Big Tolly and Little Tolly

Father and son "watching the game."
We've taken to calling Scott "Big Tolly."

Design Stars

Not sure how this happened, but there was a room makeover in our laundry room this week. It started with a broken washer and dryer. While the room was empty, waiting for new appliances, I thought about repainting the tired old yellow color of the room. I had the paint deck in my car, and I started asking opinions on the way to dance classes. Suddenly, the boring drives became highly animated discussions about light refraction and complimentary colors. Each short drive yielded more progress toward the makeover vision. Truly, we have a houseful of Vern Yip disciples in the making. Golda, Ruby and Lexie chose the color of the washer and dryer, after Scott laid out the choices as "BYU Blue or Utah Red." (Do you think he wanted the red?) The girls also came up with the design plan of the room and the wall colors. White for the base coat and crimson, tangerine, green and turquoise for the stripes. My job was to buy the paint. Ari and Free put in a little time on the stripes, and Coco accessorized with storage containers. Organizing is her calling in life. As soon as I said "organize the laundry room," she showed up with a car full of bins and boxes.

I love how the room turned out! The design starlets had flames of creativity shooting out of their heads all week. It was fun to watch them go and to see the results of their colorful minds. Well executed, girls! In a few years, I'll be able to say I knew you "when!"

Reading Between the Lines

A month ago, my mom didn't know how to text message. Now she's all over it. The interesting thing is, when someone's thoughts are pared down to the length of a tweet, you see their personality distilled. My mom's body of work, in English teacher terms, i.e. the text messages she's sent me this week, give an idea of her personality.

-I just went to a big Halloween store. Really wanted to be snow white but didn't find my size. nothing for your party.
-I'm going to b a harlequin. done with ugly scary cause I have enough of that w/o a costume. Already have the hat.
-What r u going to be? What about the kids? Not too soon to become obsessed.
-FYI: 1 o'clock on npr is "what babies think."
-Collin walking home. Xanthe still asleep.
-Oh goodie! we'll stay till 5:30. Traj is here.
-I just ordered you 2 books cheap but to the point I think.
-I can take g. Abe didn't wake up but e is about to call for x. (huh?)

You don't notice it when you're receiving one message at a time, but read between the lines and you'll see why everyone likes my mom so much. She's always researching books we might like, driving the kids to lessons, having one or two or ten little popsicle-mongers at her house, getting involved in stuff we like, coming up with solutions to my myriad parenting dilemmas. We are so lucky to have Coco and Bill next door! And so glad they finally learned how to text! LOL...

Entourage

I had to beg and badger, but Jennie and Ryan finally let us have their kids for a few days! Because of our temporarily blended family, Collin had a brother, a sister and three cousins to accompany him to his first "real" day of kindergarten, and another cousin, Jakey, to meet him at the school door. How's that for an entourage? It took the crew an inordinately long time to get anywhere due to custody battles over the various modes of transportation. When the scooters and bikes finally wobbled up the street, Lexie and Ruby giving Collin a starting push on his bike, it was a beautiful sight. Like birds taking flight. Collin, the newest bird, had plenty of wind beneath his wings today. He was very proud of his entourage, and rightfully so. These birds of a feather have each others' backs.

The Only Thing We Have to Fear...

I picked up a parenting magazine and was bombarded with warnings. Article on a 6-year-old with arthritis. Letter to the editor about a kid who broke his leg on a slide. Ad for a group called Parents for Window Blind Safety. Something cautioning against Vitamin D deficiency, another one listing the dangers of sun exposure. An article by a mom who was proud of herself for getting all her kids through childhood with no broken bones. Is that success?

I was so annoyed with all the fear mongering, I sent the kids to play in the gully. Without sunscreen. Without a GPS device, cell phone, first aid kit or helmet. They came back because it was too hot. Have you heard of the "Wussification of America?" Well, I know what that looks like! You see it when you force a kid to spend 10 minutes in the sun without a popsicle.

We have a clubhouse in our/my parents' backyard that my dad built. It has a big deck on top without railings, windows with no glass that look out on a 15-foot drop, and numerous hornets' nests in the ceiling. One time, I built a ladder with my brothers so we wouldn't have to climb trees and jump from the branches to get to the second floor of the clubhouse. While I was climbing up the ladder, a rung broke and I cut my arm on a protruding nail. I still have a three-inch scar.

When my kids discovered the clubhouse hidden in the scrub oak, Coco and Bill decided the little structure was a deathtrap not fit for their grandchildren. They paid to have it renovated with railings and a floor that wasn't rotting through. (Thanks, Clint!) There is little to no chance of getting hurt now, but I wonder if that's 100% positive. Where are these coddled little kids going to learn to try and fail, to get hurt and get up, and to fend for themselves? When I asked my dad about why the clubhouse used to have windows we could have fallen out of, he said, "I hoped my kids weren't dumb enough to fall out of a window." Kids were given a lot more opportunities to test their mettle a generation ago. Golda almost called DCSF Tuesday when Scott suggested she walk the half mile from ballet to voice lessons. I mean, there are traffic hazards along that route, not to mention exhaust fumes, UV rays, crazy people at the bus stop and rated R posters in the video store window. I should know. I used to walk that same street four days a week from school to ballet. The only danger I fell victim to was spending too much money on candy at RB's One-Stop.

I think I need to book a weekend for my kids with Survivorman. I'll prepare them by letting them go outside without knee and elbow pads, holding scissors with the tips up. Running, even. Or walking fast.

Ballet Moms

When Esmae suggested playing "Mommies," Xanthe said, "Yeah! And we have to set up our ballet studio. Because moms go to ballet." The two little moms proceeded to play in their ballet studio, teaching their dolls to dance. As the girls did their leaps and gallops, I reflected on the moms who taught me ballet. I thought about Clytie, who taught me for many years, and who still teaches my girls. As kids, we only saw Clytie in her teacher role. Once in awhile, an ambulance or fire truck would go by the studio, its siren wailing. Clytie would look nervously at her watch, and we students would see a glimpse of the mom in our teacher, wondering where her children were as the sirens screamed by. Now I do the exact same thing.

Xanthe's ballet teacher took a moment yesterday to tell me how much she loves Xanthe. Xanthe was at the ballet recital rehearsals just two weeks after we got her home three years ago. Her teacher, Lisa, remembers that quiet 13-pound one-year-old. She got tears in her eyes when she told me how special Xanthe is, and how far she has come. These are the moms whom our girls emulate. Marianne, who could become a mom at any moment, and still teaches class. Julie, who made Ruby feel so comfortable last year as a broken-armed buffoon. Sarah, who has hundreds of little girls who all think they're her favorite. Jennifer, Golda's pointe teacher, whom Golda admires already. Clytie, always quick to praise our accomplishments and bring out the best in each girl.

I'm thankful that moms go to ballet. If my girls grow up to be just like their dance teachers, I will feel like they have succeeded. Teaching their dolls first position is just the first step.

Misconceptions

"In the beginning, the moon was really, really big and that's what gave Jesus the idea to make all the planets." That's what Jakey told Freestone, and Freestone agreed.
"Yeah! And he made Jupiter first."
Could be. Seems like there are quite a few misconceptions about Jesus out there. Just today, I had this conversation with small theologians:

Xanthe: Henry found a bird that is dead.
Me: OK. Let's see. How about if we bury it?
Henry (clutching the dead bird): We can't do that! He couldn't breathe.
Me: Yeah, but he's dead. So...
Henry: But he's coming back to life when Jesus gets here!
Me: What are we going to do with him until Jesus gets here?
Henry: How about put him in a nest so another bird can watch him?

There's got to be some kind of object lesson in there somewhere. Maybe these kids know exactly what they're talking about. I wouldn't discount their ideas, that's for sure. Kids, in their innocence, are the closest thing to heaven there is.

Success!

It was all a big success, the first day of school. Scott and I both went with Golda to her first day of junior high. After allowing us one picture outside the school, she fled through the front doors, hoping nobody saw her with her parents. I had a little anxiety attack when I went to orientation with her last week. I remembered my jr. high experience: feeling ugly, not being able to find my classes, wearing Izod when all the cool kids were wearing Polo, not knowing which music was in. I was a baby. My parents hadn't told me there was music written after Chopin and Beethoven. I thought Chicago was just a city and that U2 was spelled "You Too."

Golda shared none of my angst and had a great first day. I felt more comfortable walking the littles to elementary school at my alma mater, a block away. Before we left, Freestone had to get Star in a picture so she wouldn't feel left out. Star loves school. She sneaks over to recess any chance she gets. Freestone was immersed in French from the moment he walked in the classroom. Not wanting to break the "French only" rule, I said, "A toute a l'heure, Freestone! Je t'aime!" He looked at me like I was nuts. Jakey reported to his mom later, "Our teacher CAN speak English, but she WON'T!" It will be fun to see how the immersion class turns out. We're totally committed for the long haul, so one way or another, Freestone will learn French.

Araceli and Ruby both have wonderful teachers whom they are familiar with. It was an early out day, so we had a chance to regroup after school and get homework, practicing and reading done before the 4:00 lesson marathon started. This is going to be a great year. I've implemented just a couple of rules. 1. Breakfast together with everybody at 7:15. 2. no TV during the week. 3. No screen time of any kind for me or anyone else during after school hours. We'll see how that works. What is your most important rule during the school year, and how do you get it to stick?! Good luck, all you school-age families! As my dad always says, "Study hard!"

China Friends, Spread the Word

Have you heard about Half the Sky's one-time opportunity to find homes for these three little girls with complex heart conditions? If you're familiar with Half the Sky, you know that they promised the Chinese government that they would not get involved in adoptions. The government has given Half the Sky permission to intervene on behalf of these three girls. Maybe someone out there feels one of them is part of their forever family...

Incidentally, I just found out through their website that they might have progress reports on Xanthe from her orphanage, since Yiyang has had a Half the Sky program since 2005. Has anybody requested progress reports on their child from Half the Sky? Just curious!

The End

...And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
-William Shakespeare

Yes, yes, it's true that I'll no longer be under constant siege by four-foot-tall humans. Lunch will be easier, there will be fewer carseats to buckle, I'll have a moment to breathe.

Still, the night before school starts is always melancholy for me. I'm filled with sorrow bordering on despair, contemplating how short the summer was. Summer is when childhood happens. During the long summer days as those little bodies bronze and freckle, their minds are turned loose to wander wherever they may. Tonight there was a summer storm, and a rainbow. In the technicolor light of dusk, the kids worked together in the gutter to build a dam out of sticks and mud. It was their last collaboration before they go to their separate classrooms, even separate schools tomorrow.

I know, I know, the routine will be good. I'll be able to get my mind back on its feet, I'll have time to finish my jobs. The kids are excited about their imminent adventures.

But the thought of the pool water sitting so still under the August sun, bereft of splashes and squeals...it doesn't seem right. As always, I go reluctantly into Fall, looking back regretfully at the green mountains, drinking in the clear blue sky and straining to hear the last cricket's song.