matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

the girl

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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.

 

Teaching the Boy

Thursday 06 March 2014 | 0 Comments

The Boy and the Girl often end the evening together in the tub. "Bubbles!" cries the Boy as he runs to get L.

Sometimes, L gets an urge to play teacher.

Double Down!

Wednesday 05 March 2014 | 0 Comments

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Snaggle-tooth Girl

Sorting

Monday 03 March 2014 | 0 Comments

Evening play with the Boy: we put the cards out on the steps, one at a time, sorting. We place Emily on Emily, Thomas on Thomas, and it's all going quite well for the first few cards. E takes a card, looks at it, and places it on the right stack. Soon there are three stacks, and the accuracy decreases. Soon, with five, six stacks, he loses interest in place them on the right stack and simply begins tossing cards on the stairs.

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Later, as L is working on her homework, the Boy begins rifling through a pack of bandages. One variety: no sorting, but still there's the question of manipulation, of getting them all in a stack, all in a row, so to speak.

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It's captivating to watch, whether cards or Band-Aids, because we never really know what he's trying to do, and I'm not sure he does, either. Patterns emerge that seem to be purposeful then disappear into new chaos.

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Home Again

Sunday 02 March 2014 | 0 Comments

When I was a kid, my father went on business trips once or twice a year -- South Africa, England, and various states in the US. For me, it was a highlight, because we often got to take him to the airport. Watching planes take off and land from the observation deck was sheer heaven for a small boy. Of course the real highlight came on his return, for he always brought something back for us from wherever he sent. It was a bit like Santa in September.

An acquaintance at church mentioned at the post-Christmas-concert pot-luck that in 2013, he'd been in something like fifty countries on business. That's a lot of time in a plane, a lot of time away from one's family, a lot of nights in hotels. I both envy him and pity him. Seeing that much of the world would certainly be a blessing, and it would certainly help one appreciate what's here in the States and likely produce a sense of the possibilities based on what's in other countries. Travel changes the traveler forever. Still, so much time away from home, from family, makes it a bad trade.

As a teacher, I don't get many opportunities to go on business trips. Conferences are about the extent of it. So when I do go for a conference somewhere, I realize anew how much of an aggravation ten countries a year -- let alone fifty countries a year -- would be. But I also smile at the thought of seeing L's smile when I say, "Come here, sweetie, I brought something back for you."

Barszcz in the Family

Wednesday 26 February 2014 | 0 Comments

What Polish family would be truly Polish if barszcz weren't a favorite? For as long as I can remember, the Girl has adored it, placed it almost at the very top of her favorite food list -- just below pizza, of course.

The Boy has been warming to the idea, and tonight, he decided it was time to get serious about beet root soup.

Somehow he managed to get two spoons, and he did make use of both of them.

That only left one family member: the cat. K, though, solved that problem today, taking a few seconds that L hadn't managed to finish, running them through a food processor to grind up the sausage (the poor old girl has lost almost all her teeth), and pouring the resulting purple mush into Bida's bowl.

And so now it's official: the Scott family, to a person/cat, loves beetroot soup.