Dear Gwen,
Today you are a hundred-and-two months old.
AKA, EIGHT AND A HALF!
It’s been a great month, with you settling in well to
your various routines and activities. It’s taken you a while to feel “at home”
with your Elf rehearsals, as the director, kids, space, and structure are all
new to you. In fact, a couple of times we even considered cancelling the whole
shebang. All due, as usual, to your emotionally reactive nature. On the day the
roles were assigned, you were assigned to be a random (meaning, nameless and
with no speaking parts) elf. You were devastated and cried all the way home. I
tried – several times, over the next few days – to help you understand two
important things: First, that not all the roles and lines had been assigned yet,
and that you were likely to be given more to do as the rehearsal process
continued; and second, that chorus parts are actually THE BIGGEST ROLE in
theatre. “You’ll be an elf in this song, and then change into other clothes,
and be a New Yorker for this scene, and then change again, and be a store
employee in this song, and then change again, and be an office worker in this
scene …” at least, that’s what I would have said if you would have let me
speak. You preferred instead to shout at me about how miserable you were, and I
couldn’t even finish one phrase. (I should note that this was three days later,
not on that awful drive home. I know better than that!) Sure enough, at the
next rehearsal your director gave you a line: “You bring us down a whole octave!”
I’m still not sure that you understand the entire nature of a chorus role and
the fact that you will be onstage for probably three-quarters of the entire
show, but at least you are happy to go to rehearsals now, and are busily
learning your songs and dances (you’ve already memorized your line).
School is going well, and you have made some new friends
this year. We’re really happy to see you branching out and connecting with a
variety of peers. We’ve given you and your after-school caregiver the freedom
and responsibility to arrange your own playdates this year, so one day a week
you invite a friend to come home with you after school. We’ve met a few of your
friends and there are more to come; and you’re being invited to their houses,
as well. It’s wonderful to know that you are building reciprocal friendships.
You seem quite engaged in school this year, and we often
hear about the various activities of your day. No surprise, your favourite
parts of the week are library time, music class, and science. Last week your
class went on a field trip to a nearby beach to learn about animal habitats (on
one of the most stormy and blustery days of the year, I might add). You were
excited to tell us about meeting a marine biologist, experiencing extreme
weather, and learning about how animals adapt to their environment.
Last week, I got to go to the best parent-teacher interview
ever, where I was able to confirm that your Grade Three teacher REALLY GETS
YOU. The two of us spent over thirty minutes chatting easily and
enthusiastically about how wonderful you are and how much we each enjoy you.
Mrs. S. really appreciates your “divergent and creative thinking”, your
willingness to contribute, your humour, and your powerful vocabulary. She has
no current concerns about your ability to succeed this year – you are right on
target!
Through no fault of your own, your school photos this year
were pretty disappointing. For context, let me remind you (and our fabulous
blog audience) that last year on photo day, you coloured on your forehead with
pencil. You THEN remembered it was photo day, and ‘solved’ the problem by
pulling the hair out of your meticulous ponytails to cover up your pencilly
forehead. And you know what? I paid good money for those photos, because they
showed EXACTLY who you are. This year, in contrast, the proofs contained two
poses that just made me shake my head. The close-up shot is, inarguably, lovely
– but it shows no spark, no glint of Gwen-ness. I can’t find my daughter
anywhere in that photo. The wide shot, with your hand awkwardly placed on your
hip, makes me wonder if the photographer prompted you by saying, “imagine
you’re an alien who doesn’t understand the concept of smiling”. If that’s what
happened – you nailed it. Still not paying for these photos! Retake Day is
scheduled for the day after Halloween, so that’s bound to be successful.
Right after I wrote your last newsletter, your dad
accompanied you to the dentist, where you had three teeth extracted. This was a
tearful and screamy experience as you were very afraid of the needles. At one
point, after you were already frozen, the dentist needed to apply another
needle, and you were terrified, crying and begging him not to. Then he said,
“Gwen, it’s already done. You’re frozen, you didn’t even feel it.” Ha! I keep
hoping you will re-frame the memories of this experience to identify yourself
as a badass who can have teeth pulled and it ain’t no thing. (Because I know
there is more of this in your future.) So far, though, you are still sticking
to “that REALLY sucked and I never want to do it again”. In any case, your
adult teeth are now ready to grow in to the spaces left behind.
At home, you have become quite adept at finishing your
weekly chores, and have had a few daily chores added as well. I imagine this
will only increase once we add a dog to our household in the near-ish future.
I’m really happy that I can count on you to help out. On Saturdays, during
family chore time, you are expected to tidy your room; remove your personal
items from common areas; tidy your bathroom so I can clean it; and do some
dusting. When we first started this a few months ago, it would take over two
hours to drag you (practically kicking and screaming) through the process, and
you would need one of us to sit with you, painstakingly instructing you to pick
up an item, identify it, and put it in its tidy spot … okay, now pick up the
next item … it was painful for all of us. Now, you can pretty much do all of it
on your own, and you barely even need to see the list. On a school day, you
have started to do some of the breakfast jobs yourself: you will get your
backpack ready (with the lunch I pack for you, water bottle, and school
planner); set the table for yourself, including getting out your morning pill;
and pop your waffles into the toaster, all while I am upstairs getting myself
ready. Then I come downstairs in time to butter and cut up your waffles, which
you are still hesitant to do yourself. We talked recently about you taking on
another chore over the next six months, and I laid out some options: doing your
own laundry, making your own school lunch, setting/clearing the table at
dinner, cooking one dinner a week … you latched on right away to that one,
insisting that you could make salads and desserts. (“Salads aren’t dinner,”
your dad grumbled, because he would rather serve/eat straight-up carbs and fat
and skip the veggies altogether. I don’t think one main-dish salad a week would
be a problem for any of us, frankly!) Anyway, I’m glad that our longstanding
baking activities have made you feel comfortable in the kitchen, and I’m
interested to see how we can branch out into meals. Time to dig out those “cook
with kids” cookbooks I bought when you were three, I think!
Last week, we got to enjoy a rare treat: you had a Pro-D day
(day off school) that happened to fall on the same day as my biweekly day off
work, so we got to spend the whole day together. It was so super fun! We worked
on a Halloween craft for your class, wherein you impressed me with your ability
to follow multi-step instructions in order to score paper correctly for the
project. We also went out to Smitty’s for lunch, and played multiple games of
Ticket to Ride (currently your favourite board game, on loan from some friends;
we might just have to buy our own copy). You have taken quite easily to this
game, probably because you’ve played it on the iPad several times and are
familiar with the rules. It’s a pretty easy adjustment to play it “for real”,
after that. It sure is fun to play games with you at this level – you hold your
own pretty well! Ticket to Ride in particular is a great one, because turns go
fast and there is always something to watch and notice, even when your opponents
are taking their turns, so there isn’t a lot of time to get distracted or
bored.
Speaking of games, you have had your first brief forays into
role-playing games recently. You and your dad have created a Dungeons and
Dragons character, and there is a plan in the works for your dad to run a game
with you and our wonderful neighbourhood friends, the Logan family. Isley, the
oldest daughter, babysits you sometimes; Fiona, the youngest daughter, has had
playdates with you and you just went to her birthday party on the weekend. You
haven’t spent much time yet with Lynnea, the ‘middlest’ daughter, but I’m
certain the two of you will click as well, and I’m so excited for the five of
you to play this game together. Coincidentally, one rainy recess break last
week, you wandered into the portable classroom where your music classes are
held, only to discover it was “Games Day”, a club for students from older
grades to gather and play various games over the break, supervised by the music
teacher (of whom we are already extremely
fond). He welcomed you and invited you to join a game, so you got to try
D&D for the first time! You were SO excited to tell Dad and me all about it
when you got home. With a bit of questioning, it turned out that the other
students were in Grade Six and Seven. “And how did the Grade Six and Seven kids
feel about a Grade Three’er joining their game?” I asked. “Well, Mr. Derksen is
in charge, and HE said I could join, so they just had to deal with it.” Ha!
Rock on, kid!
One more adventure we had on our day off came about
completely by coincidence. You’ve been really curious lately about trains, and
specifically about how the railroad crossing gates work and how the trains,
gates, and vehicle traffic interact. Nanaimo’s roads are frequently criss-crossed
by railroad tracks, but the passenger trains haven’t run for years, and I wasn’t
even sure whether there were any freight or cargo trains running; I haven’t
seen an active train in town any time in recent memory. I reached out to an
acquaintance of mine, thinking he might have some information on the subject
(he works at VIU as a Computer Technician, and also holds a seat on the Port
Alberni City Council – neither of which have anything to do with trains. Nevertheless,
he just seemed like a Guy Who Would Know, and my instincts proved correct!). In
turn, he spoke to his contacts at Island Rail, who were able to give us the
schedule of when a train would be travelling right through a busy intersection.
And wouldn’t you know it? One of the days the train would be passing through
happened to be on our day off!
We set out on Friday afternoon in the rain and wind to hang
out near the Northfield/old highway intersection to wait for the train. We
examined the train tracks and the crossing gate so that we could figure out the
best place to stand and how it would all work - then, before long, we heard the
train whistle! We were both really excited and watched eagerly for it to come
round the bend. We saw the light from the engine reflecting off the trees near
the tracks before we could see the train itself. Then the train appeared, and
the crossing gate lowered, and all the traffic stopped. It was quite surreal –
the intersection had been constantly busy since our arrival, which was somewhat
surprising in itself, since it was a weekday afternoon. But almost before I
could notice it, all traffic had stopped in place, waiting for the train to
pass.
As the train approached, it grew so loud, and we could feel
the vibrations shaking the pavement under our feet as it passed us! The
engineer happily waved at us, blowing the whistle all the time as the train
went by. We counted the cars and watched them pass, then the gate raised up
again, the train went on out of sight, traffic resumed, and everything was back
to normal. It was an exciting interlude, well worth getting rained on!
Well, that’s it for this month, Gwen. Happy Half-Birthday to
you, my amazing girl. I’m so glad I get to be your mom and share these
adventures with you!
Love,
Mom
Mom
