten.
The girls have had a great year with Ms. Winn. We love her. She is a wonderful teacher. Our hearts were broken when Mr. Palmer retired. I worried that the transition to a new teacher would be tough, but Ms. Winn made it an exciting opportunity. Julia and Lucy have made a lot of progress this year, thanks to Ms. Winn.
Lucy was the first performer at the recital. She played Long, Long Ago by Bayly and did a lovely job. She started to lose her way in the middle, but pulled it together without having to go back to the beginning or repeat a whole section which is a testament to how much she is growing musically. She has a better grasp of her music and I’m so proud of her.
Julia played Minuet in G Minor by Petzold.
She was disappointed in her performance because it was not her best. She was worried that she’d let me down, too. She wasn’t the only great performer to flub their piece. It happens. I still love hearing her play. I’m not sure she realizes that she cannot ever disappoint me by playing the piano.
Last week, my mom and Jack and I accompanied Phoebe on her preschool field trip to The Farm at Walnut Creek. We had a great time feeding all sorts of animals, many with amazing tongues.
You can see more pictures here. I wish I had gotten one of Jack feeding the giraffes because he was so excited to do it. He told me about it, though.
I took all the photos with my phone. I haven’t carried my big camera in a while, which I feel guilty and sad about because 1) I have a pretty great camera and 2) I haven’t put as much effort into taking pictures, lately. The camera on my phone is so quick and convenient! And life moves so fast! I also need new rechargeable batteries.
Dave took the girls to a Daddy Daughter dance at Lucy’s school on Friday night.
They wore their favorite dresses and lipstick and twirled and proclaimed they were princesses on the way out the door. They came home happily exhausted, so it must have been a good night.
Saturday was all softball and Sunday we celebrated my mom on Mother’s Day by giving her lift-the-flap flowers the kids made for her.
Under each petal were words they’d written that described her. Kind. Lovely. Pretty. Silly. Shiny. Beautiful. Generous. Cool.
We attached each of them to lotions and body spray and they decorated our table at breakfast.
After a lazy morning, we all went geocaching in the afternoon.
The trail near our house now has a geocache every two tenths of a mile. We found four before Jack fell asleep in the wagon and Julia wrecked her bike and we decided to head back home. Later, we planted our sunflowers (the petunias didn’t make it) and four o’clocks.
I’d purchased those seeds two years ago to send to someone I love but don’t often see. I was going to enclose a note asking her to plant them and when they bloomed each day at four o’clock to think of me. I would plant my own and think of her, too. I wrote and re-wrote the note, but it seemed too silly and sentimental. I never sent them. But now they are planted, and when they bloom, I will remind myself to do one of the myriad things I’ve said I was going to do, but was afraid to.