Tea for Two

 

Thank you guys for your comments yesterday, both here and facebook.  It was a rough day, and today wasn't great either.  After my little pity-party yesterday, what did we do?

We high-tailed it to my mom's, camera and tea party materials in town.  Because, as I've learned, when you feel terrible sometimes you need to rest, but sometimes you need to do.  So we did.

  

I have always loved teacups.  In high school, I told my mom that one day I wanted to start collecting them.  I envisioned a table set with white dinner plates and bits and pieces of different, interesting, funky china wear, and I figured teacups would be a fun place to start.  She remembered this, and when she and my sister threw me a wedding shower years later, she asked each guest to bring a teacup.  I now have a wonderful collection.

One of the guests was our neighbor, sweet Mrs. S, who is now in her 90s.  She is wonderful, the kind of woman who wears pearls and writes you back when you send a card and attaches fresh rosebuds from her garden to gifts and tells funny jokes and is strong and downright sassy when she wants to be.

Have I mentioned before that I am blessed by the people in my life?

She brought me a beautiful Lenox teacup with hand-painted bees and butterflies, which I cherish because it reminds me of the meadow and pond her property and ours share.  I look at that cup and I can smell summer; freshly mown hay and wild roses.  We got married on that property, and it had to be June so the roses would be in bloom.

She gave us a wedding gift of an English tea set, platter and pitcher.  There was a condition, though.  In the note attached she told me that she meant for the set to be used, to be loved, to be held and played with by the hands of baby girls.

Oh, but how did she know?

  

I've taken that sentiment to heart.  After all, why have pretty, nice things if you're not going to use them?  I have all of my teacups sitting out on our dining room hutch, and Bean knows when she comes over that she can have Peter Rabbit tea or hot chocolate or milk or even just a sip of water in a pretty cup.  She loves choosing her cup.  She knows to be careful, and she usually spills, but I don't mind.  Sweet Pea almost always eats her meals out of teacups, too.  I know that one day babies will break my cups, but I don't mind that, either.  I love those cups, but I love better the idea that we are using them, enjoying them, having something pretty and special whenever we want.

  

And so, last night I wanted needed to take pictures, and I wanted needed to watch my babies play.  In about the past 6 weeks or so, Sweet Pea has become a wonderful little play thing to Bean.  Sweet Pea doesn't just sit there any more, she moves and giggles and yells, and Bean is enamored.  And bossy!  After all, what is a big cousin for if not to boss you a little?

  

  

  

  

Actually, I think it's Sweet Pea who is more enamored with Bean.

I love our babies.  I love them so much it hurts me.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

 

Thank goodness for little girls.  We have tea parties all the time, and I can't wait to have them in the fairy
ring this summer when it's in bloom.  Perhaps the fairies will join us.

Side note:  Lest you think our evening was all fun and sparkles...hah! Scroll up, and notice how Sweet Pea's hair looks a little funny? 
Well, when we got to Nana's, I opened the backdoor of the car to find my sweet baby looking pitifully at me (though completely calm
and cool as a cucumber) completely covered in throw up.  Not spit-up, mind you; full-on, lost-my-lunch baby puke, all over the car seat,
her hair, her tutu (good thing I had back-up tea party clothes!), everything.  Like any good 3-year-old, Bean thought this was
fascinating and disgusting all at once.  "'Tan I see da trow-up?!" she asks and comes running down from the deck.  "Ewwww..." she says, then runs along her merry way.  The baby got a bath in the kitchen sink.   

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