Lizzie Gets Lost

Monday, May 11

Anne Peyton's best friend Jackie came over today, on this beautiful, perfect spring day. After lunch I took the kids down to the lake. Sadly, there appear to be no frogs or turtles inhabiting this area any longer. The old-timers who have been here for years tell me this was not always the case, but something has happened. Regardless, Anne Peyton manages to find a limp little lizard in the sand. I am thinking he's dead, but it turns out he's a rubber lizard used as bait. She becomes quite enamored of this little creature, and aptly names her "Lizzie". Lizzie comes home with us, is put in a place of honor on a special blanket in a special basket, and is lovingly looked after.

Right after Jackie and some other impromptu (the best kind, I still think!) guests leave (at about 7pm!!) AP begins to cry, inconsolably. Finally she manages to explain that she has lost Lizzie. She holds up 2 cm of rubber lizard tail and blubbers "and all I have left is her tail". More intense crying. The entire family joins in the search but she is nowhere to be found. Honestly, I'm not sure if I have ever seen AP this upset. We convince her to wash up and eat some dinner and we would resume the search afterwards. While I'm preparing dinner, John manages to distract her with some "what was your favorite part of the day?" conversation and all is going well until she opens her clenched fist, looks down, and sees the lonely lizard tail. Hell breaks loose again. She is impossible during dinner.

My frustration with her is obvious, and at one point (after I have praised Tommy for finishing his rice, I think), she wimpers "Mommy, it makes me sad when you aren't proud of me". WOW. John and I both said later we have never heard her utter such a statement. Of course I told her all the things I was proud of, etc, etc. But very interesting to have this insight into her psyche (thanks mostly to a very active day and an empty tummy).

After quietly checking with John, I offer that if our next search is unsuccessful, maybe daddy can take her to the store to find a new Lizzie. And that if we manage to find the old Lizzie even after that, then she will have TWO Lizzies.

Her expression changes instantly: mouth opens wide; eyes open wide. A look of sheer excitement. She joyfully states, "Mommy! I want to buy TWO Lizzies at the store!!".

Later she does lament that the original Lizzie might get into some kind of "trouble" out there, but I assure her that Lizzie's camoflage and lack of movement will do her a world of good. But when AP returns from the sportsmens store with a WHOLE BAG (9, to be exact) of new Lizzies, she is exuberant. As is Tommy. So as I type this, AP has 4 Lizzies sleeping on her bedside table, and Tommy has one, sitting on the shelf looking down at him.

It's awfully tempting to get this little girl a hermit crab or a turtle or a hamster or something, but gosh, why bother?

To Hug a Mockingbird

Monday, May 4th - The kids and I are here at my mom's house in lovely Greensboro, Georgia and one of the treats is that I get a bed and a room all to myself (I love reading in bed but I always feel bad interfering w/John's sleep because he usually falls asleep faster than I do). I've come prepared with a can't-put-down book recommended by my Radical bookclub friends (a YA novel called "Jellicoe Road").

So I'm reading and reading and reading, then Mom pops in at 12:30 on a bathroom trip and gives me this "are you sure it's a good idea to stay up this late reading?" look (hmmm, also something I don't get at home, for better or for worse!). So a half hour later, I begrudgingly put the book down. The bed is comfortable, the windows are open, the breeze is cool, and I am happily drifting off to sleep. Then, just a few minutes later, the resident mockingbird decides that NOW is a good time to show off the ten thousand different songs in his repertoire.

Fortunately, I am a great audience because I am very relaxed and in a very good mood. I lie there, laughing with delight at this dingbat bird who is singing in the pitch dark, apparently because he has a captive audience? I even pull out my camera and put it on video mode so I can capture the sound (out a dark window). But he goes on for an hour, and I cannot fall asleep. I COULD just close the windows but instead I decide that is an excuse to turn on the light and keep reading. Which I do, and finally finish the book about 2 hours later, 3:30am. Mr. Mockingbird (who I later learned via google is probably a young unmated male, as this is quite common for them) is still singing, but, as if on cue, finished up shortly thereafter.

What was particularly neat about this is that the book I was reading had a reference to "To Kill Mockingbird". Specifically (page 105):

Mr. Palmer: She calls her friend 'Mrs. Dubose.' That's all I know. Have you heard of her?

Taylor: Yes, I say sleepily. She lived in the same street as Jem and Scout Finch.

I, for one, did not remember who Mrs. Dubose was. By the end of the book, I knew. And knew that rereading "To Kill A Mockingbird" would be my next indulgence. Being in a small southern town and discussing with mom the segregation that still exists there, and then reading a reference to the book would have been enough of a prompt, but being serenaded by a mockingbird that night was just too perfect!