Our meatball poet

Maria and her third grade class hosted a poetry cafe on Tuesday this week. She kept enticing Jon and I with how much we’d enjoy her poem. I asked her a few nights before if she was nervous. She replied “a little but some kids stood up and cried or shook the entire time they spoke so I’m doing better than them.” God love her.
I arrived home Tuesday to find her already made up in her new Target dress, hair flowing, lip gloss on, and a dab of light pink eye shadow rubbed perfectly on her eyelids.
“What do ya think?” She knew exactly what I’d say.
“I think you are beautiful inside and out and I think you are gonna rock out the poetry cafe tonight.” She smiled wide and twirled around the driveway.
We ate some Mac-n-cheese and headed down to school with three boxes of Girl Scout cookies (I forgot I volunteered to bring a snack – I knew the 15 boxes we ordered would come through in a pinch).
As we were walking towards the school door, Maria looked back at me to tell me to hurry up. She stared at me from my head to my toes and cried “that’s what you’re wearing to the cafe?!” I thought I had done pretty good – I had on a new t-shirt, nice jeans and a pair of sporty gym shoes. I curtly replied “you gotta dress hip for these cafés.” She kept walking. When she looked back at me, I pouted. She gave a tiny smile and said “sorry mom, I’m just nervous.” Oh, sweet baby. I hugged her and she was off to her classroom. Mario and I were off, too, towards the baked goods table.
Grandma Meg surprised Ri and Jon made it on time, too (dad waited to go to Michigan until after the cafe, which landed him up north at 1 am – true love for his baby girl).
Ri gave an impeccable performance. She wrote about a Swedish meatball hosting a party for international friends. It was smart and funny (and of course, the best from her mama’s eyes!).

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They had paper and chalk on the tables so families could write poems to the kids. I looked down after Ri finished and Mario had written “you did a gud job Ri”. Break my heart.

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Afterwards, the kids rushed to the sweets table and ran around together giggling.

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Mario took the stage to sing – he can’t resist not being in the spotlight.

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As we left the school, Ri turned around and moved close to me.
“This may sound a little weird, mom but … I’m really proud of myself.”
The night bursted into color and the sky sang “Alleluia”. I was so excited to hear her say those words to me. I think she’s starting to believe more in herself and recognize all of the amazing qualities she possesses. There is nothing more gratifying to a mom that’s seen those qualities all along.

Poetry and earrings

Last night, Ri brought me home a present tied up in a pink paper box and a purple strung. I opened it and saw a beautiful pair of homemade earrings. They were made of a pearl stone and a glass leaf. Ri’s Kids Club teacher brought in the beads and earring stems for the kids to make mom’s day presents. So sweet.

When I saw them, I hugged Ri and told her they were absolutely beautiful. I told her I loved them so much. She told me how she made them and hugged me hard. Mario sat on the other side of the table watching us. He didn’t say a word. Other times in the past, when Ri has made me something and he hasn’t, he gets upset. He runs away and complains that he’s a “horrible son” or he says that I don’t love him as much as Ri. But he had no such reaction last night. After Ri and I hugged, I asked them both what we should have for dinner and the night proceeded regularly.

Fast forward to lunch at Mario’s school today. The school hosted lunch with mom to celebrate Mother’s Day. I arrived at 11:45 and Mario and I played with the geese outside for a bit. Then as if someone had just shot him with a thought bubble, he grabbed my hand and whisked me into his classroom.

“Close your eyes mom. Close your eyes!”

I closed them.

“Ok, open!”

I looked down at his extended little hand. There laid two tiny purple twisted pipe cleaners. I didn’t know exactly what to think so I smiled and said “Wow!” Luckily he immediately chimed in and exclaimed “they are earrings I made for you, mom! Do you like them?!”

How could I not love them? But how concerned should I be that my son made these for me in order to directly compete with his sister and one-up her?!

He also made me a picture of a rainbow with my name and his on it. Perfect for my office wall. And he answered a few questions posed by his teacher about his mama. He’s so right about my favorite food….

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Prior to Mario’s lunch, I got treated to muffins at Ri’s school as well as a poetry fest. Ri and each of her classmates wrote poems for their moms but only Ri and a few other of her girlfriends wrote ones directly about their moms. Ri’s poem was the sweetest, most darling poem ever written to me.

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She had several other moms tearing up, thank goodness, because that was the only condition in which I was permitted to cry – if other moms did – so she wouldn’t be embarrassed having the only mom who cried. Afterwards, she gave me huge hug and sat on my lap.

I have branded this day in my mind so I can resurrect it ten years from now when both kids are running off with friends on Mother’s Day and not even dreaming of making their mom jewelry.