Spenser spied her Easy-Bake Oven on a high shelf in our mudroom (which I had nearly forgotten about) and asked to bake something. During Sawyer's nap we made a yellow cake and chocolate frosting. She did most of the work herself. As the cake was "baking" under the light bulb, she stirred the chocolate frosting, while I tended to the the pot of black beans and kettle of split-pea soup on the stove.
When I turned around, the frosting was gone. It didn't even last long enough for the cake to bake. She loved every second of it. She wasn't too interested in the cake...
My day improved as we headed off to karate. It was exam night and only two of my four were testing (Carter, red belt, and Mason, white belt). I had been so nervous for them all day, just as any mother would be. They breezed through their exams.
Mason (5 and the littlest in the class) was performing with the rest of the small group of four testers. When it was time to do a harder form, the instructor told the children that if they didn't know this form to go sit down. No one sat down. She repeated herself. No one sat down. Then she looked at Mason and said it again. Very slowly. Mason (very loudly) said, "I can do it!" Then she told him that if he started and couldn't finish to just take a seat against the wall.
And then they started. My stomach was in complete knots. My eyes stayed on Mason the entire time. I don't think I was even breathing. It was so intense. He did his form. Perfectly. While I was watching him, tears were welling up in my eyes. His movements were so precise and strong. He knew it. He could do it. My heart was full. (Would it be mean to say that he did it better than a fifth-grader?)
(And Joe missed the entire performance. He is traveling this week ...)