The Eye of the Storm

Yesterday morning, after a small disagreement, Katherine informed me that she would like to go live with her cousin Paige in Virginia. I promptly picked up the phone, called the said cousin's mother, and got the O.K. on that plan.

So, we went upstairs to pack. I lovingly and patiently helped Katherine to select a suitcase, and then we began deciding which clothes she would need. After a few minutes of solemn packing, Katherine burst into tears and assured me that she would always love me, "no matter what I do." Her re-location to Virginia was then cancelled, at least for this week.

During the last couple of years, since Madeleine stopped telling people at the grocery store that they look fat and are "hanging out everywhere," most of our family humor stories stem from little Katherine's naughtiness and general tendency to think outside the four year old box.

This morning when I dropped Katherine off at pre-school she was loudly celebrating her beautiful, green dress. I reminded her, "Kate, it's so fun to dress up for St. Patrick's Day, but what is the most important thing to remember at school?"

I was going for the whole, "Be nice to the other students and listen to the teacher" angle. I figured no one else wanted to hear about her green dress for the next two hours. Without missing a beat Katherine said, "I know mom. I need to keep my clothes on."

Not quite what I was getting at.

With the energy and volume of three little girls dominating our home you can imagine my surprise when I enter a room and discover the usual tempests at bay. Katherine sitting in our formal living room thumbing through a book of Van Gogh paintings. The girls on the couch watching TV while Madeleine scrathes her sister's back. Katherine making a bed for herself in the middle of the toy room floor, lying down and promptly falling asleep. In the wake of this week's drama, I'm left marveling at the quiet tenderness, and little girl sweetness that occurs during the eye of the storm.