the girl | matching tracksuits

Paris Mountain

Sunday 23 March 2014 | 1 Comment

“Tata, when are we going to have another Tata-L day?” the Girl occasionally asks. It's our nickname for a little bit of time together, just the two of us. It might be a bit of bike riding together, or it might just be a few errands with a milkshake treat to finish up the outing. Until recently, though, the Boy has really been too small for a Tata-E day.

Today was just such a day

The girls were on their way to the airport for Babcia's return flight, with a planned stop at Ikea to begin planning a room renovation for the Girl's bedroom. It was the perfect opportunity for a bit of little-man-alone-with-Tata time: walking, climbing, falling, looking, exploring.

Over the bridge -- again, and again, and again.

Walking carefully so as not to fall through

Afternoon Play

Saturday 22 March 2014 | 0 Comments

Morning Nap

Saturday 22 March 2014 | 0 Comments

Warmth in March

Thursday 20 March 2014 | 0 Comments

When it's this warm, after days of rain, after days of winter's last stand, a warm and sunny day demands us, commands us, compels us outside. The yellow bells have been blooming for a week, and the green underneath will soon overwhelm the yellow much like the heat of the coming summer will overwhelm the beauty of merely warm days like today.

The warmth of summer isn't the only thing we catch a glimpse of today, though. The Boy glances at me when I call his name, and as I've managed to do several times with the Girl, I catch an instant in which we can see hints of what he'll look like as he grows older.

It's inevitable, of course, but sometimes, like all parents, we just want to keep him at this perfect little age. And keep L at her perfect little age. That's one of the oddities of being a parent: when you're that close to the growth, seeing it constantly, it's easy to forget that a given child hasn't always been this age, hasn't always been just this charming in this particular way.

Hasn't he always been eager to "help"? Hasn't he always been madly repeating every single phrase he hears, with his bubbling, often-near-miss pronunciation? Won't he always love to swing?

Nightly Rituals

Monday 17 March 2014 | 0 Comments

We have many, but two stood out tonight. First, the search for Elsa, our kitten. She’s still incredibly small, and she can fit into the must unimaginably tight spots. Under the sofa is a favorite place, even though there’s probably not much more than three inches of clearance there. A recent favorite was behind the baskets in which K stores our scarves and gloves in the winter, our hats and such in summer. Tonight, a new spot: my sock basket at the bottom of our bedroom closet.

The other ritual is reading. The Boy has his favorite books, and now that the Girl has progressed so in reading — still waiting that spring MAP score! — she often reads to him. His attention span is still not much longer than his nose, though, and tonight, the dust cover of the book was far more interesting.

As the Girl grows, she takes on more responsibility with her brother, as tonight shows. Best of all, she often relishes these responsibilities — for a short time. Still, it’s a start toward mature responsibility.

Settling In

Tuesday 11 March 2014 | 0 Comments

The skittishness is subsiding, and even E's squealing can go unnoticed. She sleeps in the middle of the floor sometimes, and she's seeking out company rather than desperately searching for a hiding place. The Girl is learning the old maxim, "If you love someone, set her free," and Elsa is beginning to come back, showing it was meant to be.

In short, she seems to be happy to be part of our family.

Master of Kittens

Monday 10 March 2014 | 1 Comment

L says, "Daddy, you're the master of playing with kittens. Elsa just adores you! When you play with her, it's a joy to watch, even."

Elsa

Saturday 08 March 2014 | 0 Comments

"Mr. S, do you like cats?" students ask.

"No, not really," I reply pausing before continuing my usual silly joke whenever someone asks me about my preferred pet. "They're much to difficult to cook right, and they always end up too chewy for my preferences."

"Oh, Mr. S! That's horrible!" they respond on cue.

And I suppose it is horrible, but the truth is, I really have no preferences either way about animals, other than the fact that I'd prefer not own one at all. Still, it's good for the kids, and if push comes to shove, I prefer cats: much more independent, much lower maintenance.

Our poor cat, though, is so old that she's virtually toothless and prefers sleeping to anything else -- more so than the average cat, that is. Try as she may, L can't get our poor cat Bida (which literally means "poor little thing" in Polish -- she was a rescue cat, and that was the only thing K could say about the poor cat) to play with her, and as she ages, Bida just wants to spend all her time in her little basement lair. So L has been pestering us for the last year or so for a kitten, a cat that she can raise from playful kitten to hopefully playful adult.

Today, she got her wish, and we welcomed Elsa (L provided the name from her current favorite film, Frozen) to our family. She mostly trembles and meows now. "Imagine that same thing happened to you," we explain to a confused little girl. "She's been taken from her mother, and she's around strangers in a strange house. She's absolutely terrified, so you just have to give her time."

Tonight, when it was bed time, we put Elsa in her little bed we've put in her temporary abode in the cleaned out floor of L's closet, and then we kissed our little girl goodnight and waited. Sure enough, in a few minutes L appeared at the top of the stairs. "I can't sleep. She just keeps crying." In the end, L made a small bed on the floor and had Elsa come over and sleep with her because she just couldn't handle Elsa's sad crying.

Instant bond, and reassurance for us: she'll be a good cat servant indeed.