She can scramble eggs, and stir them around in the pan herself. She can also fry them, and flip them pretty well.
She likes to stand on a chair at the stove and stir ramen noodles, too.
Lately she has been making her own peanutbutter and jam sandwiches as well.
She's tall enough to stand at the counter and do this, which is actually more strange to me than her desire to fix her own lunch. (cue chorus and violins..."...When did she grow to be this tall?")
Yesterday was Mother's Day, and Julia and Alex made cards for me and gave me good chocolate (which they hid under my bed, for some reason) and were pretty well-behaved for most of the day, which was rather nice.
But Mother's Day only lasted the morning and into the afternoon.
It ended shortly after 3 pm.
Then it became Daddy the Hero Day.
Before I get to that, I'll really briefly recap Mother's Day. We had brunch here, with my parents and my sister and her kids. Mom brought a fruit salad, my sister brought a dozen eggs from her chickens, which I scrambled up for everyone, and I made bialys, I'd made cream cheese the day before, and I cooked bacon and some pancakes, too, because Alex doesn't like eggs or cream cheese. And we had coffee. I think that's everything. Anyway, we set out all the food on the big coffee table in the living room and ate in there. All in all a nice relaxed little Mother's Day for the family.
Everyone left around noon or so, and I quickly washed up the dishes so I could get started on my next batch of cheddar. Bill went outside to work in the gardens, and the kids were in and out of the house while I added starter and rennet and stirred curds.
And then Julia came running into the kitchen, "Mommy, Mommy, look!" And she opened her mouth to show me some blood and her tooth, which was resting on her gum, perpendicular to the rest of her teeth, but still attached. I felt it. It was very wiggly, and I told her it would probably come out that day or the next.
To say she was excited would be a gross understatement. She ran outside, "I'm gonna show Daddy!" I went back to my curds.
Minutes later, she was back inside.
"You'll need to be brave. Can you do that?"
"It might hurt...can you handle that?"
"Are you sure?"
"I'll pinch your ear, just to see." He pinched her ear lobe and she did not flinch. So then he had her open her mouth and he tapped at various teeth, saying "Is it this one? Is it this one?" until he got to THE tooth. He wiggled it a bit and was able to get a grip on it, and with a "one...two...three!" the tooth was out.
Julia spent the rest of the day glued to Bill's side, helping him weed and plant new rounds of radishes and lettuces and scallions, and whatever else he did.
This morning she arranged his slippers just so next to his side of the bed.
And apparently she was talking to him about her tooth coming out (probably recapping the whole event and the joy of tooth loss) and said something like "thanks to you, Daddy!"
So there it is. I get up with her at midnight and hold her while she sobs because of the pains in her belly. I barely sleep on an uncomfortable ottoman, protectively at her side while her body rids itself of noxious fumes. I take out splinters and bandage boo-boos and teach her to cook eggs and make sandwiches.
But Daddy is her hero.
Just look at that gorgeous smile.