Summer Reflections

This past weekend was our last "beach" weekend for the season. Tomorrow is the first day of school. Skylar will start second grade, and my baby, Fiona, starts kindergarten. They are overjoyed tonight, antsy, anxious, nervous, excited, giddy and curious to know who will be in their classes that we haven't already figured out. But tonight brings a bittersweet feeling for me. I'm excited for both of them and the wonder of what this school year will bring. But I'm feeling a little sad, and a little sentimental. After all, my babies aren't babies anymore.

There are several things I've noticed this summer, so I think I should post them here for good measure and long memory.

Skylar Kelsey, age 6 and three quarters...
Skylar is still my sweet baby. Her eyes can sear right through me. Her smile -- although now a mish mash of baby and grown up teeth, some fully showing, others just making their way through -- lights up a room. Her giggle is infectious. Like her mother, she's a sensitive girl, very attuned to how we're feeling, and she's my best snuggle bunny. This summer more than ever I've noticed she shows affection often and oddly. She shows her emotions in a physical way. A poke in the side, a gentle whack on the arm, a little shake of the arm, a driveby smack on the rear. In making new friends, she's much more passive, tending to be more the follower than the leader.

Skylar is incredibly smart, but she has a very short attention span. As she gets older, it becomes more obvious that she needs both a lot of one on one attention, but also a lot of help staying focused and motivated. She does not like to sit down and do anything -- summer workbooks, practice math, telling time exercises, counting money. She sporadically reads books. She's a whirling dirvish. Yet, somehow, she is incredibly observant...she misses nothing -- be it a verbal uttering or a visual cue -- she's right there to notice. She's cautious, and tends to worry about a lot. She wants to help with everything.

As a budding gymnast and thanks to two weeks of gymnastics camp, she spends the majority of her time on her head, doing flips, cartwheels, splits, kickovers, backwards bridges and handstands. And by God, I think the girl has bigger, more toned muscles than I do -- all over her body.

Skylar is becoming a young lady. She'll be 7 in December, and she's definitely easing into the age -- but more like I eased into braces with rubberbands and headgear. She rolls her eyes at us. She's trying desperately to make her own way, make her own decisions and assert her will more than ever. Her hearing is becoming more and more selective. And she now stands with her arms folded across her chest, as if to say, "I'm so over the both of you." Her latest buzz phrase is "I don't always have to do what you say." She's desperate to get her ears pierced. She begs for high heeled shoes. She's totally over wearing cute little girl outfits. She's totally into pre-teen privacy. Check out the sign she has made for her bedroom door.


Fiona Ireland, age 4 and eleven twelfths...
Fiona is my cheeky baby. She speaks with facial expressions. Her eyes reveal a very deep and pensive girl. Her sweet lips guard a cherubic smile and often curl into a feigned scowl, just for effect. Her laugh is from the gut, bold and deep, quick and eternal. Her sense of humor is quick, sharp and yes, a bit sarcastic. She loves to tease anyone. She is extremely well-mannered, with a "please" and "thank you" on the tip of her tongue at all times. Her personality is magnetic, and it seems everyone wants to be around her. She quickly makes friends. She wears her emotions on her sleeve, quick to lash out when she's unhappy, but incredibly warm and caring...quick to offer a hug, pat you on the back or just hold your hand if she senses you're sad. She's incredibly curious. She asks questions about everything. She notices a lot. She draws her own conclusions, and offers her own thoughts on things she sees. Just as any budding kindergartener does, she's drawing distinctions, making connections and trying desperately to determine why things are the way they are. She's a definite leader -- quick to take over a playground, for example, the minute she sets foot on it. Everyone follows her around, yet, ironically, she rarely looks behind to see who's there. She's confident, secure and sure of who she is...and she perfectly content to be her own person on her own terms.

Fiona is I guess what you call seriously smart. Her vocabulary is sophisticated and sharp. Her imagination is incredibly vivid and active. One minute she's a mermaid, swimming the oceans and solving problems...then she's a fairy, whisking through the air visiting friends and animals...until she becomes a princess, singing love songs and waiting for her prince to come. She is incredibly content to be on her own, lost in her worlds, nary a care of who is watching. She can sit for an hour and entertain herself. And we she does, we hear her talking non-stop with imaginary friends, to her animals at the tea party, to her dolls in the carriage. She sings little songs, whispers secrets and makes sweet little sound effects for every adventure. And what strikes me is how deeply engaged she gets with her fantasies, with how intensely she's living every moment. You can tell that everything she experiences and does she experiences and does with intensity. She has very few fears. She crafted a sign for her door this summer, too.

A right young but accomplished rider, she's incredibly at ease around horses. One horse in particular, even on his fussiest days, seems to find comfort when Fiona's around. This summer she has, at just 4 years old, been tacking, steering and trotting on her own. We imagine this is one sport that will cost us dearly.

Fiona struggles with being the baby. She's only 21 months younger than Skylar, and sometimes, she fancies there no difference at all. She wants to wear make-up, jewelry and high heeled shoes (like her sister desperately wants to do, too). She doesn't understand what it means to be younger, because she's always desperately trying to be just like her sister. She likes to test boundaries and our patience. She likes to police her sister's every move. But she still cares how Mom and Dad feel about what she's doing, and always comes back to apologize and steal a hug -- like reassurance that everything's copacetic.

Milestones...
- Both Skylar and Fiona learned to ride their bikes this summer without training wheels. Skylar admittedly a little late; Fiona, no surprise, a little early.

- Skylar lost 3 teeth this summer. Fiona desperately wished to lose just one.

- Both have become quite good swimmers. Skylar a doggie paddler; Fiona a little back floater. Aimee and I have become those parents at the beach who can sit and read a book and not constantly be following children around.

And so we let another summer pass. But this time, I feel like it's really been different. For all of us. We all have changed this summer. And we're all, I think, still trying to get used to our new "us"es. For anyone who's reading, cherish every moment with your children, and notice every detail. Because if you don't, they might end up a little unfamiliar to you.

Cape Cod Memories

The in Progress family finally took a vacation and it was a terrific week. We're probably the only family in Connecticut that hasn't packed it all in at some point and headed to Cape Cod, so we bit the bullet and rented a house in Chatham and it was well worth it!

It's really so great to take time off, spend time with the whole family together and undistracted and enjoy the things that make life awesome. We spent the entire week doing things we rarely take the time to do, including:
-going to the beach every day
-digging for sandcrabs
-riding bikes (6.5 miles in one ride for this out-of-shape dad!)
-twirling sparklers on a night other than the 4th of July
-toasting marshmallows on the gas stove to make S'mores on a rainy night
-playing board games (Blokus), card games (Phase 10) and lawn games (badminton)
-playing mini golf and real golf

Layered in with some things we often enjoy, like:
-good wine
-grilling
-shopping
-reading (I devoured and recommend "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy

Some highlights of the trip:

Packing the car and bikes!


Wave bathers!


Building! (of course, we're a LEGO family)


My personal favorite way to relax: the beach nap with wet child wrapped in a towel and snuggling.


Gas stove S'mores


And just had to share the sisterly love (check those faces) after one week of togetherness!

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Last night we took the girls to their first baseball game -- a Minor League team not far from here. My older daughter's school had a special family night, and we got 4 tickets behind home plate for $20 -- cheaper than a trip to McDonald's or to the movies.

A couple of things I noticed last night that made me go hmmm:

My baby is a big girl now.
Skylar's best friend's family ended up in our row right next to us, and she got to sit next to her and she had a blast. She kept spying other friends, pointing and waving. I watched her singing and dancing, whispering secrets and hugging her little friends from school. She'll always be my baby girl, but my how she is changing.

Little sisters sometimes get a raw deal.
A four year-old's idea of a good time isn't sitting in one seat for several hours. My youngest was, you guessed it, b-o-r-e-d and so over the ballgame in such a short amount of time. But I think she endured for our sake, because she could tell we were having a good time, and for that, I love her even more. What's more, she DESPERATELY wanted her big sister and her friends to accept her into their little circle of fun, and she kept getting turned away. One of the friends actually did include her in a group hug at one point, and you could tell Fiona was overjoyed. We had a little chat about it on the way home, and explained that her sister loves her, but sometimes she needs to have her own time, too.

Rituals are some of the most powerful things in the world.
Perhaps one of the best and most memorable things you can do for a child is provide family rituals, or instill a sense of tradition. Last night, stepping into that park, I was moved. I remembered all of the times I went to a game with my dad or with my cousins. I made a beeline for the counter to order a hot dog, a bag of peanuts and a beer. We got the girls cotton candy and M&Ms and I did it without even thinking. Skylar and I sat side by side shelling peanuts and it almost moved me to tears. In 30 years, will she take her kids to the game and grab a bag of peanuts and think of me?

Will I have a legacy?
My daughter's principal, Mr. Nolan, is retiring this year. He is an amazing man. He knows every single child's name, without hesitation, who goes to his school. Last year, when my girl started kndergarten half days, I remember we went in for a special open house night just two weeks into school, and as we were heading down the hallway, he waved and smiled from ear to ear and said "Hey, Skylar! How are you?" and shook her hand. I was amazed. There was a tribute party for Mr. Nolan at school the other day, and my daughter came home, clearly upset, and she buried her head in the pillow, sobbing heavily, and she said she was sad beause she was going to miss Mr. Nolan. I was fascinated. Last night, when Mr. Noland arrived, four sections of a baseball park erupted in claps, squeals and children, reaching their hands out, waving, pointing and purely overcome with joy at the sight of Mr. Nolan. And he beamed, and smiled and waved, and shook as many hands as he could. I was left wondering: who cares when I walk into a room? Do I need to work harder to find the kind of joy that comes, from, for example, hundreds of children getting excited just to see me? Or is it easier than I think?

Funny how you go to see a game and end up seeing so much more.

Tales of a Preschool Graduation

My youngest daughter graduated from preschool on Friday. I can't even begin to post right now about how it seems impossible that she's off to kindergarten next year, so I'll save that for another time and instead give you a glimpse of how my 4 year-old operates.

Here she is during the processional.

Now here she is sitting between two friends. Notice dude on the right isn't at all bored.

She then decided to take her cap off and throw it on the floor. She was the only child to remove her cap. Of course, my wife was furious and gesturing and mouthing to her to put it back on, like some crazy mime. My daughter got the death eyes and the stern tight lips several times. I quietly said, "Stop it. She's not going to put it back on if she sees you reacting like that." She simply looked at my wife and smirked and shook her head no. (and I thought it was awesome but I didn't tell my wife that.)

So, after my wife gave up and they were calling names, my daughter quickly put her cap back on, then walked over to get her diploma. I suppose she was bored and figured it would throw a little cheek, again, to mom. But mom was elated.

Sorry, my dear wife, she decided to take it off again and throw it on the floor. The only child to do so.

Again, my wife was trying to tell her to put it back on, but she refused, and walked the recessional without her cap and with her head held high. She also refused to look in our direction for a picture opportunity. ;-)

When all was said and done, she was happy to pose for pictures, just not with her cap, and was thrilled to have graduated. We gave her a flower and she beamed..."No one has ever given me a flower before! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Things I Didn't Even Know I Knew

I was recently reading a story from a fascinating book called I Thought My Father was God, a compilation of short stories from National Public Radio's "National Story Project" that unlocked a swirl of memories I didn't even know were tucked away in the brain.

I had an incredibly vivid flash of what my grandmother's silverware felt like in my hands. It was heavy. It had a deeply carved and intricate pattern to it. And I remembered how I used to run my young fingers along the handles of the knife, especially, to feel the flowers etched in silver. Which then led me to recall how that silver on the table meant it was a special occasion. And how the dining room table in her small apartment would be stretched to its max with leaves and a small children's table was set alongside so we all felt like we were eating together. And Gram also had these brightly colored stretchy terry cloth "coozies" for the highball glasses, which were etched with the family monogram, that we used to love to put on the glasses because it made them feel nice. And then I thought of the homemade chocolate sauce she made for topping vanilla ice cream -- alway just vanilla ice cream at Gram's house. That sauce was the highlight of the year -- the sweet, smooth and sometimes gritty taste, heated just perfectly, and pooled over the top of each dish.

And that's how we knew something was special -- the heavy, carved silver, the stretched out table, the terry cloth coozies, the monogramed highballs, the homemade chocolate sauce for vanilla ice cream. No one ever said it was special, we just felt it. The carving in the knife. The crammed in close feeling at the long dining table. The nub of the terry cloth stretchy. The sweet sugary grit of the sauce.

Most surprising to me...I didn't know any of it meant something to me...or correction, that it means something to me -- because it's still right here, vivid in my brain.

So I wonder, what do Mom in Progress and I do now that our girls will recall, for no reason at all, that makes them stop, awestruck, and relive a special moment. I suppose it's the things we don't even recognize, that require no thought or planning, no special recognition or need for words. The things that are there, that have meaning, even though not defined. And that's really part of the beauty of life...of being a parent...of being a child. There's a power and a mystery far beyond that sometimes, someday, sneaks up and makes itself known.

And my, how sweet that is.

School Vacation Week

As school vacation week comes to an end, a quick reflection on some good family things to consider:

Charlotte's Web

The new film adaptation of E.B. White's classic book is actually a very entertaining movie. We went to the in-law's over the weekend and visited the small town old-time movie theater (I love the hometown theaters so much more than the megaplexes) and took in the matinee and the girls loved it. It does get a bit sad, but we all know Charlotte dies, so it's not a shocker. I had forgotten how sweet the story is and the real message of being a good friend. The famous voices and quick witted humor make it just as appealing and entertaining to the parents in the theater without being so adult that the kids don't appreciate it, too. And a surprisingly great new song from Sarah MacLachlan ends the flick, so stick around for the credits. Definitely pack the family into the van and check this one out.

Ice Skating

A bit of a family tradition now is to hit the ice rink during school vacation week. After arguing over why we couldn't wear fancy "twirly" skirts and tights, we wrangled jeans and turtlenecks on the girls and got there a little early to catch the zamboni cleaning the ice. As an aside, growing up a huge hockey fan and spending almost every home game at the Capital Center cheering for the Washington Capitals, I have always dreamed of getting behind the wheel of a zamboni. Since we don't have pro hockey here in Connecticut, I had forgotten about the zamboni fascination until the other day, so it was fun to have the reminder. Our feisty little Irish lassie in progress (aka younger daughter) wanted no help from anyone and kept trying to sneak away from the dasher boards without holding a hand, while our older daughter freaked out every time we tried to let go of her. But, like riding a bike, they both got the hang of it again and did well. We skated for about 30 minutes, taking two breaks along the way, before the girls had to go to the bathroom and then decided they were more interested in the snack bar. But it's always fun to lace up the skates and take a few spins around the ice.

Board Games

You'd think every night was family game night in the old McHousehold this week. We've played Sorry!, Feed the Kitty, Perfection, and Monopoly Jr. Princess Edition what seems like a million times. My youngest is a Sorry! champion -- winning almost every game somehow and has, at 4 years old, mastered the strategy of the Sorry! card and how to exact sweet revenge. We're terrified of what this means. I continue to never win any of the games, but I have fun trying anyway. We also tried the new Blokus Trigon and it's a blast -- a little bit harder to master than the original favorite, but still lots of fun. Unfortunately, I was not able to screw my neighbors in the tri-dimension. But there's always the next game.

Mom in progress and I are sad to see the school vacation week end -- and not just because we have to go back to work -- but we really enjoyed the time off with the girls and made the most of both unwinding and being together. The girls say they miss their friends and teachers, so they'll probably be glad to get back into the swing of things, but Mom in progress and I both will cherish the memory of 2006 holiday break.