Skipping Town

Dear Lucia, Happy happy 7th birthday, little love. You were so excited about your birthday this year. Every year you're excited--but more so this year than any other so far. You couldn't wait to turn seven (and have stated definitively that you now, in fact, feel seven). You counted down the days till your birthday for weeks; and you were just beside yourself with excitement as the big day approached. So much excitement is adorable, and touching--but it also puts a lot of pressure on me, as your mother, to make sure you have a day that lives up to your expectations. When I remarked to your daddy this week that I was feeling overwhelmed with birthday preparations in the midst of an already crazy week, he suggested I cut some things out--like not bother getting you helium balloons to greet you in the morning, which you had specifically requested. Would you have withered in despair without balloons? No. But I went to the Dollar Tree at 9pm last night to get them anyway. And ...

  And so another summer begins in New Hampshire. We opened the house for Memorial Day weekend and have the luxury of three and a half days to spend here, thanks to a couple of unused snowdays for the school district. I thought I'd take this opportunity to do a little letter to you, little girls, as we gear up for the summer months ahead. Lucia Dear Lucia, Your poise, confidence, and independence amaze me on a daily basis. At six and a half, you do most things on your own--choosing your own clothes, cleaning up and organizing your room, getting ready in the morning. You've learned to take out your earrings by yourself (but aren't yet willing to try putting them in). You love your room and even get wrapped up in mundane tasks like folding your own socks and clothes to neaten up your drawers. You continue to love kindergarten, and are thriving. You can read now--and you're so proud of this. You like to read Elephant and Piggie books to us, and the Ho...

Dear Lucia, This is a two-weeks-late letter, better than no letter at all. The start of school made September a blur; I'd counted on getting my footing in October, but the insanity of your birthday and Greta's birthday back to back makes October pretty crazy too. But: you're six! Five was a watershed birthday, but six is showing even more transformations, coupled as it is with the start of kindergarten. You've become such a kid these past two months, and you were beyond excited about your birthday. Daddy was in Germany on the big day, and he hated not being home to celebrate with you. But Gra and Pop-Pop came to NJ for a few days, and I can safely say you had a wonderful birthday. In the morning, I gave you one present before you left for school--a large Princess Celestia plush you'd discovered when we were in Ocean City, MD, and which we secretly bought for you (and Greta). I was a lunch helper at school, so I got to see you during the day--you were wearin...

Dear Lucia, You've finished preschool last week! Three years--done. This was by far the hardest year to say goodbye to, for me at least. You had a pre-K year that was wonderful beyond words. Exceptionally warm and talented teachers, supportive and welcoming preschool community, lovely classmates and families, activities that fully embraced both fun and kindergarten prep. We couldn't have asked for more. On the way home from your last day, I asked you how you felt, anticipating sadness; but all you said, happily, was, "I feel like kindergarten." You loved this year but are eagerly anticipating the next big thing, which is as it should be. Month by month, you're becoming more of a five-year-old, curious and funny and so much yourself in ways that--I have to admit--have little to do with me. You still love reading books together, and your interest in identifying sight words is growing--my ambitious goal for the summer is to get you even closer to reading...

Dear Girls, Another catch-up letter, and I've lost track of how many months each of you are, and one of these months I'll do the counting and get back on track. But it's better to write than not write, and it's fun to write about you both right now because we're in a stellar period of cuteness and hilarity. Lucia, at 5 1/2 you're the reigning big sister, eager to "help" Greta whenever you can--even, sometimes, announcing you're going to be the one to help Greta get dressed in the morning. But Greta, you hold your own--you idolize Lucia and look up to her and strive to emulate her in every way; but you don't hesitate to stand your ground and assert yourself. The big sister / little sister dynamic was on charming display this week, since you had your first swimming lesson together. Greta has been watching Lucia at her swimming lesson for the past three months, and finally you're in a class together. Lucia, you led Greta to the side of the...

So I've fallen way, way behind in blogging over the past couple of months. Trying to go back and catch up on all the posts I should have been writing is daunting, so I'm just going to throw a whole bunch of things down here and start being more timely from here on out. In no particular order, some bits of our life: Box Houses The kitchen appliances all arrived in February, and Andrew and I turned the boxes into box houses in the basement for the girls. Each girl had a large room and a small room, and their houses were connected by a door. We hung twinkle lights. The girls decorated their walls with stickers and markers. They filled their houses with stuffed animals and blankets and Legos. The houses got me through a few days when Andrew was out of town, which is really the best thing a box house can do. Today, mid-March, we finally took the box houses down. I hope the girls remember them. I still remember the box houses Molly and I had when our kitchen was being redone deca...

Little Lulu, Combining letters this time since I wrote a lot about Christmas, and that was really the focus for most of November and all of December. I have to say this was the most fun Christmas with you yet: so much giddy anticipation; a real awareness and understanding of Santa; an exciting wish list; and little of the worry of prior years of mid-day meltdowns. Five is a good age. A fun age. We're still exploring a lot of the new things from Christmas as we get back into our regular routine. You're still loving pre-K, the best thing we've ever given you. For future decisions, I need to remember how much sleep I lost this summer, doubting my decision to switch your preschool and enroll you in this class, with its longer hours and unfamiliar teachers and classmates. And yet--what a fortunate thing it is that I didn't let those doubts rule my actions. I feel lucky every day that you're there. Now I worry about the year ending; you say frequently that you want to...

Little Lulu, Magic. That's the only way I can describe the age of five. You turned five, and something just seemed to click--and you're off, into real-kid world. You're so curious, learning so much, doing so many things, capable of so much. Seeking independence, relishing it. Taking pride in the new skills you're learning--putting on and zipping up your coat; writing the letters of the alphabet; honing your skills with scissors, stencilling, tracing. You and Greta are still best friends and constant playmates; but you take care of her, too, and take pride in helping her do things. Greta looks up to you so much. You're a star to her. But I do see you two as further apart right now than you've been so far--not in your relationship, but in your "life stage." You're invested fully in school, having drop-off playdates and birthday parties; capable of working on crafts and art projects on a totally different level than Greta. It's a tricky balanc...

Dear Lulu, Happy, happy birthday, little one! Your birthday was yesterday, and you are so very excited to be five. You've been looking forward to this birthday so much, and we made it a big one for you. On Sunday, we threw you a bounce-house birthday party in a giant warehouse in Secaucus--definitely not a place Daddy or I ever imagined existing, let alone patronizing, pre-you (or, more accurately, pre-New Jersey). It was a ton of fun. Twenty-two children came to help you celebrate, including friends from both your old school and your new school. Aunt Molly and Luca were there too, and had visited for the weekend, which made it even better. You, Greta, and Luca became fixated by the water fountain for a bit, and Molly and I feared you'd never return to your wild climbing and bouncing. You had cupcakes at school on your birthday. And that evening, we gave you your presents, including a variety of My Little Ponies, a Jasmine, some books, two games, a Tinkerbell movie and f...

Dear Lulu, Your last letter as a four-year-old! Insanity. Five is right around the corner, and you're ready for it. I'm extremely late writing this letter, and delinquent with the last letter, but no matter. I'll keep it brief so I can do a proper one for your birthday next week. The biggest milestone this month has been the start of school, your last year of preschool: Pre-K 5's. This is a big change. You go every day from 8:45am till 1:30pm (Fridays you come home at 11:45), and it's a lot more school-like than your previous two years. I really see the difference already. You're learning a lot, and you seem so much more kid-like and grown-up from the things you're doing. It's a new school for us, and you made the transition without a hiccup--no hesitation on the first day, and only excitement from that point on about going back each day. You don't share too many details about your activities--getting you to share what you did is like pulling tee...

Dear Lulu, It's been an incredibly exciting month, a fun near-end to summer, and this past week you've been in camp at your new preschool. You have loved every second of it. You had a wobbly chin when I left on the first day, but you didn't cry, and the teacher said you were quiet for about ten minutes and then were fine. You've had so much fun--you're so excited to go each day, and when I pick you up, you're eager to return the next day. As usual, you won't give us too much information about what you did, but now and then you'll share a detail, like making trail mix (you were thrilled, and we've been making trail mix each day since). This is all a big relief to me, because you loved your old school and friends. But we get to walk to school now, which is exciting; there is an outdoor playground; and everyone seems warm and kind. I'm really glad you got to do this camp, jus t to get familiar with the school before the year actually begins, ...

Dear Lulu, This letter is late, but I purposely waited to write it so I could write about a very exciting event: your big debut as a flower girl in your cousin Lexi's wedding on July 19. For months, I'd been preparing you: talking up the honor, the dress, the excitement, the princess-like aspects of the day. We watched YouTube videos of flower girls. We talked about brides and aisles and flowers. You're almost five years old--an age of reason, usually. But it was the "usually" that, of course, made me nervous. Ninety percent of the time, you're agreeable and amenable and wonderful; ten percent of the time...you're otherwise, like any kid. With a four year old, there's no guarantee of predictability. But we needn't have worried. You were so extremely excited, talking about the wedding for weeks beforehand. You sailed through the rehearsal, and had a good sleep the night before the wedding. (We had two adjoining suites at the Mayflower in DC--roy...

Dear Little One, You're closer to five now than four, and every day it shows. You've been interested in games off and on for the past couple of months, but suddenly you're more excited about them. Since Greta's nowhere near ready to follow rules--even simple ones--this is something you and I do together (with Daddy on weekends) after Quiet Time, when Greta is still napping. We currently play Orchard and Sneaky Snacky Squirrell. I have another couple stashed away for a rainy day. It is, sadly, the end of the preschool year, but you have two weeks of "camp" coming up--sort of an extension of the school year, with the same teachers and kids--which is great. You had such an amazing year. Wonderful teacher, and a new openness and excitement about making friends. I know you're only four, but you really did make friends this year, specific children you enjoyed playing with and really loved. It is such a relief to me that you're so well-adjusted and happy;...

Little Ones, Another joint letter. I’ll get my act together soon, I promise. But once again it’s fitting to write to both of you, since so much of what you do, you now do together. Now that it’s summer, all of us are happier, and we spend our days on the porch or in the backyard: bubbles, chalk, climbing the rhododendrons, coloring the rhododendrons with chalk, running around, digging, reading. We’ve set up the water table and sand table, as well as a kid-size table with chairs for snacks, lunch, dinner. It’s all just purely fun. You both have lost interest in television: though you have your favorite shows (Doc McStuffins, Sofia the First, Bubble Guppies, Dinosaur Train), you’d much rather be outside, or playing with whatever you’re into that day. I never know for sure what you’ll be involved with when I come out of the kitchen to check on you while I’m cooking dinner: today you were both building towers and structures with the wooden lacing beads that haven’t seen the light ...

Dear Girlies, I'm delinquent this month in writing your updates, so I'm writing a joint one to get back on track. The main theme right now is the way you've been interacting anyway, so it makes sense. You've always played together--usually very well; sometimes squabbling more than playing--but in the past couple of months your play has changed, deepened, and grown. Greta, you're old enough now to understand what's going on and to actively participate in whatever activity the two of you are doing; and Lucia, you seem thrilled to finally have an "equal" in your games, one who can go along--more or less--with what you direct. My role, too, has changed: rarely am I a primary participant in your activities; I moderate, I suggest, I mediate, I propose, but you two are incredibly self-directed, and your imaginations know no bounds. A favorite thing to do right now is reenact scenes from Frozen. You both know large blocks of dialogue, and you switch off be...

Dear Little Lulu, This is a very late letter, but at least it's here. This has been a crazy month, highlighting one of the central frustrations and phenomena of parenting: the more time we're cooped up at home, the less time I have to do anything. We've been at home a lot a lot a lot the past few weeks because of this crazy winter, so things like timely blog post have fallen by the wayside. Anyway. It's been apparent for a month or so now that you are becoming much more kid-like. You have friends at preschool whom you enjoy playing with. You love Thursdays, when you get to stay for "Lunch Bunch" and soccer. You have an amazing memory and are almost too observant; you forget, and miss, nothing. You aren't all that interested in playing games on the iPad anymore, but when you do play games like Fruit Pop, you're uncannily skilled: swiping your finger to link three fruits, connecting fruit chains to coconuts, spotting groups of fruit faster than me so...

Dear Little Lulu, You're growing up so fast. It's suddenly apparent that you are not such a tiny little girl anymore--your hair is getting longer, your preferences for clothing more outrageous and personal. You love wearing tights, and spend most days in some sort of dress-up outfit, usually a leotard or leotard-with-attached-skirt. You are not bothered by the wintry cold in such outfits. I walk around the house in two sweaters, and there you are in a leotard. Right now you love playing hide and seek, and though our range is limited--you have yet to realize you can hide absolutely anywhere in the house and always just stick to whatever floor we're on--you manage to find inventive places, like covering yourself with pillows on the couch. It's hilarious when you and Greta both play. You both hide in the same place, and though you understand the point is to hide quietly, Greta squeals and scream-laughs, often popping out to see where I am then darting back into your...

Dear Lulu, ***Note: For the first time in four years, I'm going to combine two months of letters into one. I wrote your 50 Month letter last month, and forgot to post it; and now here we are, past time for Month 51, and I've missed this one too. It's New Year's Eve, and for the sake of finishing off the year all caught up with blogging, I'm going to just post a two-month post. Forgive me...*** As I've said before, being four years old seems to suit you. You can do more and more things on your own all the time--from getting dressed entirely to putting on your boots and coat to retrieving your scooter from the basement and carrying it upstairs. The house is your domain: you traverse it from top to bottom, from attic to basement, embracing the various activities you do in each room. Your bedroom: stacks of tiny cubes, elaborate games with your many princesses. The basement: riding your scooter, crawling through the tunnel-and-hut setup, coloring, doing art proj...

Dear Rapunzel, You are deep into Disney Princess World these days. You've loved the princesses for a long time now, but ever since your birthday, your love has grown--thanks, of course, to the deluge of princesses you received as gifts. Your very favorite princess right now is Rapunzel, and your Barbie-like Rapunzel doll is your constant companion. You sometimes refer to yourself as Rapunzel as well. Ariel, your prior favorite, has been supplanted for now. You love the Disney Princess books Daddy purchased for the iPad--the books are read to you, with accompanying music, and you turn to these immediately when you get to use the iPad after Quiet Time. You are pretty delightful these days, with funny dances and observations, and you chatter nonstop. Just nonstop. You talk to me, to Greta, to Daddy, to your toys, to yourself. You are incredibly bossy; nothing frustrates you more than when Greta refuses to do what you want her to. You are generally tolerant of Greta's ever-inte...

Dear Lulu, Happy, happy birthday! You were so excited about turning four today. You eagerly anticipated your birthday this year and exclaimed throughout the day, "I'm four!" Daddy worked from home today, and we had a nice day just hanging out here. You opened presents this morning and loved the things we got you, especially a set of Disney Princess Magiclip dolls--four little princesses with dresses that you can change. You also got three mermaids (Ariel and her sisters) for the bathtub, glow-in-the-dark stars for your ceiling, a Hello Kitty holding a cupcake, two nightgowns, and a doll bed with a cupcake comforter that matches yours (I made it last night). Aunt Katherine's gift of the Little Mermaid DVD was here for you and Greta as well, and we watched it tonight, after a day of playing with princesses. After dinner we turned out the lights and lit four candles on a (store-bought) cake, sang Happy Birthday, then all had some cake before bedtime. A fun day all arou...