The egg-dying, feast preparing and decorating festivities have begun! I received advanced notice that the Easter Bunny is preparing a treasure hunt with clues (written at the 1st-grade reading level of course … mom isn’t allowed to help) that K will have to solve to find her Easter Basket.
Then we’ll be celebrating with the auntie, grandma and grandpa with a taco fiesta dinner. I ask you, what says Easter better than tacos and Negra Modelo? Exactly.
3 hours and 2 bags of stealthy junk removal later, and the messy room has disappeared.
Thanks to a lot of combining, organizing and purging, surfaces can once again be used and there is room to breath. Many things were moved around for better access or to encourage use. Amazing how many neat things get more use when put in a new spot.
And while I was itching to do more, there is a certain amount of clutter that seven-year-olds need. At least, that’s my thought. So the stuffed animals continue to reign on the bed, and the lego table still houses a collection of little items with which to build.
Now we’re working on “a place for everything and everything in its place” maintenance plan with Miss K responsible for daily clean-up. Next up: deciding what more we can donate!
Look at this child. Eating a grapefruit so neatly.
The neat and tidy is all a facade. This is what said child’s room looks like …
It’s driving her mother crazy. Progressively more crazy as piles and piles are found under the visible piles. So many piles that there is no room to put anything. The closets are small but the problem isn’t the closet. It’s too much stuff.
It’s time to clear out. To find new homes for things outgrown and out loved. Time to simplify. Rediscover how much can be done with all the treasures already here instead of procuring more. I suspect we’re set for at least a year.
So it’s not really Monday but it feels like one since it seems that most folks had yesterday off. My clients were working so I was too but K has a holiday. Today must have felt like a Monday to her because she was Miss Moody. Not even the yellow boots helped.
Fast forward to the afternoon. Still Miss Moody when I picked her up at the Y. You would have thought the world had ended, looking at her face. On the way to run a few errands, she said not one word. Our first stop was the art store and, I swear, after a minute inside, I had a different child. A happy, excited little chatterbox. Art stores are magical like that.
It is, apparently, never to early to have school pride. K came home yesterday with a copy of her school song. Mind you, she’s in grammar school. I don’t remember having a school song until high school. Actually, I don’t even remember that, but surely we had one?
K’s school has a cheer too. We learned it last year and belt it out once a week during morning school assembly. It’s enjoyable to have a cheer … if I had my way, every client would want me to create a cheer for every project I do. (No, I wasn’t a cheerleader. Not even close.)
Back to what there is of a point to this post … K’s school song. Walking through her room this morning, on the way to tackle the laundry, I noticed the song had moved from the stack of papers on the corner to the wall above her desk where it was carefully taped up.
School pride. Song + cheer. Go Bears Go!
Lest you think I am always full of sparkles, I’m here to dispel the myth. The day started off on the wrong foot with miz K full of attitude. The “whatever” with eye roll did me in. I got mad. And immediately wanted to take away all treats, all fun, maybe even cancel Christmas. Desperately reaching for my inner Audrey Hepburn, I kept my mouth mostly shut but not before telling my offspring what’s what.
Solemn drop-off at school. We’re both mad and sad.
Back in front of the computer, I start to feel badly. For being mean. But that makes me mad because I think, “but she is so lucky to have this, that and the next thing … bratty behavior is uncalled for …” which is quickly followed by the realization that I’m the one who gives her this, that and the other thing, so I’m the one — at least in large part — who has created this situation that is making me so mad. Sigh. Sigh again. Resolve to say no more often but in a patient and kind way. To set-up a schedule that ensures we aren’t in a morning rush. To lead by example.
It’s going to be a day of sighs and glaring at the computer. Time to get out the sparkle reinforcements …
Said K as she got in to the tub.
Me: what?
K: my underwear is in the tub, wanna see?
Me: of course (the only appropriate answer); did you forget to take them off?
K: no, they were around my ankle and didn’t fall off and then I put my foot in the water. Can I wash them?
Me: no.
K: why not? I’ll do a good job.
Guess who’s in the bath with her underwear as I type? That sums up the mommy shift for the day. I’ve also had shifts as writer and crafter today, as well as daughter. Grab a beverage — I have to go back in time a bit first.
When I was about 10, I was delighted to find a calendar that proclaimed June 13 as Children’s Day. My sisters and I immediately informed our parents and grandparents. We felt it our duty to make sure the folks with purchasing power knew about this important day. A day to celebrate children. Wow. We were so pleased to know.
Fast forward a few decades (ahem) and I find it amusing that there is day with such a title. After all, every day is pretty much children’s day when you are young and lucky enough, as we were, to live in warm and cozy home with parents who encouraged us, were proud of our accomplishments and said “I love you” every day.
I haven’t given much thought to Children’s Day in awhile. Then today came a letter from the folks. It began with a few facts about Children’s Day, which, who knew, dates back to 1925. Only then it was International Children’s Day and celebrated on June 1 (pretty close to my June 13 I think), and then changed to November 20 in 1954. Now in the U.S., the day is October 2. (Gotta love Google — go mom + dad, go!).
The folks, realizing they had been in lax in celebrating us, have made October 4 our family Children’s Day. A day to celebrate their three girls as the women we have become.
Tears pool as I read the words. Gracious and lovely? Thoughtful? Wonderful? I strive always to be all those things, falling short more than I care to admit. To be described as such by your parents — especially when we should be giving them all the thanks — means more than words can express.
The letter came with a check and the instructions to use the funds in a carefree way — something audacious (a tattoo?) or serious (a class?) — anything as long as it falls under the category of would not otherwise have done.
Don’t ask me how I got so fortunate to call these two generous souls my parents; I have no idea. I just know I cherish them and their presence in my life every, single day.
You gotta love a summer camp that is so much fun your child begs you not to pick her up until camp is just about to close for the day. And when you do, she is happily tired, dirty and tattooed!
What’s even better is when camp combines fun with learning. Our collection of ceramics continues to grow and this year the little miss is recording cds and trying her hand at short iMovies. And then there’s the sewing:
These are K’s first attempts at hand-sewing … all learned at camp and complementing the machine sewing she has begun to do at home. The tiny stitches delight me as does her growing interest in making things from fabric. I do believe we have holiday presents figured out!
… of Kindergarten later and the 06/07 school year has come to a close. We went from this:
to a much taller, incredibly confident girl who often sounds more like she’s 26 than 6. A true and true tomboy who’s best buds are boys but will still hang with the girls. A whiz at the monkey bars and thinking up stories, she’s beginning to read and write with confidence. Novels and essays are around the corner, I have no doubt.
I am so proud of this girl. She rocks my world. Even when she brings a beach full of sand home in her pockets!
And, truth be told, I’m so relieved that my year of room parent duty is over. Even though I made so many great friends and love K’s teacher to death, it was, really, just one too many pieces of an already crowded pie. Summer is here! And while my work continues, everything feels just a bit slower. More time for planning big parties. Crafting. Eating berries. And, ahem, blogging!
“The most important thing
she’d learned over the years
was that there was no way
to be a perfect mother and
a million ways to be a good one.”
Jill Churchill
photo stylist: KK
