Sunday, August 7, 2011

Happy Birthday to Chaltu!

Today was Chaltu's 1st Birthday, and so naturally this called for a cake, a hearty rendition of 'Happy Chaltu Birthday', and an ever-so-proper tea party. All before breakfast. Or rather, instead of breakfast.

Be proud of me. Be very very proud. The other baby of the family has been killing me with infinity night wake-ups and 5 am mornings, and so today when she slept until 7:30 it felt like Christmas. No, Ayyam-i-Ha. Also, remind me to fall asleep more often with Samaya. It makes for better parenting all around.

Samaya and Chaltu, my eager bakers.


Notice how I chose the only photo where her fingers
weren't wandering around in the batter.


'I'll take this piece.'


Tea for Chaltu.


Clearly giddy with excitement.


Raspberry buttermilk cake and tea. from the tap.

In related news, I've hired Maria Montessori as my personal nanny, and though I've known her for a while now, I am really just beginning to appreciate her magic. She certainly has a way with children. The secret? Put 'em to work. Even better: make them do YOUR work. If I write a follow-up post about Montessori in our home, it will probably be called Child Labor. Look for it.
I am always searching for ways to turn more control over to Samaya and considering she is very much in the 'do it SELF' phase of life, this can only mean fewer battles. Among other more profound things like increased self-esteem and becoming a productive member of society. So this morning in our birthday preparations, I prayed for detachment and then let her have at it. She poured all the ingredients in the bowl, tasting every single one. She cracked her first egg. She stirred, gracing the floor, the wall and most of her body with batter. She buttered the pan, and proceeded in taking a generous bite. She distributed plates and silverware to each of her guests. She poured many, many cups of tea and many more pots directly into her mouth. She washed and dried her tea set in her kitchen, washing a few more times for good measure.

The end result: a very messy kitchen, a truly grounded and happy child, a deeply satisfied mama.

Now, if only Violet hadn't fallen off the bed before lunch and I might have considered it a pretty good mothering day...







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