the girl | matching tracksuits

Pumpkin Patch

Sunday 21 October 2012 | 0 Comments

We first went in 2007: a Girl, a camera, wonderful afternoon light, and lots of time.

The next year, we took a photo that was a personal favorite picture for a very long time -- still is, in fact. Our first year in the pumpkin patch and the Girl was exceedingly playful. Giggles all afternoon.

The next year, it was the same. It was a photo shoot that almost shot itself: all I had to was point and shoot, literally. The Girl took care of all the rest. She was so easily excited, and almost everything thrilled her instantly and completely.

By 2010, she was a little lady. Photos were fine, but they had to be in some meaningful context. Gone were the days of, "Put her by that pumpkin" and clicking away. She wanted to help. She wanted to lift. She wanted to compose.

"I'll just move this one over and then sit down..."

Today, though, she had competition. And while the Boy was an easy target -- he can't move, so there's little choice; he can't talk, so there are few protests -- the Girl had other ideas.

The Boy was far too fascinated with the straw and hay to make much of a fuss about anything. The only trick was trying to get him to sit up long enough. Then we hit on the idea of holding him in such a way that the support was not immediately visible. Then we just gave up and shot.

We managed to talk the Girl into a few photos,

but she was far more interested in picking a pumpkin, and even more interested in hauling said pumpkin to the wheelbarrow.

And so I guess we'll be recreating all the autumnal photo shoots with the Boy that we had with the Girl over the last few years. I can't imagine more exciting prospects.

Final Game

Saturday 20 October 2012 | 0 Comments

The Girl and her team completed the 2012 fall soccer season with a tie — perhaps the best way for everyone, on both teams, to finish.

The Girl ends the season playing goalie, making two saves and allowing the tying goal because she was unaware that, while she couldn’t touch the ball with her hand outside “the box,” she could certainly kick it.

Trusty

Monday 15 October 2012 | 0 Comments

“Will you need your trusty gloves?” the Girl asks. We’re getting ready to go another backyard adventure — our own little version of the Backyardigans — and she is packing her bag. Among other things, she has retrieved her and my work gloves (in as much as hers are work gloves), but she can’t decide if we need them.

“Go ahead and pack them,” I tell her, and we’re off — first for a series of pictures.

“When I say ‘snap,’ you take the picture,” she instructs. She says it three times; I take three pictures. Simple.

As we march through the backyard, I learn that everything is “trusty” today: I have with my my trusty camera; she has packed her trusty binoculars; she’s worried about her gloves in her trusty bag.

Everything is so trusty, and I ask her what it means to be “trusty.”

“That means it knows you can trust it,” she explains.

And it gives me pause. In that case, am I trusty? As a parent, I almost assume I’m trusty. Perhaps it’s parents’ eternal worry that they are never as trusty as their children assume and need them to be. Maybe it’s easier said than done. There are certainly times when doubt seems to be the only appropriate response — a moment of reflection that makes us think, “I guess I could always do better.”

In the end, I know I always want my children to think of me as their “trusty Tata,” and I always worry a bit that I’m not living up to that.

Throw Away

Sunday 14 October 2012 | 0 Comments

I think we're almost all pack rats by nature. Sure, there are the few that throw away everything and anything the moment it's clear that the object no longer has an immediate use. Then there are those whose homes are garbage heaps with little paths through the clutter, people who ironically enough stand a reasonable chance of ending up on this or that reality show.

L has always been a bit of the latter. She'll try to keep broken objects for sentimental reasons, even if she has a replacement. A prime example of this is her princess umbrella collection. Various department stores sell them, and L has bought three or four over the last few years. They're flimsy, though, and break easily.

Convincing her that she needed to throw the broken umbrella away, though, has always been tricky. It took her a bit of time to warm up to the idea. Today, we pointed out that the umbrella is broken -- again. "We'll need to throw it away," K began, probably sure that the conversation wouldn't result in much more than a bit of begging and fussing.

"Okay," came the reply.

Some days, she's a bigger girl than I realize.

Autumn Saturday

Saturday 13 October 2012 | 0 Comments

Saturday morning has a new routine since the Girl began playing soccer. Up at eight; on the field by nine — it’s a busy morning.

Evenings, things return to normal.

And that normal includes a boy who loves to smile.

And does it well.

Autumn Sun

Wednesday 10 October 2012 | 0 Comments

It’s the angle — no doubt. The sun is hitting the earth at a decreasing angle as the northern hemisphere moves further and further away from the sun. Yet that astro-mechanical explanation somehow doesn’t do justice to the quality of light this time of year. We sit down for an early dinner and the light outside is simply magnetic. OneÂ must head out to the deck to get a closer look.

As the sun goes down, though, attention turns to more important things. The Girl can now read a book — a single book — to E. Perhaps in the recent past it would have been more a question of memorization than anything else, but these days, there’s no question she’s reading.