October | 2023 | Good Times with Jess

Wellness. I’m not sure when it became a widespread concept that everyone knows what it means, but BB has more breathing techniques and calm-down strategies than I do.

Wellness isn’t just a concept for her, it’s a class. There’s gym, music, art and wellness.

The closest I may have gotten to it as a kid was a health class, but breathing and mental health were not discussed.

A month ago I had to dismiss BB early for the dentist. She was upset,

“I don’t want to miss Wellness!”

“Why?”

“We’re learning about our Yeti Body.”

“Your Yeti Body?! What’s that?”

“I DON’T KNOW! That’s what we’re going to learn!”

Ah yes. Point taken, but considering the dentist is booked solid for months, Yeti Body will have to wait.

Last spring I stood chatting with a dear friend and her husband, who also have two daughters. The husband mentioned that maybe we should have a girls’ weekend at their condo in New Hampshire.

I’m all for traveling with kids and without Captain, but in this case I’m not sure why I’d leave him behind. I’d rather not be outnumbered.

I voice my hesitation,

“It wouldn’t be that fun taking care of the kids without Captain.”

My friend nods in agreement. Her husband shakes his head,

“No! The two of you, without the kids.”

“Oh! Without the kids?! Yes please!” I’m free all the weekends.

I spent 30 glorious hours away:

Two hour car ride without yelling or tossing anything to the backseat
Gorgeous hikes
Outdoor hot tub
Long delicious dinner out
A sleep in
Uninterrupted coffee
Yoga
Another relaxing two hour drive

And all with great company. I’d be happy to do any one of those things, so to do them all was luxurious. It felt like the definition of wellness, but I’ll run it by BB.

As we got out of the hot tub, I had a moment of concern. We had half an hour to shower and get ready for dinner, but then I realized the only person I had to get ready was me and I’m very cooperative.

When I got home and swept BB into a hug, she asked,

“Were you homesick?”

“Not at all!”

Later I ask BB,

“Did you ever find out what your Yeti Body is?”

“Yes. You get into your Yeti Body when you need to calm down. You smell your soup. You blow on your soup. You smell your soup. You blow on your soup.”

I grab my soup. This is a very effective breathing strategy.

The other day BB came home from school with a story to tell. I’m relaying it to you secondhand and I do not stand behind its accuracy. It should be noted that BB is having the best year yet; she adores her teacher and class.

BB tells me,

“Mrs. Soandso lost her temper today.”

“She did?”

“We were in line and everyone was shouting. She told us a few times to be quiet and no one was listening. Then she yelled ‘SHUTUP!'”

“She did?!?”

“So I turned to my friend L and whispered ‘Mrs. Soandso needs to get into her Yeti Body.'”

You did?!

I really hope BB was this quick with her smart-aleck joke. Her sense of humor makes my heart sing. Maybe with wellness.

The only youngest child in our family is turning 4 next week!

Captain is an oldest sibling. I’m an oldest sibling. BB is the oldest. And RB is the youngest. We don’t understand her plight.

“RB what would you like for your birthday?”

“The same things as BB.”

“The same things as BB?”

“The same Barbies BB has. The same bag.”

BB got a new swim/beach bag for her birthday with an “H” on it. I ask RB,

“You want the same bag, but with an “E” on it?”

“No an “H.””

Right.

Everything that BB does, RB better be able to do too or else she is down in the dumps. RB hasn’t missed a trip to the bus stop yet, despite the disappointment of not boarding too.

RB is very happy to pick out her own clothes, say shorts and a shirt. She’ll be on her way and then boom, BB is in a dress. RB begins to wail,

“I NEED TO CHANGE. I NEED A DRESS TOO!”

Occasionally BB may take into account something about RB and ask for the same, but that usually only applies to candy.

RB, happy and sure of herself, then sees her sister: wearing, doing, being and nothing is right until she can duplicate everything.

When BB got in the pool for her swim-team tryout this summer, RB couldn’t have been madder. She glared at me,

“I’m NOT getting in the pool?!”

“No.”

“I want to race.”

“I know you do.”

Then when BB’s five minute tryout turned into an unanticipated hour practice, I thought RB’s head might explode or that she would jump into the pool anyway. She’s convinced turning 4 is going to solve all her problems.

I’ve got a cake problem. Just like RB couldn’t nail down a color for her coveted beach bag with an “H.” She also couldn’t seem to keep her cake story straight. After many changes, there was a solid two weeks of telling me,

“Chocolate Elsa cake with strawberries. No Anna.”

You’d think she’d identify with Anna.

Yesterday I ordered a chocolate Elsa cake. After school I told RB,

“I ordered your cake.”

“What is it?”

“Chocolate Elsa cake.”

“I don’t like chocolate.”

“What?!”

“It’s ok if you got it wrong mom.”

“I didn’t get it wrong!”

“I want white cake. It’s ok you got it wrong.”

But is it really ok?

I recruit Captain. He corners her in the living room,

“So what kind of cake did you want for your birthday?”

“Mom got it wrong, but that’s ok. I don’t like chocolate.”

I didn’t get it wrong! But I sure did call Market Basket and change it.

For Hanukkah last year BB asked for a watch. I took the path of least resistance and got one for RB too. It’s analog. I’m not even sure BB knows how to use it, never mind RB.

BB slipped hers on the other morning, an impromptu fashion choice. RB hasn’t paid hers any attention since she unwrapped it nine months ago. I haven’t seen anyone find something faster. RB swaggered to the bus stop, her upside down watch swinging on her arm.

And when I dropped her off at school, it was still on her arm. I may have turned it right side up, not that it matters.

When I picked her up that afternoon, I was surprised to see she was still wearing it. She told me,

“My friends asked me why I was wearing this.”

“Why are you wearing it?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed with the attitude of her big sister,

“So I know what time it is.”

Duh.

It’s almost birthday time. I did not buy her a bag with her sister’s name on it.

At school RB wrote her whole name, not just an “E,” for the very first time. I congratulated her. She beamed from ear to ear and told me,

“I wrote an “H” for BB too!”