Dear Miriam,
You were only home for the first half of June, but you managed to make it memorable.
We went to a dinner party at the Jorgensen's, just down the street. We'd been there for about 20 minutes when Celia told her mother that she couldn't find you. I walked back to our house and there you were, sitting on the front porch. I asked you what happened, and you said, "I couldn't find you." Four other adults and four other children in the house, but do you ask anyone for help? No. In your usual fashion, you're just off into the world to solve your own problems.
Your usual fashion also included falling down a lot. When you came back to the party, and were playing with the other children, you got pushed and fell down and got some scrapes on your face. The next day, you climbed up into the little magnolia tree and fell out of it when a branch broke. That same day, you fell backwards off of the porch onto the lawn. Two days later, you fell into the aloe plant and got long scratches all over your arms. A few days after that, you almost fell out of another tree, but I caught you upside down by the leg. I don't know whether to start you on the trapeze or encase you in bubble wrap.
Grandma and Grandpa were getting ready to take you on a trip back to the Midwest. Part of that included getting you started on potty training. You hadn't been very interested, but then we just decided to stop letting you wear diapers. After that, you picked things up pretty fast. I did not make the same mistake with you that I made when Corbin potty trained, though. I had already given away his smaller size shorts, but his waist got so much smaller when he started wearing underwear instead of diapers that I had to sew extra elastic into all of his new shorts. So with you, I made sure that I didn't give away your 2T shorts when I gave away all of your 2T t-shirts and dresses.
It was Father's Day this month. We got Dad some new music, of course, and Grandma had helped you pick out some funny cards. And then you left on your trip. The first day, I was very sad. I had left for work before you were awake, so Dad got to say goodbye to you, but I did not. Only the dogs were there when I got home, which felt lonely. The first weekend was very strange, too, being home with just Dad. It's been a long time since we had a house but no kids.
I hope that you have a house and children someday, if that's what you want. I would say that I hope you also learn how to live independently, but I don't think that is a skill that you'll need. I think rather that you will need to learn how to live so that your independence doesn't scare the life out of your friends and family. Which is not to say that I hope you change. You're my fierce dinosaur girl, and that's just the way you should be.
Love,
Mom
Thursday, August 20, 2015
6.4 or, Summer Stories
Dear Corbin,
You are officially done with Kindergarten. This is the very first true summer vacation for you. About a hundred more and then you'll be done with school. You don't seem either happy or unhappy about the end of the school year. I imagine that will change as time goes on.
The beginning of June was spent getting ready for your trip back to the Midwest. Grandma and Grandpa did their shopping and packing. Dad got you ready by giving you a haircut. I picked up a new pair of shoes for you. All the Kindergarteners brought home a math and reading workbook, which you took along to do in the motor home, along with all kinds of drawing and activity books.
One thing that hasn't changed over the past few months is your love of stories at night. One night I asked you what the story should be about, and you said a dragon. So for a while, we were telling stories about a dragon that accidentally ended up hatching in an eagle's nest, with two eagles. Your favorite of those stories what the time that the dragon learned how to breath fire because a it got attacked by a bear.
Then, you wanted me to tell you stories about a sea creature with eight tentacles and lots of sharp teeth. A Sharktopus. The Sharktopus lives in Never Never Land, in a lagoon with the Pirates, the Lost Boys and the Tick Tock Crock. Then came an eagle, an eel, a few more sharktopuses (to keep the first one company), a regular old shark, and another eel (to keep the first one company). Oh, and a whale, at one point, to help the Sharktopus get back home when he got lost in the ocean.
You don't believe me when I tell you that it's hard to make up so many stories. It's a good thing I got all that practice when I used to make up ridiculous songs, I guess. Although, to be honest, I'm still quite proud of "I'm a big volcano" to the tune of "I'm a little teapot."
It was Father's Day this month. We got Dad some new cd's, which he always likes. Grandma helped you and Miriam pick out some funny cards. She didn't bother putting them in envelopes, which was a good call, because you got all excited about showing it to Dad, and I think the thirty second wait for Dad to open an envelope might have been more than you could bear.
And then it was time for you to leave on your trip to the Midwest. I gave you big hugs and kisses in the morning, but when I came home to just the dogs that evening, I was very sad. It was very strange the first weekend, especially. It was nice to spend time with Dad, but we both felt the house was much too quiet without you and Miriam around. You are noisy and annoying and you pester us and drive us crazy, and we love you very, very much.
Love,
Mom
You are officially done with Kindergarten. This is the very first true summer vacation for you. About a hundred more and then you'll be done with school. You don't seem either happy or unhappy about the end of the school year. I imagine that will change as time goes on.
The beginning of June was spent getting ready for your trip back to the Midwest. Grandma and Grandpa did their shopping and packing. Dad got you ready by giving you a haircut. I picked up a new pair of shoes for you. All the Kindergarteners brought home a math and reading workbook, which you took along to do in the motor home, along with all kinds of drawing and activity books.
One thing that hasn't changed over the past few months is your love of stories at night. One night I asked you what the story should be about, and you said a dragon. So for a while, we were telling stories about a dragon that accidentally ended up hatching in an eagle's nest, with two eagles. Your favorite of those stories what the time that the dragon learned how to breath fire because a it got attacked by a bear.
Then, you wanted me to tell you stories about a sea creature with eight tentacles and lots of sharp teeth. A Sharktopus. The Sharktopus lives in Never Never Land, in a lagoon with the Pirates, the Lost Boys and the Tick Tock Crock. Then came an eagle, an eel, a few more sharktopuses (to keep the first one company), a regular old shark, and another eel (to keep the first one company). Oh, and a whale, at one point, to help the Sharktopus get back home when he got lost in the ocean.
You don't believe me when I tell you that it's hard to make up so many stories. It's a good thing I got all that practice when I used to make up ridiculous songs, I guess. Although, to be honest, I'm still quite proud of "I'm a big volcano" to the tune of "I'm a little teapot."
It was Father's Day this month. We got Dad some new cd's, which he always likes. Grandma helped you and Miriam pick out some funny cards. She didn't bother putting them in envelopes, which was a good call, because you got all excited about showing it to Dad, and I think the thirty second wait for Dad to open an envelope might have been more than you could bear.
And then it was time for you to leave on your trip to the Midwest. I gave you big hugs and kisses in the morning, but when I came home to just the dogs that evening, I was very sad. It was very strange the first weekend, especially. It was nice to spend time with Dad, but we both felt the house was much too quiet without you and Miriam around. You are noisy and annoying and you pester us and drive us crazy, and we love you very, very much.
Love,
Mom
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)