A joyful glimpse

I just wanted to share a little moment in our life here, because it’s moments like these that make me so happy and thankful for the gift of being able to be a mother at home with my kids.

Right now, the floors are strewn with duplo, there is a pile of pillows and cushions on one side of the rug and an interesting concoction of a stool, intricately knotted jumping rope and cardboard on the other side of the rug. I am informed that this is a boat that the king is using to go find the princess who ran away. When the king finds the princess, she will get 13 smacks. (!!?) There are pink playdough crumbs under the table (we made lovely warm fresh stuff this morning) and quite a few sticky spots from kids licking the beaters from icing. They of course see no problem with leaving the beaters on the floor when there is no more icing to be licked off it.

Marica just yelled to inform me “Esther pak alles uit!” (Esther is unpacking everything). The girls’ room is now strewn with scarves, mittens, jerseys, hats and toys. The bunk bed has been turned into a sailing palace, and we’ll probably have a tea party in it soon.

The contents of the book case lies on the floor after being enjoyed (and sung!) by Esther.

Marica has dressed herself, and if she expires from heat soon, I won’t be surprised. She has on, in this order: a singlet, a polar fleece vest, a shirt, a hat and a polar fleece hoodie. She asked me if I can put the fan on, because she is hot.

She’s learning to read. This morning we did “Die nat kat sit op die mat” and some addition in our ‘homeschooling’ time. Right now she’s singing a song that she’s made up. I don’t know how she even knows who Obama is, but she’s singing: “Marica Obama Murphy Hoyt… Obama fly away… go to sleep… AMEN!

There are cupcakes in the oven and a half-iced birthday cake on the table. When the cupcakes are cool Marica is allowed to do the sprinkles on the icing. It will be beautiful and very, very messy. I can predict that when I see her earnestly sprinkling away that my heart will feel like bursting at the thought that my big girl is going to be 4 already, and I’ll probably smother her in a hug. She will protest, and I will laugh.