Over the weekend we went to visit Darren's parents so they could thoroughly spoil our girls as they always do. We got there on Friday evening, and they had pizza for us plus balloons and toys at each girl's place and then big frosted bakery cookies for dessert. Lucy and Elaine got to sleep in their own room together, and there were toys in there as well, plus some new Polly Pockets and Strawberry Shortcake dolls that their Aunt Kimmie had brought over for them. Yes, they lead a sad, deprived life.
On Saturday we went to the mall because they wanted to buy Lucy something for her birthday (even though they'd already sent her a gift!) We roamed around the mall for awhile, while Lucy looked at various things. Wanna see what she chose?
Sigh. She could have had toys, but she chose cute shoes instead. It was such a proud moment for me. All my training has not been in vain.
Then we went to this great place called Emo's, which is right out of Darren's childhood. It's sort of like an independently-owned Dairy Queen type of place. We sat outside and had hotdogs, cheese fries, and ice cream (yup, this is definitely becoming a food blog...) Then we went and played at a park for awhile, and the girls were so sad to say goodbye to their MiMi and PaPa.
The next day was Father's Day, then on to Monday. I dropped the girls off at daycare and went on to work. I struggle with being on time on Mondays since traffic is horrific and I have to go way out of the way of my office to drop them off, but this day I was sailing away ahead of time. Until I got into my first car accident in 23 years of driving. A guy rear-ended me, but he was very apologetic and most importantly insured, so everything's cool. I wasn't on time to work though.
When I picked Lucy and Elaine up after school, Lucy saw the back of the car and started to cry because that's the way she rolls, and Elaine said, "Lemme see where that man bumped you, Mama!" I was just glad they weren't with me when it happened.
Lucy has been enrolled in the summer camp program at Elaine's daycare since school let out. In the mornings they're both so sleepy that they're quiet all the way and just listen to music. But on the way home they're both worn-out and antagonistic and spend an hour and a half screeching and fighting and crying. It's lots of fun. Except not at all. I usually try to play their favorite music to no avail, so yesterday I just turned on James MacDonald (whom Lucy calls "Pastor Walk-walk dot com) and made them listen to a sermon on the book of Ruth. I'm telling you, they both held their stuffed rabbits, listened, and hardly made a peep the whole way home. Such is the power of King James, apparently.
When it was over, Lucy began telling me more stories of a boy at day camp whom we'll just call Anthony. Last week he spit orange juice in her hair. This week she said, "He called me a stupid girl. And a bad word, Mom, he called me 'freak.' Then he hit me in the head with a book." (OK, I'm trying to keep my cool at this point.) "Did you mention any of this to your teacher?" "Yes, and she told him that it wasn't very nice and to put the book away and he said 'No!' He just kept on saying no to her, too."
This is where I want to say, "Next time, just punch him right in the face, baby" but instead I try to remember what we're all about. I said (deep breath), "Well, if we're followers of Jesus, Lucy, what do you think He wants us to do when people are unkind to us? We could remember our verse, 'A kind answer turns away anger.'" She said, "I didn't tell him about Jesus, Mom, because I know he wouldn't want to hear about Him." "I understand," I answered, "but maybe we could pray together for Anthony."
She thought for a few moments.
Then she said, "Remember that story in the Bible? How those people were wicked and they tried to build that tower of Babel and then God made it so when they talked it was all confusing and nobody could understand it? Maybe He could do that to Anthony."
I should probably keep her away from some of the Psalms, what do you think? Before I know it, she'll be praying for God to smite him. Though I can't say I blame her.