Tonight we attended Wally and Jackie's annual Christmas party. It's a great chance to get together with friends from the Big City.
I barely took any photos, and the only one that turned out was this one.
I left the party thinking three things:
1. All my children love the idea of Santa, but are terrified of seeing the man in person.
2. We don't get to see any of these friends anywhere near enough.
3. There may be a air hockey table in our future.
Some of my favorites. Really, how could I take a bad photo of any of these scrumptious kids? Delicious.
Did your computer just go into overload? Sorry about that. But when you get kids, horses, dogs, a rustic farm, and pumpkins all in one place, it's hard to edit photos.
For the past several years Beth A. and her mom Lynne and sister Amy have invited us up to Lynne's farm for a fall get-together. They painstakingly put together a scavenger hunt where the kids follow clues to find pumpkins. We crunch our way through the woods and the adults catch up while the kids run as fast as we'll let them.
The day always includes rides on a horse or pony, fabulous food, and some sort of crafty fun. This year Anne, John, and Ronan joined in.
I can't think of a more perfect way to run headlong into fall.
Props to Beth for taking nearly all these photos. I actually got to relax and enjoy the walked while she snapped and I tred to talk she and Dave into making their next camera an SLR.
I declare Farm Day 6 a success—a perfect fall day. We are lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people, both family and friends. A special big shout-out to Bryan and Amy (and Matt and Sophie), for traveling the farthest to join us. One from each coast.
The only thing I ask is that next year, someone needs to detach my children from me for 20 minutes so I can run around and take photos. At the end of the night, this picture of Ronan was one of the few sitting in my camera.
Farm Day 7 is October 10, 2009. Mark your calendars!
With half our playgroup shuffling off to kindergarten at three different schools and the other half in three different preschools, it's been tough to find a time where our schedules jive.
So we've settled on every other Sunday night, alternating between mom's night out and family potluck playgroup. If I can't have playgroup, this seems to be a great compromise. Plus, the Dads get to join in, which is always a bonus.
Jodi hosted last night, and for one of the few times in my parenting career I actually relaxed during one of these events. The kids ran and played and the parents actually had time to talk and catch up.
I'm not sure if it's the alignment of the stars or our children getting older that makes these events easier, but I will happily take more of this kind of thing.
(And, yes, Shep was there, but the only photo I have of him is fuzzy and his face is buried in a bag of tortilla chips.)
Yesterday was a great day. One of those magical days where the weather is perfect and the children behave (even Neko!) and I even went to the grocery store with three children and emerged with a smile on my face. Seriously, days don't get much better than that.
Except when you notice a package on your front stoop, and it's addressed to you. Not one of those Publisher's Clearinghouse deals, but a real package.
The package was from our friend Wendi in Brooklyn, and it was addressed to me. And I say "our" friend even though she's really Tom's friend from college, but I've sort of taken 50% of the friendship hostage because she's so great. We love her dearly for so many reasons, and not just because she has a terrific name.
She spent two days standing in our kitchen making our wedding cake, arriving with all her pastry tools by plane from New York less than two weeks after 9/11. She's sent knitted quilts to our children, as well as hats for the whole crew. Did I mention she bucked tradition and wore a red dress at her wedding? And looked fantastic?
In short, Wendi = Fabulous.
Anyway, once I had the kids down for naps I opened the box. And there was a scarf—a gorgeous, cashmere, hand-knitted scarf. In the box was a note saying that she knitted this scarf and decided to send it to someone, and into her mind popped me. I'm still smiling. What a fantastic surprise.
We should all do this more often. Send random things to each other, not on our birthdays, but on a random Tuesday. What a great ray of sunshine in my day.
On Friday, Tom and I realized that we had no plans for the weekend. Although we were looking forward to some time at home, that much time at home seemed a little…um…daunting.
So we decided to head to the zoo in the Big City Up North, which was really fun the last time I went. Four years ago.
Since I was last there, they've put in a small amusement park area, which was clearly designed by interns. The rides were there, but they seem to have run out of money for landscaping, signage, and other critical items that provide ambiance. And then it was kind of weirdly empty, like we were often the only people on rides, which was exciting but somewhat suspicious.
From that point on things were all about the rides and the play area and a meal so devoid of nutritional value I was moved to write a letter. I mean, really, my two child-friendly options are hot dogs and deep-fried macaroni and cheese nuggets? Is that served with a sippy cup of Lipitor? I digress. The kids had fun, and that's what important.
On the way home we stopped by Dan and Chris' house, which the kids had never seen. They've done such a bang-up job, I can hardly believe it's the same house I saw in the original photos. Chris pulled out his old collection of Lego and then the kids discovered the patio made an excellent dance floor and suddenly they were writing up adoption papers and asking to live there. Much dancing, frolicking, and fun was had before we tucked them in the car to go home and sleep in our very own beds.
This whole staycation/daycation thing might have some merit…
Every year Beth brings her niece and nephew to a baseball game and invites along some of us who might not be so…ahem…inclined to attend a game. For this, I'm grateful, because the whole peanuts and Cracker Jack seventh inning stretch business is a part of Americana that really should not be missed.
Shep, I believe, was marking each inning with food, beginning with the pretzel as big as his head and then plowing through grapes and crackers and fruit leathers before he hit the grand finale of cotton candy.
From the time she started moving, we had an inkling that Neko was a little different than the other kids. When other kids pooped out, she had an endless reserve of energy. While other kids played with focus, she bounded from one thing to another. While other kids sat quietly at story hour, Neko ran in circles and pulled books off shelves. Her temper was quick and her will unbreakable.
While I was proud of all the things about her that were so wonderful, I was a little worried, too. The constant mention of ADD/ADHD in the parenting world began to enter my head, and I wondered if that was what we were dealing with. I decided, at the time, that I wouldn't go down the medical path. I wasn't quite ready to get tangled up in world of therapy and decisions about medication. It just didn't seem the right answer at that time.
So we plugged along. When my friend Bena encouraged me to join her baby tumbling class, I thought it sounded interesting. A way to work out her endless energy? Terrific! A class with rules and structure? Not our strong suit. But when Bena assured me the instructor was fabulous, and would understand Neko's challenges, I conceded.
And so we met Semia.
I should have known from the moment we met, she was going to be one of those people we would still send Christmas cards to when we're 84. I remember her saying, "So THIS is Neko!" She told us her sister was named Niko, and she had rarely met another, so this must be something special.
I'm sure Semia sees all kinds of kids in her line of work. Compliant, exuberant, shy, angry, aggressive…I doubt there's much she hasn't dealt with. But it never seems to faze her. She exudes good energy. Just being in her presence is calming, and she seems to know exactly what each child needs.
So she took on Project Neko. She assured me it was okay that Neko would rather run laps around the gym than participate in circle time. She never got frustrated with my often disruptive child. She would repeat instructions when they were ignored and forgotten, always in a kind, patient voice. For four years, I have bent our schedule around making sure Neko was in Semia's class each week because of the changes I saw taking place.
Because she will be starting kindergarten, today was Neko's last Tumblebees class. I thought briefly of trying to figure out a way to get her there after school or on weekends, but it seems like one too many things in our already tight schedule. The commute makes it extra challenging. And when I realized this was it, I burst into tears. Which confused me, because, really, isn't it just a tumbling class?
But it wasn't just a class. I realize that this has been our therapy. Perhaps we did not go down the conventional medical road, but we found a environment and a teacher who was willing to push up her sleeves and take on our challenge. With patience, kindness, and the space of four years, she has been instrumental in helping Neko gain the skills which are allowing her to sail through life today. Each week, Semia has helped her learn to sit still, listen to instructions, follow directions, and take turns. Simple tasks for some children, but monumental for Neko. Somewhere in between there were somersaults and swinging from the bars, but mostly, she learned how to thrive in an environment that demands some structure.
In a few weeks Neko will begin kindergarten. She will go to class. She will pay attention and follow the rules. She will know when to be compliant and when to let herself think bigger and create a new path. She will be fine. She will better than fine—she will flourish.
On this very last day of her little legs running around that great big gym, I know she would never be who she is today without Semia. There aren't enough words to say a big enough thank you. But, THANK YOU.
Seriously, how scrumptious is this kid? Even more delicious in person, if you can believe it.
Marlo and Jeff hosted a small get-together to celebrate Gigi’s first birthday. So nice to gather with their family to celebrate. Hooray for Gigi’s first year and the return of our good friends.