L with Papa
the girl
Counting Up Costs
When I was a kid, there was once a toy backhoe that I saw in a department stores -- I believe it was Sears back when Sears mattered -- that I wanted so badly I could think of nothing else at times. Every single time we were in the store, I had to head over to the toy department and look at it, handle it, play with it as much as was possible in its wrapping.
I can only imagine my torture if someone in my class had said backhoe, brought it to school, and wouldn't allow me to touch it.
The Girl finds herself in a similar situation. Of course it's not a backhoe; it's a Barbie camper. And she did have the awful situation of being able to see but not touch, of being able to watch someone play with it but not join in.
And so she decided there's only one way to solve the problem, given the fact that the answer to the questino, "Mama, Tata, can you buy me..." was "No."
Check the piggie bank and see how much she was short.
The End of the Season
Poles traditionally don't put up the Christmas tree until a few days before Christmas, as opposed to Americans, who seem to start getting ready for Christmas before Halloween. This is especially true in shops. On the other hand, Poles tend to leave their trees up until the end of January.
This late set-up, late pack-up habit undoubtedly comes from the Catholicism that permeates Polish society. Christmas day is only the beginning of the Christmas season, and accordingly, having the tree and decoration up during the season and not simply before it.
We work something of a compromise in our home: we decorate a couple of weeks before and keep it a couple of weeks after. Eventually, though, the time comes: we put on some carols for one last time and take down the tree.
The Girl, happy to have her dancing space back, spins in joy.
Helping
One of the reasons I so like taking L to the park is the adventure she has meeting new people. She always makes a new friend -- though they seldom even learn their names -- and sharpens her social skills.
Monkeying Around
The Bath
Tough Lessons
Because one of my plugins broke with the upgrade to WordPress 3.3, I have to click over to Flickr and manually grab the code for each image I want to insert. In some ways, it would be easier simply to upload them directly to this site, but we use Flickr as a mastery back-up for our best photos -- the ones we absolutely don't want to lose -- so in the long run, it's worth the extra step. But it does mean some clicking: Click on the picture. Click on the "Share" button. Select the text and copy. Click to the new window -- you get the point.
Still, as far as sharing goes, this is fairly painless, because one of the hardest things to learn is the gift of sharing. I say "gift of sharing" as if it's something easy for me to do. It's not. I doubt it's easy for anyone in all situations. We all have this or that which we hang on to with clinched fists even when we aren't aware of how are knuckles are turning white.
For the Girl, it's Wawel's candy, "Kasztanki." L is simply obsessed with them. This is partially because of their rarity: they're not readily available in the South. (One might find them in Polish stores up north, but not down here.) Babcia sends them to the Girl on a fairly regular basis, but from time to time, she does run out, and then it's a period of slow heartbreak.
Tonight, we suggested that L share her favorite candy with Nana and Papa so they could see what all the fuss was about. Judging from her expression, one would think we'd asked her to give up a kidney or sacrifice her life. Eventually she relented, though not without a bit of persuasion.
I suppose we all take some persuading to share some things.
First Ride
The Girl's first cycling experiences were as a passenger, a constantly-exhorting weight I pulled around in a trailer more or less at the speed she liked. "Faster, Tata!" would soon morph into, "Not so fast, Tata!" While I love her boundlessly, she was sometimes quite an irritating passenger.
Today, the Girl and I took our first father/daughter bike ride: a respectable distance of 2.1 kilometers (1.3 miles) in a nearby park. It took us 28 minutes, meaning we were riding roughly 4.3 km/h (2.7mph). There were a number of reasons for this rather slow tempo, all related to her lack of cycling experience.
- Having training wheels makes her dependent on them for balance. Thus, when one loosens a bit and is thus not providing perfect support, L panics.
- L is terrified of going downhill. When she gets going too fast, she panics and, instead of putting on brakes, plants both feet firmly -- albeit very temporarily -- on the ground. The pedals bite her ankles, she almost looses her balance and falls forwards, and the whole thing becomes a gigantic trauma. "You need to use your bakes" I said continuously today.
- The Girl doesn't have the best concept of two-way traffic. Even when she sees someone coming from the opposite direction, she seems oblivious.
- She hasn't mastered braking, so it's always all or nothing. There is no such thing as coasting on the brakes.
- L's bike is too small for her. Her knees almost touch the handlebars, and her legs are never more than 3/4 extended.
- When all of this combines into one experience, it is disaster writ large.
Still, a relatively successful first day out. We'll start working on our first father/daughter century ride when we get her a new bike this spring.
2011
Twelve wishes for the Girl.
January
The Girl is curious. It's only natural: all children are, and we only use that curiosity when something kills it.
May you always be fascinated with snow.
February
An early warm spell in late February brought buds and blossoms to trees and bushes, and the Girl was eager to pick the first blossoms. "They're for Mama," she explained.
May the beauty of the world always incline your soul to generosity.
March
"I'm an artist," she explained as she traced her imagination in chalk on the driveway in the early spring. "Don't tell anyone," she asked, but it's hard to keep such a secret, even for her. She's always drawing and always eager to share her drawings.
May your creativity always be a source of pride for you.
April
A new sandbox brought spring joy.
May you always enjoy getting dirty.
May
During her second camping trip, the Girl found herself having to produce her own entertainment while K and I set up camp. Fortunately, she brought her art supplies.
May your artistic talent always be a source of comfort.
June
Early June. We headed to Hot Springs, North Carolina, to visit friends and attend the Bluff Mountain Festival, a celebration of bluegrass and old timey mountain music. The Girl sat in rapt fascination as the cloggers clicked their rhythms. Soon, when the small plywood dance floor cleared, L ran out to spin and hop and dance.
May traditional music always make you want to dance.
July
A first hot dog. For a girl who always judges food without tasting, trying new foods brings smiles to K's and my face. It's such a rarity that it's photo-worthy.
May you always be willing to try something new.
August
As the temperature soared, we found ourselves at the pool with increasing frequency. It was during this summer that the Girl finally took off the water wings and tried swimming solo. It was during this summer that the Girl, seeing her best friend from school doing it, finally gathered the bravery to shove her face under the water.
May water always bring joy.
September
The Girl has had a refined sense of fashion for some time. Only recently did she begin wearing pants on a semi-regular basis. "I don't want to look like a boy," she explained, and she simply adored her dresses.
May you always understand that clothes only highlight out your inner beauty and not the do not contribute to your as a person.Â
October
The games we play. To list them all would be impossible: I simply can't remember them all.
May you always treasure your imagination.
November
A short trip to visit family in Poland brought a renewed interest in all things Polish. It was a linguistic breakthrough, producing a new willingness to speak the language and a new pride in the Polish side of her being.
May you always take enormous pride in your Polish heritage.
December
The year ended with news that the Girl will soon be Big Sister.
May the excitement you felt at the news of your brother's coming be the center of your relationship with him.
The Battle
The warrior comes, a vicious flanking surprise attack with that most feared weapon: the broom.
A fierce battle ensues: experience versus speed, Swiffer Sweeper versus broom.
If only all of our battles were so fun.
And surely, I’ll look back at the epic bedtime battles, the fussy mornings, the frustrated afternoons, and I’ll wish our current battles could return.
