David is going to be miffed at me for doing this, but I'm going to deviate from My Food-Writing Trap post to share with you some pictures of the kids from this weekend. I know, I know, kids, climbing trees, precious.
But I had a moment. Lucy and Edie spent an hour in this one tree this weekend, moving branch to branch, pretending to be different characters, and changing the story a hundred times. I was shooting pictures, and watching. I saw them, Lucy perched high on one branch, Edie on the one below, just talking to each other. I saw smiles, peppered with giggles, paired with curious, eager, open faces. Completely with each other.
And that's when I saw them as teenagers.
I saw them at 13 and 12, sitting on the branches of the tree talking about boys (or girls, whatever) and gossip, and their dreams. I saw them taking life seriously one minute and then, falling out into laughter the next, and then moving back into some serene, whispered talk, some super-secret-sister-business, I suppose.
They looked so old. And I thought, wow my babies are gone. These are girls. They have their own lives. Their own problems. Their own joys. Their own gifts and burdens. They are not connected to me in the same way anymore. Oh sure, they still need me - I mean, who the hell is going to fetch them chocolate milk while they watch Pink Panther? - but it's different now.
And it's beautiful. They are in the world, and David and I had something to do with that. I'm proud of them. Really, just for who they are.
That's what I saw in the tree. And I wanted to share that with you. Thanks for letting me. (If I were a really good food blogger, I'd pair this with a recipe, but, you know, not so much.)