This morning, Alex wearing shorts, climbed into the car. I reached over to attach her seatbelt.

"You have poka dots on your legs," Antonio said. "They're called goosebumps. My sister Crystel caught them before. They wash away when you are warm."

It wasn't yet sixty degrees.

"I have a Hannah Montana t-shirt on," Alex answered.

A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

Keeping Score

Why does he have a different laundry basket than me?

Do I get three licorice?

Does Crissy get a timeout too?

Can I help? Crissy got to use the mop last time.

Whose turn is it to sit in the middle?

Why did the tooth fairy bring him ....

I took a bath first last time.

I'm growing, Crystel's not.

How come I don't get no cars?

This is how Santa came to bring Antonio his own Princesses and Crystel Spiderman pajamas.

Friday Playgroup

Crystel and Antonio have been in a Friday playgroup that moves amongst three homes for about two years. This playgroup was formed with a handful of children that were in Crystel's speech class. Crystel had articulation disorder which made it difficult to understand her. For the first years of their lives, Antonio was the most outspoken and often translated for Crystel. Now Crystel would like to translate for him. Note her fashion statement. For some reason, which we have yet to know, she often wears her hooded sweaters, sweatshirts, and jackets with just the hood on. If I start seeing celebrities dressed like this we will know that it started right here - from this little girl.

"I'll have to come home from work because no one can get the treadmill working fast enough," Jody said. There isn't much that Jody will leave work for. At a certain speed, and who knows what speed that is, she had heard a squeak and wanted the treadmill fixer people to look at it. At the time I didn't say anything about her comment. It passed me by. But then again, how could I feel slighted? Look at her wind blown hair, her effort, her focus. Do you see the elliptical machine next to the treadmill? That's what I most often use. I hardly break a sweat. I wouldn't want to be distracted from the movie I'm watching.

The children are far more techno-savy than me - even at age five. They engaged in a bit of subterfuge yesterday. I was looking through pictures last night and wondered how some shots got on the camera. It only took me until this morning to realize that after I had left the living room to shower - after taking the picture of Antonio doctoring Crystel - that they had gotten dressed and then picked up the camera and were doing exactly what I had just done. Documenting my steps. They didn't mention any of this to me, which is surprising in itself. Generally they are very much like me and can't keep anything quiet. First, there is a picture of the coat rack which leads to the basement, then Crystel's one eye looking down the basement steps, then the empty basement steps, and finally the picture they took of each other. What is amazing is their wonderful smiles. At this age when the camera is pointed in their direction they are more apt to give their silliest face, cover their eyes, or put their fingers in their ears. This is their 'I've just pulled a fast one on Mama Beth' look.

Any morning 7AM.

"Can I see your owie?" Antonio asks. He's flagging a bandaid in the air.

Crystel brushing Sleeping Beauty's hair says, "It doesn't hurt much more."

When she came home from swim lessons last night the door slammed against her bare heel. Amongst the screaming and dogs barking I heard Jody say, "I don't see any blood. I think it will be all right. Stop Screaming so I can look closer."

This morning, Antonio, the ever helpful brother, who didn't receive any encouragement, lay on his back to doctor her owie.

Crossing her legs to hide her heels, Crystel says, "You can see it only if I move." She gently strokes her dolls hair, not paying her brother any mind, and bundles the golden locks into a ponytail.

Can fairies die? God is in me forever. He can take care of my little spirit. I know what God does when my heart explodes, he puts it back together like a puzzle. When I die will I be born again in Guatemala? Can we go there and wait for a baby to wake up? Crystel and I pass two cemetaries on our drive to retrieve Antonio from Joyce Preschool. This often prompts her to ask what happens when we die and then our conversation moves to birth and then back to dying. I quickly grab the small notebook I have for such occasions and become a secretary taking diction. I can't write fast enough to catch her words. In these moments I'm in the presence of a mystic. Or certainly a person who is channeling spirit. I have thought of getting a tape recorder for these occasions but that feels a bit intrusive though I'm not sure that she would mind. At times she tells me that she wants me to write a story about a specific something or that she has written a story whereas she'll produce some squiggly lines and tell me what she wrote. You may wonder what Antonio is doing during these conversations as they continue even after he gets in the car. He can take about ten minutes of our discussion and then says, "Can you turn the music on please?" And honestly, by about this time, I'm ready for music myself. Here come the children now. They have just gotten home from swim lessons. "What are you writing, Mama Beth?" I start to read. Antonio stops me abruptly. "Fairies can really die." His voice rises. "Tinkerbell dies." Jumping into the conversation, Crystel adds, "Tinkerbell died because she didn't believe in she and then when she believed in herself she lived." I'll go to bed with that thought.

Jody and I on our wedding day (before children)

Crystel and Antonio five years ago

Crystel and Antonio with Bandit Rose