Matching Tracksuits

the girl

Charleston Spring

Monday 17 March 2025

We spent yesterday and today in Charleston — a favorite destination when we have a bit of time, a bit of money, and an itch to travel. Only three hours away, it’s a perfect weekend destination.

And even when it’s too cold to go into the water, we have to spend some time on the beach.

We gave the new camera a bit of a workout. It’s a steep learning curve: there are a lot more possibilities than our older cameras (focus modes, for instance), and it’s taking us a while to get used to everything.

Still, the size, the image quality — I think it was a good choice for us as are kids grow up. I won’t be needing to take any more volleyball pictures, and for soccer, I’ll still likely reach for the Nikon given the lens options we have.

Still, for our trip to Greece and Poland this summer, only one camera and one lens.

We took a couple of walks,

I took some pictures of the waves,

and then we headed downtown. The kids wanted to do a little shopping; K and I just split up with them and helped out. Afterward, there was only one place to go before heading back:

Hyman’s — probably the most famous seafood place in Charleston. I almost always order the same thing: there’s only one variant. I’ll always have mussels; I always take the deviled crab; after that, the third is the only variant. Today, I had the salmon croquette. All delicious.

K ate light — too mush sushi the night before.

The Boy, being the Boy, decided to try something new: crawfish. He wasn’t thrilled. He ate them, but decided it was too much work for too little return.

Heading Out for a Walk

Wednesday 15 January 2025

The Boy and I headed out for a walk after dinner. We took the dog, we chatted about school, keyboards (as in computer keyboards — a recent interest of the Boy’s), district band tryouts (tomorrow evening), and random topics (as if that list weren’t random enough). It was another of those “how many more times do we do this?” moments. The Girl didn’t go with us because she had gone to her boyfriend’s house to watch a movie with him.

Everyone’s role slowly shifts.

2025 Day 1

Wednesday 1 January 2025

We always like to begin the new year with something outside. Last year, we were at Hilton Head with Babcia; the year before, we were hiking somewhere — can’t remember the name. This year, with L still recovering (though she’s mostly fine now) and the Boy feeling a bit reluctant, K and I went for a short walk at our favorite park, just the two of us. And the dog.

And a lot more people than usual. But can you blame them? A beautiful New Year’s Day with temperatures in the mid fifties and a blue sky — of course, you’re going outside.

In the evening, we decided on a family movie — a classic. Well, not quite. But the kids had never seen Titanic, and it’s such a 90s film that both K and I have memories of and — well, okay. There’s no reason to watch that film except for the sinking scene.

The Boy watched about half an hour; we made it to the halfway mark. We’ll finish it Friday or Saturday — tomorrow is a sleepover for the Boy. We’ll have a house filled with kids.

Boys. Twelve-year-olds…

Wigilia 2024

Tuesday 24 December 2024

Going into Wigilia sick is no fun. K was ill during the 2011 Wigilia, and I had to make the barszcz as a result. It was probably not as good as K’s.

Still worse than heading into Wigilia sick is going into it after an operation. The Girl’s last Wigilia here as a full-time resident of our house and it was a struggle for her — the whole day.

She stayed in her room for most of the day. “I’m saving my energy for tonight,” she explained.

Evening came and she put some nice clothes on, came down stairs, and had dinner with us. After soup, she took a break in the living room, but she came back for the fish.

When it came time for the gifts, she lay on the couch and smiled as E passed out all the gifts she’d bought for everyone.

That was a bit of a role change: she’s always been so thrilled to get the gifts (what kid isn’t?), but tonight, she was more enjoying watching everyone else open her gifts.

The Girl is growing up. In fact, how long can we continue calling her “the Girl”? Isn’t she legally an adult now? A woman?

But some things never change. Wigilia never changes. The same food every year. Perhaps a different fish — trout this year. Or did we have trout last year as well?

And the same faces around the table, with one exception — a new guest this year.

So if some things don’t always change, if some things just stay the same seemingly forever, I guess the Girl can remain the Girl in our eyes indefinitely.

And what of the Boy this year? He retained his role as the gift distributor, but his voice is a little deeper now when he hands someone a gift.

But some things with the Boy don’t change: he’s still the most grateful gift-receiver.

Everyone, happy with their gifts, discussed whether to go to Mass tonight or tomorrow. They all decided on tomorrow, so we watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. The girls’ pick. I hadn’t seen it since I watched it in the theater, I don’t think.

I checked the release date of the film: 1989. I was two years younger than the Girl is now. And like that, those thirty-five years disappeared.

The movie ended, and like that, yet another Wigilia was over. Everyone slowly went their own ways.

Another Wigilia.

Another little bit of perfection.

Eighteen Years Old

Monday 16 December 2024

Eighteen years ago, the Girl was just that — a newborn treasure, a gift we were to cherish, a future wrapped in a little bundle. That day, she couldn’t open her eyes yet; today, she couldn’t drive to school because her car was in the shop. How things have changed.

That day, my mother and father became Nana and Papa. Their first grandchild had just entered our world, and they were thrilled, ready to laugh at the slightest thing, unwilling to let L out of their sight. Now Nana and Papa are no more, unable to see the strong, intelligent, and beautiful woman the Girl has become.

That day, her future was unclear but promising. Today, there is more clarity, there is more promise, but still more mystery.

18th

Saturday 14 December 2024

Tonight, I believe, was a last of sorts. L had her eighteenth birthday party, and from what I can see, it might be the last birthday party we throw for her. Well, not the last: we’ll throw her parties for as long as we can, but the last time we do it while she’s still living at home.

This was a party the Girl herself planned in large part. She picked the restaurant. She decided which items would be on the menu. She made the guest list and reservations. And for the most part, we were non-participants: the kids stayed in a private room and we took the Boy to the main dining room of the restaurant and went back only when it was time to have the cake.

So different from the parties of the past. In a sense, then, the progression of our parties was a metric for the progression of the Girl. Her first birthday party was completely on us (naturally); her eighteenth, (almost) completely on her. It’s another of those “letting go” moments.

But I can’t say I mind letting this go: it’s nice to see her pick up responsibilities we’ve always taken care of. It’s another sign she’s maturing.

Another sign of maturing: of the guests she invited (and those who came), we knew only a couple. It wasn’t a question of us simply not making the guest list as we used to; we didn’t even know the guests in some cases. Sure, we might have heard the kid’s name, but we didn’t necessarily know who was who. And that’s as it should be as the Girl moves into adulthood.

“The Girl.” I’ve called her that for so long that I can’t think of a time I didn’t call her that. Legally speaking, come Monday, she’ll no longer be the Girl but the Woman. Legally speaking.

Emotionally speaking, she will always be the Girl.

Elf

Wednesday 4 December 2024

Elf has made his yearly appearance, but this year, he seems just to be hanging out in the living room.

“I know it’s you and mom!” the Boy explained last year. And the year before that.

“But still, it’s fun, isn’t it?”

But this year, there it sits. Not moving. Not hiding.

Another sign that everyone is growing up. The traditions of Christmas slowly fall away. The Girl used to write a letter to Santa and leave out a snack. I can’t remember the last time she did that. The Boy searched for Elf. I can remember the last time he did that, but it seems to be just that — the last time.

Should we resist this? Should we try to cling to these things even after the kids have outgrown them? I think not. It’s time to move on, to grow up, to pick up new traditions.

The Elf
Mikołaj 2020

Four Thursday Vignettes

Thursday 14 November 2024

Practice

Every morning I have hall duty in the arts wing. On one side is the band; on the other, strings. I walk back and forth between the two, listening to a beautiful cacophony of kids learning music.

A young lady is practicing her violin part. I recognize the melody.

“Do you know what that is? Who wrote it? What it’s called?” I ask with a smile. The boy standing with her is one of my favorite students, but I don’t teach him. He’s on a team down the hall, but he’s a sweet young man who smiles a lot and is friendly with everyone, so we’ve chat a little almost every morning. He glances at the sheet music at the same time she does. I beat them to it, though.

“Edvard Grieg. It’s called In the Hall of the Mountain King.” One of those pieces we all recognize from this or that film or advertisement, but few can identify by name. “Bet you didn’t expect an English teacher to know that, did you?” I laugh. They both agree it was unexpected, then go back to practicing.

Texting

We received a text this morning about some visitors to our school: we would be having district personnel touring, and they are not paying attention to us teachers; they’re looking for what students are doing. In other words, no need to talk to them or anything. I got admittedly a bit snarky and replied,

Usually, when someone on the group text makes a comment everyone likes, hearts and thumbs-up start bouncing all over the place. For this — nothing. Several teachers later said they appreciated my text, but no one felt comfortable expressing it in a way that everyone could see it. I think that speaks to the overall feeling that seems to be sitting like a low, heavy fog, and if I were to guess, I’d say it’s not just our school.

The Visit

Of course, the district personnel come to my classroom. The first one comes accompanied by our principal. Did he guide her here? As soon as they leave, another administrator brings another district person to our classroom.

It was a good day to visit, truth be told. The kids are having a Socratic Seminar — one of their favorite activities. After we’d watched a bit of Harvest of Shame yesterday in preparation for our unit on immigration stories, we transitioned to Harvest of Shame Revisited — a 2010 return to the topic of conditions migrant farm workers face. The common question on the viewing guide was the same: “Why do these folks earn so little money?” So this morning, I decided to change plans. We discussed that. In a limited way. In a South Carolina way.

All the kids discussed how we could do this or do that, but the bottom line was that all their ideas cost money. “Who’s going to pay?” I pointed out there are a couple of sources, but one is we, the people. “They get paid so little because we want cheap food.” That’s true enough, and it led to the discussion I was intending about the necessity sometimes to sacrifice for the good of others.

Left out of the discussion — the elephant in the room for some perhaps — was the exorbitant salaries of CEOs. Where does that money come from? It can come from the consumers, but it can (many say should) also come from reduced CEO salaries or increased taxes on those earning at that level.

But this is South Carolina. And that is socialism. Not really, but it’s going to be labeled Socialism (always with the capital letter) in many South Carolina homes. And that’s at least part of the reason I didn’t even bring that up.

Truth be told, the fact that it might raise some parents’ dander is only part of the reason. To cover this well, I’d need to get a couple of articles for the kids to read about CEO wages compared to employee wages, and this was a spontaneous lesson. I’d decided to do it only this morning after reading yesterday’s responses. But I do take that ugly s-word into consideration.

Such is teaching in South Carolina.

Teaching the Boy

I’ve been reticent to force my own teaching methods and ideas on our kids. L turned out to be a good writer without my help, but E has been struggling a bit. Still, offers of help but nothing more.

Today, he asked for help with his essay. I showed him how I have my students plan and organize their writing, and he found the technique simple and useful. He went upstairs and rewrote his entire essay using my method.

“The essay is so much better!” he gushed.

“That and the fact that you spent two hours in the evening working on it are things you can be really proud of,” I replied.

“Thank you.”

I’ve always oved that about the Boy: when you complement him, he quietly and modestly thanks you for the complement. It has always made me smile.

Game Night

Friday 8 November 2024

We only have so much time together as a family of four. L will graduate in a few short months, and then her time in our house will be limited to summers. I expect that soon enough, she won’t be staying with us the entire summer. She’ll be twenty, twenty-one years old. She’ll have her own life. She’ll have her own priorities. She’ll have a job that she’ll want to continue working over the summer. Or she’ll have some internship or other. So these evenings are rare.

Some things have, of course, changed, but for poor K, nothing has changed. She always has the absolute worst luck in board games. When we play Monopoly, we call her (and she calls herself) the Slum Lord because she can never manage to get anything other than the very cheapest of properties, and the three of us end up bankrupting her in fairly short order. Tonight’s game of Sorry was no exception. But one other thing stayed the same: we all laughed heartily about it.

Laughing as a family — few things are more precious.

The End

Tuesday 5 November 2024

Before the game

Tonight, L’s volleyball career ended. She won’t be playing in college, and we’ve all decided to use the money we would have put toward a final club season to other uses (like adding some time in Greece this summer for her senior trip). So six years of volleyball came to an end in the second round of playoffs against a team from Clover, South Carolina.

We’ve passed the exit to Clover countless times over the years. It’s just before the turn off highway five to Aunt D’s house — Aunt D, who helped take care of both Nana and Papa, who has a heart that gives endlessly. We commented often on how funny it was that there was a town named after our dog. Strange how these little turns appear unexpectedly in our lives: L’s final game in a town we’ve known and had a private joke about for years but which we never would have imagined visiting.

Eyeing the defense

In a sense, that’s been the common theme of L’s volleyball career. To begin with, when she mentioned in sixth grade that she wanted to try out for the middle school volleyball team, I was a little surprised. She’d played soccer at the Y as a kid, but she wasn’t interested in continuing it. If she devoted her free time to anything, I would have, back then, assumed it would have been dance. She always seemed a bit more showy than athletic as a young child. But once she made her decision to try out for the team, nothing could stop her. Not even not making the team the first year. If anything, that increased her determination.

Entering the rotation for the last time

Once she became obsessed with volleyball, I never would have imagined she could be part of a state championship team. Such occurrences are fairly rare: one has to be at the right place (or rather, on the right team) at the right time. But two years ago (almost to the day), her high school team took the state championship.

One final kill

There was a time it seemed unimaginable that she wouldn’t play volleyball in college. She seemed so dedicated to it, and she was improving by leaps and bounds each year. But it was not to be: she didn’t get any interest from any of the colleges she wanted to attend, and she made the decision that she wouldn’t choose a college just because she could play volleyball there.

Of course, there were the initial expectations about this year. “We’re not going to win any games this year!” she declared after the first few practices and warm-up tournaments. And it seemed like they wouldn’t be able to get their game together, but the did. And they finished second in the region.

After the game

They got further than they ever expected; they achieved more than they thought they could. But that last game — it was tough to go out like that. They just couldn’t get things together, achieving the same dismal results in the first two sets: 14-25. I thought they’d fall apart completely in the third set, but they got themselves together and took the game to a fourth set with a 28-26 win in the third. In the fourth set, they had the same trouble they had in the first two sets and lost 17-25.

Under the net one last time

It was a tough way to end a wonderful six years of volleyball, and the Girl had difficulty holding back the tears. She broke down after last year’s final game as well. She said it was out of sadness for losing the seniors: “It’s the last time I’ll play with them.” I think in the back of her head, though, she knew in a year it would be her turn. She wants to put herself forward as a no-nonsense type of kid, but I think she’s got just a little of my sentimentality in the mix.

Last Time

Wednesday 30 October 2024

Tonight was the last time the Girl went through the introduction ceremony at Mauldin High. They won their playoff game, but they won’t be playing at home anymore this season. A bittersweet moment to be sure.

Senior Night

Monday 28 October 2024

Tonight was the Girl’s last regular-season volleyball game. Not of the year. Of her high school career. We have at least one more game as playoffs start: we’ll be playing someone somewhere this Thursday, but we won’t know until tomorrow morning who and where.

Six years of volleyball are coming to an end. It’s hard not to get a little emotional about that. Last year, with the conclusion of the season’s final game (the second or so round into the playoffs — perhaps the first? I can’t remember), L was in tears at the end of the game. “It’s just that’s the last time we’ll be playing with our seniors,” she said as she explained that she wasn’t in tears so much because of the loss.

The shoe is on the other foot now, one could argue. It’s the other girls who should be crying because they’re losing L. “It’s just that we’ll never play with L or S again,” they should be saying. Or maybe the tears last year weren’t just about the senoirs leaving.

Before the game, we had a ceremony with intros, pictures, and cheers. The girls on the team made gift baskets and posters for the two seniors, and there was a display in the gym entry. The coach had asked parents last week to send some pictures of the girls from various points in their childhood and in their volleyball careers, and she chose a baby picture of each girl and had t-shirts made for the parents. Coincidentally, she chose the same picture Papa’s coworkers chose years ago to make a shirt for him as he retired (for the second time? third?).

After the coin toss and warmups, the girls were introduced — possibly the last time L is introduced on her home court where the cheers are the loudest and most sincere.

As for the game itself, it was a fairly simple matter: Greenwood’s divisional record before tonight was 1-12. We’d already beaten them once, and we won easily tonight. But I have to hand it to those Greenwood girls: it takes a lot to keep coming out game after game when you’re stacking up loss after loss, almost all of them in straight sets.

Afterward, there were the usual shots — with the unusual shirts.

Final Games

Thursday 24 October 2024

The end of an era is nearing. Tonight was the next-to-last home game in L’s high school volleyball career. It’s likely to be highly emotional on Monday when it’s the last home game, but tonight, there wasn’t time for emotion. It was time for revenge.

Our girls were playing Hillcrest, a team that beat them 1-3 earlier in the year. However, they lost in five sets to Easley, whom our girls beat soundly in straight sets the first time they met this season and won again (though in five sets) the other night at home. It was, in my eyes, a must-win game.

The Girl thought so, too.

The Mavs started off weakly, though: they trailed most of the first set, and in the end, lost it 19-25. “The Hillcrest girls are so confident,” K observed, “despite the fact that they’ve lost their last five matches.”

Everyone knew the second set was a critical set: lose it, and it would be hard to win the match. Reverse sweeps are not unheard of, but they are rare. We pulled ahead quickly in the second set, and then launched a huge attack that ended the set with a 25-17 win.

One set each makes the third set the momentum-maker: whoever wins that one needs to win only one more set. At first, I didn’t think our girls wanted it: they trailed by about five at one point. But they pulled back and pulled ahead. Then they let Hillcrest catch up. In the end, though, they held them off and won 25-22.

The momentum was definitely on our girls’ side of the court that fourth set: they pulled ahead after being behind 1-4 and never looked back, winning a deciding third set 25-22. It extended the Hillcrest girls’ losing streak to six, and while I usually don’t like seeing someone lose like that, I didn’t mind too much tonight.

Neither did our girls.