Milla and I spent the afternoon playing with acrylic paints and a pad of paper made from mangos. Since each piece of paper was the size of a post-it note, we ended up with a pile of tiny "paintings" and a new game to play on a lazy, sunlicked summer day.
Since Milla peppers every conversation with fantastic adjectives, I thought it might be fun to engage them at the level of paint and brush. So we took turns. First, I told Milla to paint something "tired" or "sleepy". She immediately reached for the black paint tube and covered a post-it in jet black.
Then it was Milla's turn. She wanted me to paint something "oldy". Old? No, "oldy". So I quickly painted the "oldy" pear above. Milla looked at me with her crinkle-eyed, dimple-doused grin and immediately declared my success- "It's an oldy pear, Mommy!" We laughed and then Milla told me I should eat it. Clearly, acrylic paint does not taste ripe or even "oldy" so I politely declined.
When I told her it was her turn to paint again, she insisted that I continue while she picked another adjective. This time, she picked the word "juicy". I responded with the tomato above. Milla quickly stomped her two-year-old foot and declared that "apples are not juicy".
When I explained that the apple was in fact a tomato, she stared more closely and nodded- "Okay Mommy, tomato is juicy". Then we got distracted by a very clumsy grasshopper who kept jumping and landing on his side in the grass. The day fluttered by so quickly that we never had the chance to wonder if it was dissolving rather than flying.
Now, a boisterous southern thunderstorm soaks our garden and brings so much water that the rain barrel overflows.
I am grateful for the moments of half-emptiness and stunned by the moments of half-fullness. Sometimes life is more beautiful than this little mind and heart can bear.
