A cute young woman rang our doorbell just as we’d got the kids into bed and eaten dinner. She looked familiar and I panicked thinking she might propose to me or something. 

She said, “My dad and I wanted to thank you for your help with Nelson last night. We were in our pyjamas when he got out and were so worried. I’m sorry he jumped on your kids. Thank you for helping us.” She handed me the flowers and a nicely wrapped giant bar of Toblerone chocolate.

You see Sunday night after we had church at our house, I heard Bill and his friend, “Monkey,” say as they were leaving, “Hey, is this your dog?” This cute little white clean dog went running around in our driveway. I greeted him and tried to encourage Noah to pet him. Noah usually loves dogs but he was freaking out for some reason. Ella, who is more likely to freak out, was standing on the boot of our car and so felt safe. 

I noticed the dog didn’t have a collar and suddenly thought as it seemed to be running somewhere, “I better pick the dog up and hold it.” I thought I might think of a good plan to help the owners find the dog by at least keeping it from running further away from home. That was when this young woman and her dad walked by and saw me holding him. 

I enjoyed having that experience with Ella and Noah. It jogged dog stories from my youth that I’ve already begun to tell Ella at bedtime. 

I was blown away by the generosity of the family that gave us flowers and wrapped chocolate! I feel like a piece of cynicism, sarcasm, and greed was chewed out of my life with each bite of chocolate.

Almost every night at Ella’s bedtime I ask her what she’s thankful for that day. We take turns. She says something she’s thankful for and then I go and so on. She holds a small pad of paper and pen and “writes” these things down.

Monday she and Noah and Nicole went to an urban farm with friends, Luz and Romina. They got to milk a cow and crack a whip among other things at the farm.

So, at the end of the day I couldn’t wait to hear what Ella’s favourite thing was. 

“When Mom squeezed the cow’s bottom.”

I laughed pretty hard.

An excerpt from this article on the benefit (?) of kids taking playground risks:

Still, sometimes there’s nothing quite like being 10 feet off the ground, as a new generation was discovering the other afternoon at Fort Tryon Park. A soft rubber surface carpeted the pavement, but the jungle gym of Mr. Stern’s youth was still there. It was the prime destination for many children, including those who’d never seen one before, like Nayelis Serrano, a 10-year-old from the South Bronx who was visiting her cousin.

When she got halfway up, at the third level of bars, she paused, as if that was high enough. Then, after a consultation with her mother, she continued to the top, the fifth level, and descended to recount her triumph.

“I was scared at first,” she explained. “But my mother said if you don’t try, you’ll never know if you could do it. So I took a chance and kept going. At the top I felt very proud.” As she headed back for another climb, her mother, Orkidia Rojas, looked on from a bench and considered the pros and cons of this unfamiliar equipment.

“It’s fun,” she said. “I’d like to see it in our playground. Why not? It’s kind of dangerous, I know, but if you just think about danger you’re never going to get ahead in life.”

Ella tickling Noah.

So, I was changing my daughter’s nappy this evening and found in it something. I said, “Is that chocolate? Or poop?” … “Ah, it’s carob. I love carob!”