I was sitting on the couch nursing Elliora one morning recently when Annalie called to me from the kitchen, “Mom, can I bring you a Pop-Tart?”

“That’s really nice of you to ask, Annalie,” I replied. “Yes, please.”

“Do you want cherry or cinnamon?”

“Cinnamon.”

“Do you want it toasted? I know you like them better toasted, and Daddy showed me how to use the toaster.”

“I like them cold, too, you don’t have to toast mine if you don’t want to.” Annalie reassured me she didn’t mind, and she was toasting hers anyway, so it’d be no trouble. “Okay, if you’re sure, then I’d like mine toasted. You know to put the dial on 2, right?”

“Yes, I know! Daddy showed me how.” I could hear her in the kitchen, getting the box from the cupboard, plugging the toaster in, pressing the lever down, talking to herself as she puttered around. “Where are you guys?…Oh, there you are, haha! Hmm, why won’t this work…oh, I hafta plug it in, duh…”

I heard the toaster pop up a minute later. Shortly after that, Annalie walked into the living room smiling broadly, with my toasted cinnamon Pop-Tart arranged on a napkin (so I could hold the hot Pop-Tart without burning my fingers) on a yellow plate (because yellow is my favorite color).

I am limp with exhaustion from this evening’s drama. Nothing bad happened. Actually, something really great happened: Annalie wrote eight thank-you notes, without complaining, in less than two hours.

Eight thank-you notes.

Less than two hours.

For comparison, it took three weeks for Annalie to write her birthday thank-you notes last May. What was the difference this time? Incentive.

I came up with a plan to offer Annalie a reward for getting her thank-you notes done: a trip to Build-A-Bear. And the quicker she got them done, the bigger her reward would be. Of course, she would have to write the thank-you notes no matter what, but the reward might motivate her to write them with a minimum of complaining and stalling.

I ran this plan by Troy, and he thought it was a good idea. So I drew up a couple of sticker charts and explained the plan to Annalie. If she got all her thank-you notes written by Friday, she’d get a Build-A-Bear. If she could get them done more quickly than that, she could earn an outfit, maybe some shoes, an accessory or two.

“What if I get all my thank-you notes done today? Do I get to go to Build-A-Bear today?” I said we could probably arrange that, but she didn’t have to get them done that fast. She could still get the biggest reward if she got them done by Monday.

Annalie nodded. “Yeah, but will you take me today if I get them done?” I said if she could manage to get all her thank-you notes done in one day, we could certainly go to Build-A-Bear tonight.

I thought there was no way on earth she’d get them all done today, considering how long it’s taken her to get them done in the past, and the drama we had just yesterday over her writing one measly sentence during school.

Annalie was so worried about getting to Build-A-Bear tonight she nearly made herself sick, even though she was working her little heart out and had plenty of time to finish. My mom and I kept telling her we were so amazed at what a great job she was doing, and reassuring her that we could go right after dinner.

Two hours. Eight thank you notes. Fourteen dollars of her own money to buy her new bear some extras. One extremely proud and happy girl.

When Brenda and Bug arrived on Tuesday night, it was already dark outside. Before we all went to bed, Brenda looked out the kitchen window at our dark backyard and mentioned how excited she was to see the autumn trees in the morning. Morning came, and she was not disappointed.

A couple of weeks ago I was worried that the fall color was peaking, that most of the leaves would be brown or gone before Brenda and Bug got here. Since they’re native Californians, they don’t usually get to see the kind of fall color we are blessed with in this part of the country, and I really wanted them to see it.

As it turned out, I was worrying needlessly. There are still plenty of bright red and yellow and orange trees around. When Brenda came upstairs yesterday morning and looked out over our deck, she was quite impressed at the view from our backyard. She even went outside on the deck in bare feet to admire it for a minute before she got too cold in the 45-degree weather and came inside. You can take the girl out of California…

But later that morning, after we ate some breakfast and drank some coffee, we walked to a park near our house to let Annalie and Bug climb and play for a while while we sat and admired the fall color.

On the way home we stopped to gather leaves from a neighbor’s yard, lots of red maple leaves and a few bright yellow ones, so we could press and preserve them by ironing them between wax paper. Brenda has big plans to make some greeting cards to send home to her friends and family.

Then we stopped to play in a giant leaf pile. Isn’t that what giant leaf piles are for?

Annalie and Bug have been having such a blast together. Brenda and I have been marveling at and being very thankful for how well they still play, despite them both being only children (for now) and both having such strong wills and personalities, and despite them only seeing each other a couple of times in the past eight months. I think because they have known each other so long and spent so much time together, they’ve learned how to work out their differences through compromise. Plus they are a lot alike. They both love to use their imaginations and will come up with elaborate make-believe games. Today alone I’ve overheard them hiding from ninjas, running away from home so the bad guys don’t catch them, granting a wish to the princess, and walking their puppies. Yesterday Annalie said to Bug, “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s nice to have my best friend around as a playmate.”

Then at the end of the day, we had meatloaf and mashed potatoes for dinner, at Annalie’s request, and made half a cake for Annalie’s half-birthday. She blew out her candle and then announced that her wish had already come true.

“It did?” I said. “That must have been a great wish. What was it, will you tell us?”

“Sure, since it already came true,” she replied. “I wished that I would have the best half-birthday ever!”