Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

At church last Sunday the lesson was on families, and "gifts" we get from our families like a grandfather's nose (luckily I did not get that Diamond gem) or blue eyes - you get the point.  So when the teacher asked what gifts the children had been given from their families Addie raised her hand and shared that she had been given her mom's singing voice.  Bless her heart, she thinks I can sing.  I didn't want to sadden her with the cold hard reality that her mom was the only student in all of sixth grade at Greenbrook Elementary who didn't make Mr. K's beginning chorus class, and for icing on the cake he asked my sister if I knew I was tone deaf.  And while we are exploring tragedy in my life, Jason made me cry once while we were dating when I asked him why he wasn't singing in church and his reply was that it was too hard trying to stay on tune while singing next to me.  The irony of this whole story is that at age 11 I was in the San Francisco Opera, so take that Jason & Mr. K! (I was a bald buddhist monk child in a red shroud that walked across the stage while the real SF children's choir sang offstage, but whatever!)  So thank you Addie for thinking so highly of me, but next time you tell me I look pretty, your judgment is a bit in question.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Flashback Friday: Addie's Night on the Town

Rewind 2 years ago and Addie was 4 years 8 months old.  We were still in Gilbert, Arizona, getting ready to make our move to California.  Addie had a best friend, Lizzie, and they were so cute and yet such trouble together.  They were always trying to get marathon playdates and never wanted their party to end.  They are both very assertive girls hidden behind blonde curls and blue eyes.  I would tell Addie before playing with Lizzie, don't play with nail polish, don't burp over and over, don't put ice down your underwear, and don't switch underwear!  The list got longer each playdate.  But I loved these girls together and saw how special their friendship was.
So one night my phone rang at 5:00 am and it was Lizzy's mom.  In her very upbeat, cheerful voice she asked if I knew where Addie was.  Of course I knew, she was sleeping in her bed, duh!  Um, actually she said she was at her house and had knocked on her door a few minutes before.  My heart dropped in my stomach and I felt like I was going to throw it up.  Then she filled me in on the details; that Lizzie was actually up waiting for her, that they had arranged this the day before since they had been denied a sleepover, that 2 little girls who can't tell time simultaneously wake at the same time, that Addie left our house shortly after 4:30 in pitch black and walked 5 blocks crossing 2 semi-major streets in her cheetah girl jammies, flip flops, and curlers to a waiting Lizzie who had tried to call Addie only minutes earlier but was told by her Grandma to go back to bed, and that the girls were actually discovered when they were overheard talking in the kitchen.  WTH!
(A re-enactment picture)

When Addie was driven home, I had such a mix of gratefulness she was safe, astonishment that she was capable of this, anger that she didn't see anything she did wrong, and amusement that she was capable of this.  Putting the pieces together, we remembered she had actually come into our bedroom and tried to get Jason's ginormous maglight, but when he asked what she was doing made a quick exit and we didn't think twice while we went back to sleep.
The following night, Lizzie attempted a dash from her house and made it as far as her corner, but the sun had just started to come out and a neighbor who knew her saw her and started asking questions.  She told him to just leave and go to work, but he escorted her grudgingly back home.  We had also barricaded our front door with our piano bench, we would definitely hear if that was being moved on the tile.  
2 years later and a state apart these girls still consider each other best friends, and I still don't trust them as far as I can throw them, but love them to bits!