Fancy Feet

Unfortunately for Jack, his foot size and shape put him more in the ugly step-sister category than the Cinderella category and I think he would get a big fat fail if the prince came along to try and get his pudgy toes into any sort of glass slipper... Nonetheless, he sure is enjoying these shoes and they really makes his outfit, no?























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Density

I don't know if all kids lack common sense or if mine are just particularly dense at times. Today, for instance, Jack was hell bent on zooming around the playground with a dump truck. Head down, he zeroed in on a little stump/stool thing and raced his truck at it, with no intention of stopping until there was a crash. Problem was, his big ol' noggin was ahead of the truck, so guess what hit first? Oh, and at the last minute, he picked his head up to watch the crash, so he bonked his nose right into the stump stool. Brilliant. I didn't fully realize what was going to happen until it was too late. And the other one, well, how does one not realize that if you walk around with your shirt over your face, you will almost certainly trip and fall? Especially, the second time in one day? Seriously?
As lovable as their antics are, it did make me wonder where the lack of genius started. And, as with many of our kids' wacky characteristics, the apples didn't fall far from the tree...
A last minute bowling trip, at dinner time! for instance, with a two and a half year old and a four and a half year old? That might qualify as lacking common sense (especially when the littlest man insists on carrying his own ball and the older lady wants to use the alley as a stage)...



The hippy dancing at the Freemont Festival (we skipped the naked parade the day before) though? That's cool...

It's The End Of The World As We Know It

You can call me crazy but I'm excited for the fairly loosey goosey summer that begins promptly at 1 pm on Friday afternoon (hear that Mother Nature?). Really, you can call me crazy no matter what you think about my summer plans -- it's true; reality and I become less acquainted with each other with every passing day and I'm cool with that. My loose screws and I have a few weeks with just our normal (really, mostly Molly's) extracurriculars -- yoga (have I mentioned her sainted yoga teacher before? If I haven't, well, I should. This lady gets a gaggle of kids to be calm, focused, and DO yoga. It's amazing for my less-than-focused first-born), gymnastics, library -- and some planned play dates before my parents come and we go on vacation. When we get back, and before we go on our easy coast pilgrimage, we are only swapping gymnastics for swimming lessons. When you consider that any kid activity lasts only 45 minutes max, it's really not a lot. But these are the types of summers that I remember and loved -- the super relaxed, spontaneous, see-where-the-spirit-takes-you summers. I am fully, fully aware of the luxury of this set-up and I also know the incredible attachments that friends of mine had at camps (and we may very well do that some day), but for me, this year, at this time, this is a plan that makes me smile. The best part is that Molly and Jack look at me like I have two heads (which I may. The mirror and I are becoming less acquainted as well) when I talk about summer vacation. It's such a foreign concept to them since this is their first year of real, structured school. That point was driven home when, despite this adorable little end of the year, final class that Jack's teacher very clearly talked about on Monday, he was still wondering why I wasn't bringing him to school today. Luckily, my boy likes to hang out at the train tracks so off went to see the big diesels roll past us this morning and all was good again. Annnnnnnnd, I'm off track (ha ha)... This is all to say that while my little people aren't really aware of what the next two and a half months will look like, I have a sense and I'm really looking forward to slower mornings, wacky adventures, drop-off summer preschool (just kidding. No I'm not.), and spirit-moving good times. This isn't the right recipe for everyone, I know that and am all good with whatever people have up their sleeves, but as long as Seattle delivers on its sunshiny summer months (yes, for real), it's right up my alley.

Just to drive the point home for future Jack... Here's his last day:



Please notice that Jack has no shoes on and that his friend, Margaret, also has no shoes on. Jack is what you would call a bad influence in the clothing and footwear department. Not only does he regularly try and make circle time be dance off with your pants (and shoes) off parties, he instigates others to do the same. It's great to witness him bending down, trying to pull other kids' shoes off their feet.




Also notice that Jack surrounds himself with ladies. He has no use for boys his own age, though he adores older boys, but loooooves the lassies. Too bad he outweighs most of them by at least five pounds so his "hugs" turn into "tackles".




A blurry picture of Jack receiving his end-of-school necklace from his teacher. He did, maybe, three pieces of artwork all year long. Three might be a stretch. The necklace-making, though? He was all over that like white on rice and made two. Who knows.



Proudly showing off his necklace and soon-to-mangled-by-love flower.



Every good year deserves a chocolate-covered final ending. Here's to summer!

Deep Thoughts By Molly D.

Molly has reached that age where the big, thoughtful questions are flying at us... or, I guess, it's really more that she expects the depths of our answers to change. She is asking about things more thoughtfully, not just spitting out the automatic "why, why, why" questions (and to be honest, she didn't do a lot of that. She's always been more of an analyzer and internalizer not a rabid curiosity seeker... that would be Jack) of toddler-hood; we're at this point where real, more technical, richer answers are what are called for. One area that has really piqued her interest is reproduction. From start to finish. From zygote (and really, to what, ahem, comes before that) to a full blown little Suzy or Bobby popping out, she wants to know what happens and what everything is called. It's made for some... interesting?... conversations, ones where she gets to call out Fallopian tubes with enthusiasm. Don't let anyone cross our paths with twins or triplets, either, because she will school those babes on the playground about what happened when that egg was fertilized. Good times (and I have a great book recommendation if anyone else is curious about it out there).

The other topic is heartbreaking and so utterly unfortunate and so much more even than all that. Seattle has experienced several rounds of violence lately with an unusual number of shootings and deaths in less typical places, and thus a big rash of media coverage. One of the shooting victims was the father of a former classmate of Molly's, who was tragically in the wrong place at the wrong time and killed by crossfire at 4:30 in the afternoon. This little girl still goes to Molly's school in the afternoon class (and it's a tiny, close-knit school) and so this has, understandably, profoundly affected a lot of the parents and her two teachers. I know the little girl whose dad died, though I don't know the parents. The kids were in the car, as were their grandparents, stopped at a stoplight, when two young men started firing at each other on a street corner. The dad was hit and killed, the kids ran for help and their grandfather held his son as he died. This has, naturally, been all over the news and dominated a lot of parent conversation in her school community as people reached out to support one another. Kids, of course, pick up on all of this and whether you're directly explaining or they're trying to make sense of bits of pieces they overhear or sense from tense moms and dads, and they form their own version of the story. We hadn't talked too directly about it with Molly, and she hadn't asked, though we acknowledged that people were feeling sad right now because so-and-so's dad had died. Today, though, while Molly, Jack, and I were playing Play-doh, she came out with "XX's dad was shot and killed by a gun". Wrong kid, it turns out, but the right story. She didn't attach a lot of emotion to it, and was more interested in the role of the gun and the people who shot it, rather than the death itself, but she really had a lot of the story down. I know her teachers are being very cognizant about directing questions back to parents, but nonetheless, it's a big event in the kids' world and it's natural to want to talk about it. She really wanted the nuts and bolts of what happened -- who was the blame, what had happened to the shooters, etc. I did the best I could to answer, appropriately, mindful of the two year old ears that were also listening, though it was hard for me not to get emotional about the whole thing on many levels.  

These bigger questions can feel daunting to answer sometimes. A few things have saved me from totally flubbing it up, I think (although, admittedly, the first question about babies had me a little floored and only time with really tell if I've mucked everything up). First, it's to listen to what the kid is asking. The topic can feel overwhelming but if you can let their questions guide your answers, then you don't have to offer a whole canned speech on the birds and the bees or explain every who, what, where, and when on the first go-round. Secondly, kids don't always attach the same emotions that adults to do big events. Death often is funny to little people or they may have figured out coping skills on their very own and don't need you to prescribe their feelings or what they should be worried about. I think what scares them the most is when people shush them or won't at least try and talk to them about something. Then it just feels scary. And finally, a friend of mine reminded me that if you can answer the little questions, they'll keep coming back for the bigger ones next month, next year, when they are scary teenagers. Although the balance will inevitably and very normally shift, for now, I like that Molly gets her answers mostly from me and John and not from Billy Whoozy Whatzit down the street. Or if Billy wants to give Molly some information, she can feel free to check the veracity of his facts with either of her infinitely wise (aren't we all?) and sagacious (um, right?) parents. Molly was over the dying conversation in a few minutes today, pondering (or not) the few questions she asked, but if this whole thing goes the way of the baby-making, she will definitely be back for more. It's not joyful to talk about some of these things but they don't pay us the big bucks for the fun stuff, right?

What a reminder it was today, too, that these heavy questions pop out at the least expected times. It was a really good kick in the rear end to remind me that sitting down and really playing with these guys, even though it's so tempting to do a million other things since they're entertained with Play-doh or coloring books (yes, I give my kids coloring books and no, I don't think they stifle their creativity), is when the real conversations happen. It's those utterly unplanned moments that deliver the biggest connections. Hello Parenting 101, it's nice to be back with you. I'm sure we'll continue to talk through some of this stuff over the coming weeks and months. Unless I sense that some of these issues are bothering Molly (nothing seems to bother Teflon Jack right now), I'll let her come to me and ask me stuff when she's ready. We've got a lot of unplanned time ahead of us this summer... we'll see how I'm faring in a couple of weeks...

 These are the other things that fascinate the crazy tornado right now... 

Superhero madness. We've since added a mask to the ensemble. She's rocking it. This little obsession is also very likely where some of the "bad guy" questions come from. Thanks Batman, I really appreciate it. I'm ordering Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth next week.

And being a one-woman jam band.  

And hey, guess what Jack's into? Eric and Mary's train track is such a nice change of pace from the one at our house, and at school, and anywhere else we can find one...

Okay, he also does like to be a little dancing groupie to that little jam band...