the girl | matching tracksuits

Backyard Photo Walk

Sunday 05 June 2011 | 1 Comment

"Can I take a picture?" It's a common refrain whenever I bring home the small point-and-shoot I use in the classroom.

The Girl especially likes going for photo walks in our back yard.

I tag along with a camera too big for her even to hold, taking pictures of her taking pictures.

Back in the house, we transfer the pictures to the computer. I straighten a few of hers, delete several blurred ones, and correlate them with my own photos.

"You're silly, Tata," I hear behind me, "Taking pictures of me taking pictures."

"They were laughing at us." L had just gotten off stage, and K, backstage to help with the recital, was there to greet her. Indeed, we in the audience were laughing a great deal through the night, but it obviously bothered some of the children, our daughter included.

Why did we laugh? I fumbled about with an explanation yesterday, but I went to bed thinking about it and woke up with it still on my mind.

If adults had been doing this, we might have called it a disaster. They stumbled about sometimes. They often looked to the side, desperate for a cue from someone wiser. Some stood, looking at the others, trying to remember what they should be doing at this or that particular moment. They were only vaguely uniform at some points, with some putting their arms down as others just began raising theirs.

Yet because they were children, everything changed. Disasters became masterpieces: flubs became arabesques; stumbles transformed into bourre; miscues became fouette; hesitant jumps became grand jets.

Further, if these had been adult dancers, they never would have appeared on stage. Ego would have prevented it, and that's part of what we mean when we say that these children are cute because they're innocent. They're not so concerned with unattainable perfection, and they're filled with joy just to be dancing.

I think we laugh, then, because we see ourselves in these little dancers and realize that, in so many ways, they have more courage than we have, and we laugh at the joy that courage brings us.

Recital

Thursday 02 June 2011 | 3 Comments

Parenting is often about firsts when there's only one child. First this, first that -- first dance recital.

I've never been interested in dance, but even if I were, I'd pick a small-town dance school's summer recital over even the greatest ballet. There's a charm and an innocence in the young girls that unifies an auditorium filled with strangers and makes us all feel truly optimistic for 120 minutes.

Of course, it was the Girl's scene that stole my heart.

Later, we had a sad conversation. "Tata, they were laughing at us."

How do you explain the joy behind the laughter? How do you explain that the audience was enjoying the performance so much that it brought them to laughter? K and I tried, but I'm not sure we convinced her.

Practicing

Tuesday 24 May 2011 | 0 Comments

K and I have been concerned about L’s attentiveness in Mass on Sunday. We’ve come to realize that she’s reached that age that quite, unobtrusive behavior is not the goal; participation is the goal.

To that end, we’ve been practicing after school. We stand for prayer, kneel at the end table, sit quietly. We practice crossing ourselves, including one of the oldest variants.

“When do we kneel?” I ask.

“When the priest sets the holy bread,” L replies.

Sometimes the simplest way is the best.

Rehearsal

Saturday 14 May 2011 | 3 Comments

When is working not working?

Sunday 08 May 2011 | 0 Comments

When it’s playing.

Beatification

Saturday 30 April 2011 | 0 Comments

Poles around the world are celebrating today's beatification of Ioannes Paulus PP. II, born Karol Wojtyła and known to most of us as John Paul II. As with his death, most wanted a commemoration that would please John Paul II.

Poles in the Greenville area celebrated with an outdoor Mass and picnic.

With some free advertising from a Polish-owned market in the Charlotte area, probably two hundred people Poles from South Carolina, North Carolina, and Georgia gathered in a park outside Spartanburg. A cookout and impromptu ~~soccer~~ football match followed a Mass under a canopy of new leaves in celebration of a newly beatified Pole.

The Mass included a number of songs, anecdotes, and poems about John Paul II, including an encore performance of "ÅšwiÄ™ty, ÅšwiÄ™ty UÅ›miechniÄ™ty," the song L sang for the Palm Sunday celebration a few weeks ago.

This time, she had a backing choir and a boom operator.

After Mass, everyone did what Poles do best: converse and share food.

There were piles of sausages, bowls of chips, salads of all descriptions, and a table of deserts, and though it was intended to be a "feed your own family" picnic plan, everyone ranged among the groups, sharing food and laughter (among other things).

The children played

the adults talked,

and the priest played ~~soccer~~ football.

Family, sports, dancing, laughing, and Mass --

JPII was certainly smiling.

Sanding

Friday 22 April 2011 | 0 Comments

The Girl has been asking for a sandbox for weeks, though she hasn't done so in as many words. Instead, she's been playing in whatever dirt she can find, taking her beach toys out to the patch of driveway that is unpaved and playing in the dirt there as if it were sand. She has taken Baby out and made dirt angels; she has created vast mountain ranges only to demolish them with both feet; and she has sprinkled dirt all over her legs until she was a dusty mess.

This week, Papa and I decided it was time to make a proper sandbox, complete with a mesh cover to discourage local cats from turning it into an enormous litter box.

"Why don't you just go buy one of those turtle sandboxes with the lid?" Nana asked, knowing perfectly well that it was out of the question: a man must build his daughter's sandbox, not purchase it at some chain store.

No, a father and grandfather must pull out every power tool available -- yes, even the router -- to create a mishmash masterpiece.

But that's only the smallest portion of the fun.

Swiety, Swiety Usmiechniety

Thursday 21 April 2011 | 0 Comments

Independent Hands

Sunday 10 April 2011 | 0 Comments

It’s only expected that a four-year-old grows more independent daily. Lately, that independence has moved out of the normal realms of the everyday, personal actions — bathing, brushing hair, cleaning teeth — and into more wide-ranging spheres: cooking and buying.

She wanted aÂ quesadilla the other day, so I asked if she’d like to help make it.