Pascha and Kascha go to the Aquarium
Today we are two years old. In the morning, we each get a bag with two presents. One from Mommy and one from Daddy. The gifts from Mommy are a homemade stuffed lion and cat (photos to come). Daddy went to the posh toy store near his work and picked up toy wooden Bento Boxes. Sushi kits complete with chopsticks with velcro on the end to pick up fake sushi. We are delighted to feed the sushi to the cat and lion.
I tell the girls the names that came with the cat and lion. Letitia and Ada. Anya repeats hers, "Titia," she says. But only minutes later I hear her say, "Pascha, eat your sushi!" I ask her, "What is the lion's name?" "Pascha," she says. I am delighted by this. To me, this is a big step, naming her toys. She has done this before, but never so quickly and do elegantly. Our Little People are all named, Nonal, Nona, MayMay and then another Nonal. Nice, but Pascha makes me think of a real person that Anya may have known in another life. Perhaps a life where she lived in some far off land where the sand always got in her eyes.
At the aquarium, we see animals. What kind of animals, I ask, "Wet," says Anya. Yes. We look at dolphins from under a pool and are thrilled. Rachi dances and screams, "Hello dolphins. I love you. What you doing?" This is a repeat of last weekend, when we went to the Ag show and she yelled the same thing at some goats.
Each time we walk away from a tank of fish, Anya is so polite. She says, "Bye fishies. I love you. Thank you." Sometimes she says, "Hi-lo, fishies. I Anya." Sometimes we say, "Fishies yum." This is strange because we don't eat fish. A few times, they call the biggest fish in the tank, a "mommy-fish." I don't take this personally, but it reminds me why I am losing weight.
In the basement, it is so dark and the shark exhibit is genuinely scary for me. All those teeth. And I am reminded of Damien Hurst's wonderful Tiger Shark at the Saatchi Gallery in London. My girls were made that week, but it seems so much longer ago. We don't linger with the sharks.
While waiting for Jeff to use the bathroom, the girls and I are in a small sitting area with an Indian famly. They are delighted by the girls, but don't talk to me. They just smile and speak to each other in another language. As we are leaving, Anya goes up to the oldest woman in the family and says, "Thank you." All twinkle eyes, my Anya is. And I have no idea what this is all about.
In the car on the way home, after much crying over wanting to not share my Italian Ice, but just wanting it all to herself (we give it to her and it is a huge mess!), Anya says, "Pascha. I need Pascha." Her eyes are red and she is tired from an exciting day of wet animals. I hand her Pascha. Rachi says, "Cat. Where is cat." I ask her what her cat's name is, expecting her to say just cat. Instead she says, "Kascha." I wonder if she is just parroting her sister or if she has purposely named her cat a matching name to her sister's. Great, Pascha and Kascha, I think. Were these your names in that past life? The sandy one? Twins with twin names? Maybe not, but it is funny that for all our wanting things to be different for each girl that this is what we name our new friends.
I think much today about how as parents, our main job is creating memories. These memories are what build up like blocks into who we will become. Will this be the girls' earliest memory? Perhaps. I need to remember this, though, that every minute that I spend with my girls is building who they will become. Every minute is a lesson yearned, a love created, a memory added to the pile. And it is my job to make these memories fabulous and usefull and totally rad. This is my job as mom. I am protector and entertainer and creator of wonderfulness. I don't always succeed, but at least I am aware of what it is that I *need* to do.
We are two and we are creating our first memories. What could be more awesome?