Mowing

Mowing the lawn (also known as 'mowlawning' or 'using the mowlawner' around here) is a serious event in this house.  It's a two day marathon of sweat and sneezes.  For Cara, it's an emotional roller coaster.  It's fantastically exciting to begin with.  To run and play outside, following the mower is entertainment supreme...it's the one time when Mommy lets you scream as much as you like!  Then terror strikes as I actually start the mower...it's loud enough to frighten even the most prepared of little girls.  After one round of the yard, it's back to bliss...until the most horrible of tragedies occurs...mowing down the 'sunflowers' (ie dandelions), her precious friends.  Tears, pleadings, it's drama of operatic proportions.  (Yes, it's just as shocking each time I mow!).  Have you ever tried to console a weeping small child, yelling as you mow the lawn?  I have.  It's hard work.  After an appropriate period of mourning for the slain sunflowers, she's back on cloud nine, skipping, sometimes singing, having the time of her life.  Unless you have to change directions to trim around a tree, of course, that brings flashes of horror to the delicate emotions of a girl.  She quickly rebounds and enjoys nature for another five minutes or so of nature before deciding this is a boring activity.  Why does it take so long?  She usually makes a five minute speech explaining how boring this is, following her sweating panting mother the whole time, then finally decides to go play.  Have you ever listened to a small-girl-five- minute-run-on sentence speech while you mow the lawn?  I do on a regular basis.  If it's this emotional now, what will it be like as a teenager? Probably lonely...I'm gonna miss having a talking girl follow me everywhere some day!