"s" is for ...

sweet.  silly.  sensitive.  sister.  i was in the carpool line to pick up susanna, brainstorming words that started with "s" for a photo album i was making for her.  i had a coupon for one of those books from shutterfly and had decided to use pictures from her portrait session back in september, and thought it would be neat to label the pages with words that started with "s" that described her.  but i needed a few more.

i pulled up to the front of the line, excited to see her.  but as she approached the car and climbed in with a frown on her face, i was reminded of how she's been the past week or so.

yep, i had another "s" word to use.  surly.

"hey honey!" i exclaimed, determined to remain upbeat, despite her foul attitude.  "how was your day?"

she just glared at me.  ooh -- another "s" word: scowling.  i was on a roll.

i don't know what's gotten into her recently, but whatever it is, i hope it leaves soon.  the girl has seriously turned into a total debbie downer.  "i don't want to go to ballet," she informs me.  "i don't like art class anymore," she declares.  "i don't want to wear the dark top that my teachers have requested i wear under my pilgrim costume and instead want to stand in front of the church in a cropped white t-shirt with my belly hanging out," she tells me.  (okay, she didn't actually say that.  but you know what they say about actions vs. words.)  she actually seems to enjoy being miserable, for no other reason than to just, well, be miserable.

but right when i was about to get on craigslist and offer her up for free in the pets section, she surprised us.  she decided she wanted to help around the house this weekend.  now, don't get me wrong -- she still wasn't back to her normal positive self -- but at least she was telling us there was something she actually wanted to do, instead of what she refused to do.

so, we agreeably put the girl to work.  it began on saturday morning, when she raced upstairs to put on some playclothes to help chris in the yard.  i saw her head out the front door and figured she might last for a minute or two, before getting bored and moving on to something more exciting.  but a half-hour later, i glanced outside to see her little head at the end of the driveway, holding a rake that was literally twice her size, with a determined gleam in her eye as she ever so slowly moved one big pile of leaves to the curb.   she stuck with the task until the bitter end -- and then asked chris if she could use the blower.  naturally, he obliged.

and she didn't stop there.  she came in and grabbed the broom from the laundry room so she could clear the steps to the deck.  later, she wanted the mop so she could clean the back porch.  when she saw chris chopping firewood in the back yard, she waltzed right on over and tried it herself.  (with, needless to say, a ton of supervision.  we might be violating child labor laws, but at least we're safe.)  and when most preschoolers might have had enough of the work and called it a day, she donned her apron and helped me cook tilapia for our sunday dinner, unloaded the kiddie cups from the dishwasher, and towel-dried the plastic bowls.  i know she was happy doing all of it, because for the first time in days, she grinned at me.   

i guess i could add slave to the "s" list, but it has such a negative connotation.  servant, perhaps?  thankfully, no matter what word i use, at least she's a smiling one.