pyramid
June 5, 2011 § 1 Comment
As an infant my daughter would perform improvisational theater from the confined stage of her crib. I would marvel at the range of tones that infused her dramatic monologues, happily entertained by my daughter’s performances. Six and a half years later she still holds my attention captive in her tangled web of words.
When words replaced my daughter’s sounds I was delighted to accompany her on a journey into language. Yesterday was last night ago. Sit next to me was jumbled in to sit be next to me. The ideas were familiar enough to decode, but the presentation engaging for the subtle rearrangement. She was my Yoda and I absorbed her quandaries like ancient riddles. Amusing she was.
Happily, the tangled lines of daily sharings have been transcribed with the development of written language. As she matures into appropriate sentence structure and corrects occasional word choices, I smile at the endearing, lingering mispronunciation. Every sentence is passionately punctuated with a pyramid. Period.
selves
May 19, 2011 § Leave a comment
Before my mother moved away, she left me a box of miscellaneous mementos she had safely stowed away in her basement crawl space. As so often happens, I collected the materials and shelved them in my own home for another day. The box followed us, unmarked and overlooked, into our second home. On a summer day, as we shuffled boxes and bins looking for something and valiantly attempting to make sense of the chaotic contents of our garage, I found pieces of my past in my mother’s castaway clutter.
My daughter, entranced by the random collection accompanied me on my journey through old pictures, assignments, yearbooks, and keepsakes. I introduced my daughter to new chapters of an old story. Among the photographs was an overly posed, professional picture of two teenagers standing close, their awkwardness and affection at once innocent and endearing, familiar and foreign.
At dinner that evening, my daughter’s enthusiasm over her day’s discoveries exclaimed, Mommy has a boyfriend! I smiled at her choice of tense, amused and enchanted that she so naturally merges moments from the past with the present. It is a special gift of time and I am endeared by my daughter’s wish to know each of us, as individuals, among stories and photographs. We introduce her to our selves and she loves us all completely.
graffiti
May 2, 2011 § 1 Comment
Stepping in to the shower I tugged the curtain back exposing a colorful explosion of words and numbers scrawled in the markedly flamboyant and determined hand of my daughter. 12345six78910… the numbers chasing one another across the tiles in brilliant blues, bold reds, and burnt orange; her tally stretching to 100 with six continually spelled out neatly amidst the numeric symbols, a simple nod to my daughter’s age. Words plucked from labels of shampoo and body wash bottles accompany her numbers; marketing and accounting scribbled in a child’s hand.
My daughter’s reading and math skills were slow to blossom, but her energy and determination ever-present. She captures words and numbers on papers and walls, with pen, chalk, paint and now bathtub markers. She pulls these ideas from around her, trapping each concept and making them her own; like a firefly nestled in a mason jar gifting light and admiration to those wishing for a glimmer of illumination.
I love her spontaneous sharing and for a moment I am delightfully lost to the unexpected graffiti in my shower; absorbing the light her joy brings to my days.
hello, sunshine
April 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
Grey skies and rain drenched days have kept us huddled indoors, dreary of damp afternoons. Today, the sun blossomed through the clouds and warmth spread as quickly as smiles. My daughter dressed with frantic intent and we set off for a park.
Racing ahead of me, ponytail swinging to the rhythm of her footsteps, she lovingly traced the lines of the play structure; reacquainting herself with an old friend. She slipped casually down each slide and climbed each ladder retracing footsteps from summers past. Then she settled in a quiet corner, paper and pen in hand.
I watched bewitched by the peaceful tilt of her head as she folded herself over her work in concentration. Each of us absorbing the sunshine.
just add water
April 21, 2011 § 1 Comment
Two pair of hands, palms touching, fingers intertwined between mischievous smiles. One, two, three! The girls sounded off in high-pitched tones as they synchronized their dives. I watched their pony tails plunge beneath the water’s surface followed by a riotous burst of giggles as they reappeared, eyes bulging behind swim goggles. My daughter’s spontaneous friendship born of convenience and nurtured in play.
The girls shared conspiratorial smiles as they paced themselves in the pool; eager to catch one another’s attention while escaping the watchful gaze of the instructors. I hid my amusement behind the pages of a magazine, lost to the unintentional performance. Another child sat on the periphery gauging her classmates’ antics. I noted the child’s progress from tears to triumph and wished her a place in my daughter’s game. Sure enough, all three girls were soon a tangle of limbs as they splashed side by side.
With a full heart I sent my daughter a smile and nod, sharing a moment of gratitude that she gathers others in kindness and friendship.
fashion forward
April 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
We have bent the rules of fashion around our daughter’s precocious personality. Polka dots taunt sassy stripes; bright colors compliment bold theatrical statements; sentimental gowns with ribbons and ruffles spark spontaneous celebrations. Our little girl climbs trees in a cloud of tulle, inspired and unafraid. She is her own norm in a sea of little girl trends.
A special occasion around the corner, my daughter donned her favorite pair of flamingo pink rain boots and purple cat eye sunglasses on a cloudless day as we set off on a treasure hunt for a new dress. She met the dress like an old friend, smiled her hello and never let go. Flamboyant ruffles and shoes that tap, I followed from dressing room to accessories, curious as her personality peeked from among the pieces. She is a little girl in love with a look of her own making.
karma
February 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
Fate has a sense of humor. I have proof. My youngest child lives outside the boundaries of my safe, people pleasing practices and has brought into my world a reckless fun that makes my days richer for the challenges.
At a swim lesson, my daughter’s classmates perched expectantly on the edge of the pool waiting in stillness for their chance to perform the assigned stroke. Sandwiched between other parents, I looked to my daughter hoping for just a hint of conformity to the class structure. No waves please. My daughter eased into a gentle back float and I closed my eyes in silent thanks. “You’re welcome” came in the form of flapping and sputtering, her peaceful form assaulted by her own perfect whale spout. I caught myself smiling as a chorus of giggles rippled across the water. My daughter lives fully in the moment embracing an opportunity to enjoy the space around her, while I sit on the sidelines hoping to go unnoticed, but vicariously enamored with the display.
Dining with family, a member of our party loudly criticized a small child’s messy manners at a nearby table. I cringed, physically arranged my body to remove any trace of support for the admonishment and sent the mother an apologetic look. Two years later, my youngest child embarked on a never-ending mission to challenge the same family member’s patience with poor manners. I should have named her Karma. Aware of the harsh judgment held against her by a loved one, she makes little apologies for imperfection. She offers love without conformity.
In her first soccer class, my daughter fell into the practice drills with an ease and interest that suggested she may have found a comfortable space where conformity was not a challenge. On her second day of class she took over the teacher’s role with the self-confidence and firm guidance of an adult authority figure; peers wobbled behind her like baby ducks. The teacher was unamused, but I was in awe of my daughter’s comfort in her own skin.
There is no shadow to hide behind when so forcefully thrust into the limelight of my daughter’s world. I am learning to wear shades.
private seeds
February 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
After a swim lesson, absorbed with my daughter’s transition from mermaid to winter wear, I over-looked the naked woman.
Between the hair dryers and our belongings my daughter stumbled into a middle-aged woman undressing; a breast swung free from an indiscernible bra barely missing my daughter’s form. Questions and confusion danced across my daughter’s face; a stranger, someone she wasn’t allowed to talk to, was exposing parts of herself my daughter had been taught to protect with privacy.
I shifted my body providing a curtain and gathered the rest of our items. I thought back to my daughter’s earliest insistence of respectful space, private seeds as her young mind termed privacy and realized she had grown into new questions and my responsibility to meet them with an open mind and important truths. In an unexpected moment I had an opportunity and obligation to embrace the naturalness of nakedness and private seeds.
scribblechic 