Three Part Harmony

Part One

Jack pulled off Molly socks this morning and bit down. As they both began to scream, Molly in pain and Jack in frustration at being told No, I worried that having two children so close together was going to destroy us all. Until later that night, I watched and listened to my children laughing uproariously. The whole house reverberated with the deep-belly laughs of my babies as they played Molly Boo. This is our version of peek-a-boo. It involves Molly sitting on the couch. Jack crouches down beneath the sofa to build just the right amount of suspense. Then suddenly he leaps up and screams, rather loudly, directly in Molly's face. I'm not quite sure why this produces the effect that it does, but both children dissolve into fits and puddles of laughter each time this is done. I only have to watch mere seconds of Molly Boo to know that every little girl deserves a biting, screaming, Toddler Monster for her big brother.

Part Two

When I was in elementary school, I had a music teacher named Mrs. Sugar. Concerned about the disparity between the amount of Christmas songs sung in our chorus as opposed to Hanukkah diddies, Mrs. Sugar wrote and invited us to preform her Hanukkah original. The Chorus, which is better punctuated by loud and off-key shouting rather than signing, goes like this,

Sing! Hey!
Sing! Hey!
Hanukkah! Hanukkah!
Sing! Hey!
Sing! Hey!
Hanukkah's here!

For some reason this song stuck in my mind all these years. Since tonight is the third night of Hanukkah and Judaism is the religion my husband was raised with, I decided to give him a rousing version of Mrs. Sugar's song. After sing/shouting it to him in our kitchen, complete with some improvised dance moves that included pelvic thrusts and wild arms thrashing, David looked me straight in the eyes and said with earnest, You are a Goddess. He then proceeded to pull from the oven a warm and toasty pizza pie and offered me the first slice.

Part Three

My mother came over. I watched her tell Jack that she had a prize for him. She pulled from her bag a small pair of powder-blue mittens. I heard Jack gasp in delight. She gently placed the gloves on his outstretched hands. They must have reminded him somehow of the hand-puppet he has that is designed in the shape of a lion. He stretched his fingers to the sky and began to growl as he hopped, skipped, and twirled around the room. My mom threw her own head back and laughed. My mom's laughter, powder-blue mittens, and a toddler who roars. I am no match for this. The heart cracks open and forgiveness tumbles out onto the floor.

Today was a melody.
I am still singing. Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!