Worth Remembering

Lucy is such a stitch! Yesterday she gave Dada instructions on how to dance like a sunflower. "First you put your feet together, bend your knees and bounce up and down. Pretend like you have petals around your head and sway from side to side." Less you think my kid extremely imaginative, she and Dada love to play a computer game called "Plants vs. Zombies" where sunflowers are the key to your survival. They produce "suns" which you use in turn to purchase plants to defend yourself. It's not as horrific as it sounds - it's really kind of cute and very clever. You, the unseen homeowner, plant flowers and such in your yard that fight off oncoming Zombies. Some of the plants are peashooters, potato mines, cat-tails, melon pults and doom shrooms. They are all wonderfully animated and with good coaching Lucy is always able to plant a line of defense that keeps the Zombies from entering the house and "eating her brains." There are different Zombies that have different strengths. Some wear buckets on their heads as protection. There are Zamboni driving zombies that lay ice for bobsled zombies and ones that wear scuba gear to swim in your back-yard pool. One even resembles Michael Jackson and he sprouts back-up singers as a wall of protection around him. He is Lucy's favorite - she calls him "Jackson Michael." You are able to "win" the entire game as you advance through different levels and ultimately defeat "Dr. Zomboss." Once that happens the zombies and sunflowers have a dance party and rock out to a catchy little song. Lucy loves to watch the little music video and knows all words to the tune. This is where she learned to dance like a sunflower and her repeated viewings have made her an expert.

Something brought to my recollection a cute thing Emma did probably a year ago or so. I know I told many of my friends, but I don't know if I ever recorded it for posterity and it's too good to forget.

Lucy used to (and still does with less frequency, thank goodness) have MAJOR meltdowns where there was just no reasoning with her. They usually happened at night, helped along, I'm sure, by her tired state. After one particularly draining episode I finally got her in bed and asleep. Emma was having trouble sleeping - probably because such episodes key everyone up - so I laid down in bed next to her to help her get to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling; my mind was racing trying to figure out what I could have done to avoid the meltdown, what I could do better next time and what I needed to repent for as soon as I was able to kneel in prayer. I let out a big sigh and said, "Emma, I just don't know what we are going to do with your sister." Emma thought about it a minute and replied, "Maybe we could sell her on e-bay." That caught me by surprise. I tried to suppress a laugh and calmly said, "You don't sell members of your family." "Oh," she replied and then after a few moments of careful contemplation added, "Then maybe we could just give her away."