Stages

Xanthe leads a pretty exciting life. She flits from preschool to playgroup and everything in between, and everywhere she goes, there's a snack. Today I said to her, "Xanthe, go get dressed because you have preschool, then you get to play at Bronwyn's house. Then you have French playgroup, then a birthday party."

Golda, doing homework nearby, groaned. She said, "I have a huge algebra test, then ballet, then homework and practicing, then a band concert and jazz. And I have to finish a ten-page packet on Africa worth 148 points."

Yes, being four sounds a lot more fun than being in seventh grade. Jr. High is the no-man's land between writing letters to the tooth fairy and not having to take algebra tests anymore. Xanthe's successes are so quaint compared to Golda's. I remember one of Golda's small triumphs from first grade. She had just started playing the flute and really wanted to play in the class talent show. She hadn't learned a whole song yet, but she practiced the three notes she knew and got up in front of the class. She announced, "My name is Golda and I will now play Mary Had." Not Mary Had a Little Lamb. Just Mary Had. She played the three notes and sat down. That was a major deal for her back then. Golda wishes her practicing were still that easy and her homework still involved rainbows and brand-new Crayola crayons and lots and lots of glue and glitter.

To make up for the dearth of glue and glitter in Golda's life, we stopped for Kaysville Theatre popcorn on the way home from jazz tonight. All that buttery goodness melted away a week's worth of stress. Not to mention the fact that tomorrow is the end of the term and all the work is done and turned in and all the tests are over. That's an accomplishment worth celebrating, no matter how old you are. Well done, kid.