2.6 or, Dinosaur Princess

Dear Miriam,

At the beginning of the month, we had an argument about your dinosaur pajamas.  You love them so much that you never want to take them off.  One day, you didn't want to change your shirt in the morning, so, of course, by bedtime it was dirty.  You were so upset that I wouldn't let you wear your dirty triceratops pajama shirt that you cried for 20 minutes.

So I joked with our friends Marc and Becky that they needed to buy their daughter Sofia more dinosaur shirts for you to get as hand-me-downs.  Marc noted that they didn't have dinosaurs, but they sure did have a lot of sparkles.

Several days later, I was getting you dressed in the morning.  I managed to get your pajama shirt off, and then you decided to hide in your closet.  Then we had this conversation:

Me: Come and pick out a shirt, Miriam.
You [inside the closet]: I don't want to pick out a shirt!
Me: Do you want to wear a dress?
You [opening the closet door]: I want to dress like a princess!

So I grabbed one of the many dresses that we got as hand-me-downs from Sofia, one plastered with Disney princesses on it, and you thought that was fantastic.  Marc and Becky thought it was hilarious.

We have moved on to the two side pony-tails for your hairstyle, which only happens if you're out of bed before I leave for work.  Otherwise you end up with crazy hair all day.  Grandma's hands are too bad now to do a pony-tail, and Dad just hasn't had enough practice yet.  I don't know if Grandpa has even tried.  I'm looking forward to when it's long enough to cut it all one length.

You had your very first pony ride at a horse show in Palos Verdes, the first weekend of the month.  They had a petting zoo and games, too, but you were less interested in those.  You sat and watched the big horses doing jumping rounds with me for a while.  I don't know if you were actually interested or if it was just something to watch while you ate your granola bar, but I thought it was fun.  Whenever we walked past a horse, you would say, loudly, "Look at that horse!"  Then you saw a gray horse and said, "Just like Merrylegs!" which is the gray pony in the Black Beauty movie.  That made me laugh.

You've been doing lots of counting lately.  Grandpa got you a lift-the-flap book where you count to 100, and you've made me read that a bunch of times.  So now you know a lot of numbers, but you don't always get them in any kind of sequence.

You've been doing a lot of reading, too.  You know some of your books so well that you really can appear to read them.  Which doesn't stop you from trying to get us to read them to you.  Your favorite new delaying tactic at bedtime is to run into Grandpa's room with a book and ask him to read it to you.  You have to bring books with you to brush your teeth, or to eat breakfast, or to ride in the car.  Which we don't mind, really.  It makes a break from you bringing five dinosaurs with you, or three horses, or any number of stuffed animals.  You're very, "Have stuff, will travel," these days.

You started a gymnastics class this month.  Grandma takes you on Monday mornings, and then she's exhausted the rest of the week.  You enjoy it, of course, so we'll have to see what classes we can find in Long Beach.  It would be nice if you and Corbin both ended up doing gymnastics.  Maybe we'd be able to double up on lesson time, instead of having to deal with two totally different schedules.  But we'll see what you each end up liking.

We finalized the purchase of the new house this month, got the keys and even moved some boxes in.  So it's really happening; we have a new home.  I look forward to doing house projects with you.  After all, you love painting.  I'm sure you'll do a lovely job helping me repaint the upstairs hallway.  "Little dabs of watercolors" has to be some kind of art movement, somewhere.

Love,
Mom

First pony ride, at the horse show:

 At play:

Morning story time with Grandpa:

"I have monkey feet!"

Stick to your ribs:

Dinosaur Train:

The side ponies:

Wearing a "space helmet:"

5.7 or, Back to Life

Dear Corbin,

This month, you started big kid school: Kindergarten!  Your dad was excited to get to do homework with you, which would probably be news to most of the teachers who used to assign him homework when he was in school.  I was excited to see the Scholastic Books order form, which was one of my favorite parts of school as a kid.  In fact, I think I scared Grandma with how excited I got.  But it's books!  Good books!  Cheap!  How can you not love that?!

I took the morning off on your first day, so that I could meet your teacher and make sure you were settled.  But since you had those two weeks of Jumpstart Kindergarten, you knew right where your classroom was, and some of the kids already.  So as soon as we got your backpack hung up and your snack in the bin, you were off to see what the other kids were doing.  I barely got a hug and a kiss, but I guess that's better than having you cry all over me for ten minutes.  Once again, my fear of your reaction was far worse than your reaction.  Someday I'm sure I'll stop worrying so much.  I'll be in a coma, but I won't be worrying about anything.

Dad and I both made it to Back to School Night.  Your teacher demonstrated her smart board, which was pretty cool.  She talked about the expectations that she has for her students, and they seemed high, which I liked.  She talked about the types of homework she'll be sending home and how we can help you develop the skills that she'll be measuring.  She talked about the report card and how it would look very different than the report cards that we got as children.  She was funny and seems smart and engaged.

You seem to be liking school.  You have gotten to know some of the other children.  One of them is a rather rowdy boy, who has already become the boy to avoid if you don't want to get into trouble.  But part of school is learning those skills, and better sooner than later.  You've already started demonstrating new knowledge and skills.  Your writing is getting better, you and Dad have been working on memorizing sight words, and you taught us how to sing the days of the week to tune of, "Oh My Darling, Clementine."

We did have this conversation on a Sunday night:
Me: It's Monday tomorrow.  Don't forget to wear your school shirt.
You: I don't want to wear that shirt.
Me: You're supposed to wear you school shirt on Mondays, for assembly.  Or another purple shirt.
You: Other people don't wear purple shirts, and I decided I want to be like them.

I guess paying $10 to find out that you're a non-conformist isn't that big of a deal.

The first weekend of the month, we went to a horse show up in Palos Verdes.  It was a fundraiser for a Children's Hospital.  They had lots of games and food, but also a little petting zoo and pony rides.  You had fun playing the games with Dad, and you thought the animals in the petting zoo were funny.  You decided not to do the pony rides, and you thought watching the big horses do their jumping rounds wasn't very exciting.  Probably if there had been jousting, you would have been interested.

You started gymnastics lessons again, on the weekends, and you started soccer lessons after school on Tuesdays.  It's good to get you moving around.  I'm looking forward to being able to walk to a park after dinner and on the weekends.  Especially in a neighborhood with sidewalks on the whole block.

We got the keys to the new house, right at the end of the month, and started taking boxes over.  I am looking forward to having all of our stuff back, and being able to work on projects again.  There is a lot of painting to do, and a lot of organizing, but I can't wait to get my favorite artwork back up on the walls.  And then we will start a shrine to the patron saint of Not Moving Again For Many Years.

Love,
Mom


First day of Kindergarten:

With the goats in the petting zoo at the horse show:

At play:

Morning story time with Grandpa: