Mommy's Pen

A writer's notes on family

You are here: Home / Archives for Growing Pains

Growing Pains

Dear Nora, It’s Monday and You’re Gone

by

IMG_6561Dear Nora,

It’s Monday and you’re gone. I just dropped you off. Daddy and I won’t see you again until Wednesday. That’s the first time you’ve been away from both of us for that long. Daddy came to school to surprise you and give you a proper good-bye. It was just what you needed.

You gave hugs and kisses and bravely boarded the bus.

I made sure the driver of the charter bus was sober and appeared competent. He looked like the kind of guy who’d be able to concentrate on his driving with a bus full of boisterous third graders behind him. So that’s good.

I took a deep breath and watched the bus pull away. You’re heading for three days of fun at a farm with your entire class.

I know you were a little bit worried about being away. I’m so glad you told me you were nervous, so I could tell you that’s totally normal. On the drive to school when I asked you, “What if one of the parents just wouldn’t let their kid go?” and you said, “That would be terrible!” I knew you’d be just fine with the short separation.

You did a great job taking responsibility for your packing. And thanks for reminding me of all the things I would need to take care of while you were gone (putting the chickens away at night being first and foremost).

You wondered if Alma would miss you.

We all miss you.

I miss you and daddy bickering at the dinner table about your legs kicking him because you wiggle so much. I miss our talks about Harry Potter. I miss the pictures you are constantly drawing and the characters you event. “Serpentina” might be the coolest name I’ve ever heard.

I miss you pestering me to read to you. I miss you reading to me. I can’t believe how good your reading is getting. I know you think you have the Chamber of Secrets memorized, but you are reading it when you’re reading aloud to me. I can tell. You’re figuring out every word. You’re learning the magic reading and it will be your treasure forever.

Think of all the great reading time in the hammock you’ll have this summer. School ends next week!

We need to start making our fun list. Trips to the library and farmer’s market, for sure. What else?

Your teacher sent photos from today and all the kids look so happy. I thought there was a photo of you, it was kinda blurry and small.  It turned out to be Zella. I could tell because she was wearing sneakers and you hate sneakers. You wore your Chaccos.

This afternoon I ate two hotdogs.  They were Whole30 compliant, but they had too much sodium and I got the salt rages for a few hours. Or maybe I was just cranky because I missed you.

Love,
Mom

 ***

Dear Nora,

It’s Tuesday and you’ll be relieved to hear that daddy and I remembered to close the chicken coop last night. “All six in the mix,” as you would say. Our hens are safe from predators for another day. I haven’t collected eggs yet, though. I’ll do it before you get back.

Last night, Daddy decided to try to sleep in the big bed with Alma and me. Alma kept kicking him, and he gave up about 10:30 and went to the upstairs bedroom. Does Alma kick you during the night? I never hear you complain about it. You’re such a heavy sleeper, maybe you sleep through it.

Ms. Blaser sent more pictures today and I saw you! Well, I saw the back of you, in your blue shirt and your straw hat. You were in a line of kids hiking on a trail. From what I can tell, the place you’re staying at is beautiful. Maybe if you still want to be a farmer when you grow up, your farm will look something like that. A big white house and lots of pasture.
Don’t worry, Alma is not walking steadily yet. And we’re not making her practice. We’re waiting for you. (But, of course, I was kidding when I said I’d yell at her if she tried.)

Guess what I’m wearing today? One of your dresses! I’m behind on laundry (as usual) and I found one of yours in the clean pile. It’s a Tea Collection one, the one I got you this spring that matches Alma’s. It’s pretty ridiculous on me, as I’m sure you can imagine. It’s shorter than I would normally wear. But it’s fun to wear it, thinking of all the times you wear my dresses. And I like trying to imagine if you’d be angry about it or not.

How are you already big enough that we can wear each other’s clothes?

It’s later in the day now and someone sent me a picture of you, just you, on your trip. You’re holding a bit of wool fleece and it’s a close up of your beautiful face. You look hot, happy and a teensy worn out. You know I’m a crier, so you know what happened next.

I’m missing you in the best possible way, knowing you are right where you should be, right when you should be, and looking forward to seeing you again.

I thought of a few more things for our summer fun list:

  • Finish making our dolls
  • Make pompom animals
  • Open swim at Sellwood Pool

I got a little work done on the revision for Martha and the Boys today. I’ll read you what I have when you get back. That’s another thing we can do this summer, you can give me feedback on the re-write. I’m realizing any good revision is a big revision. If you can revise it too easily, you’re probably not making a big enough improvement. At first I thought this new idea would be easy to work into the story, but now I see it impacts so much. All the feelings of the characters are changing as a result of making the mama cat belong to Martha. I think it’s going to be a much better book when I’m done. Especially with advice from you and daddy and my SHEG group.
That book couldn’t have been written without you. Being your mom has made me grow and try things I would never have imagined ten years ago.

I think I know another series of books you might like. It’s called A Series of Unfortunate Events and it’s about orphans. It’s just right for a girl who says she doesn’t like “games about cute hamsters who live together in harmony,” but rather, is “the person who wants to play violent orphans on an abandoned ship.”

Alma was a bit fussy this afternoon. Maybe it’s the down-(milk)stream effect of yesterday’s hotdogs. Or maybe she’s missing you, too. I’m giving her lots of water and hugs. So we’re covered both ways.

Love,
Mom

 ***

Dear Nora,

It’s Wednesday morning and my first thought when I opened my eyes was “I get to pick up Nora today!”

My next thought was, “I wonder if Ben made coffee.”

Then, “I have to pee, but this baby is attached to my breast.”

Alma refuses to wake up today. Perhaps she just plans on sleeping straight through until it’s time to pick you up? Unfortunately, she can’t. I’m teaching my last handwork class today, so she’s got to go hangout with Peach for a few hours.

During my class with the second graders on Monday, all the kids were ohh-ing and ah-ing over the big fake tattoo on my arm. Let’s do another one this weekend. And, yes, I know I still owe you two dollars for it.

Hopefully, I’ll get another good story or two from my classes today. I’m quite sure I’ll cry. Especially saying good-bye to the second graders.

Right after that, I get to go pick you up! The ships are coming in today for Rose festival. Fingers crossed we don’t get stuck in traffic.

I’ll take good care of you tonight. You’ll probably be pooped out. You might be cranky. You’ll definitely need a bath. You’re an introvert, which means big social happenings like this need an equal amount of down time to recover your energy. It’s important to make quiet time for yourself. You’re getting good at figuring that out on your own.

Daddy and I give you hugs and snuggles and good food. And an early bed time. You’re welcome.

See you soon.

Love,
Mom

This post was lovingly sponsored by my Patreon Supporters (you can become one, too!). 

When Waldorf Kids Go Gangsta

by

A few nights ago, Nora’s school hosted a “Journey Through the Grades” event.  It was a chance for parents to move from classroom and classroom and get a glimpse of the Waldorf cirriculum for elementary through middle school.  It was a great experience.  Grown-ups sat at tiny desks, singing songs and drawing pictures.  We all left happy.

But perhaps even more enlightening was the half hour spent before the event with other kindergarten parents.  Halfway through the year, we are all starting to loosen up around one another. 

 I was telling the Louie’s mother (names have been changed, as they don’t know I’m blogging about them) about shenanigans Nora and Louie had been up to.

“Did I tell you about the trap?”  I asked.

“No!”

“Nora and Louie set a trap for Harry.  Out on the playground the dug a hole and covered it with sticks, hoping he’d fall into it!”

Harry’s father happened to be sitting right there and his ears perked up.  Nora and Harry had a history of not getting along.  Harry had called Nora little.  (She is, especially compared to kids in her class from a year to three years older.)  We had done some role playing on how to handle these kinds of comments without getting upset:  “Why, yes, I am smaller than you because I’m younger.” etc.

Harry’s dad then told of the day Harry came home with a huge, bruised bite mark on his shoulder which he said Nora had given him.

“Little Nora did that?” Harry’s dad asked him.

“She’s little but she can hold her own,” the five-year-old Harry replied.

Nora had told me that she and Harry were getting along better lately.  But all I could get out of her was, “We worked it out.” 

Indeed.

As my friend Monica likes to say, sometimes that girl is straight up gangsta.

Slaying vs taming

by

The story of Michaelmas has a few different versions.  In the version you tell to older kids, St. Michael slays a dragon with a sword.  In the younger kid version, the dragon is “tamed.”  Less gruesome, right? 

No, just confusing.  Nora has heard both versions, and she says, “If something is tamed, that means it’s dead.”

Please, no one tell my dog.

The Smallest Girl in the Room

by



Nora’s preschool sends home a report every day.  Here’s last Friday’s report:

Nora plays a wicked air guitar when we sing Rock N’ Roll ABCs.  Her ability to match letter sounds is awesome.

Nora was feeling sad after a couple of friends made comments about her size.  I assured her and the rest of the class that everyone is special and unique.

Have a fun weekend! (Closed Monday)

Nora had her three year well child visit last Wednesday.  She in about the fifteenth percentile for height.  Our doctor is not concerned and neither are we.  I am five-foot-one.  Ben is five-foot-eight or nine.  I’m reminded of comedian Rob Schneider saying of he and his wife, “We are breeding down.  We’re going to be Shetland people.”

But the report of kids saying mean things about Nora’s stature had Ben very upset.  Naturally, he doesn’t want anyone making his girl sad.  It must have been on Nora’s mind, too.  After dinner, while I was loading the dishwasher, she told me, “You’re not strong enough to be at school — you’re not big enough.” 

“Yes I am!” I replied.  I got down on my knee next to her.  “And so are you, Nora.  You’re the best growing up girl I know.  You eat healthy foods and you’re growing bigger everyday.  You’re exactly the size you should be and I’m very proud of you.”

Later, as I lay with her for a few minutes at bedtime, she said, “Do you know what happened at school?”

“No, what happened?”  I asked.

Details began to trickle out without me having to even turn on the tap.  Mr. Ian, her usual teacher, was not there.  There weren’t very many kids at school due to the holiday weekend.  So the “Pre-K” kids came into Nora’s preschool class and according to Nora, “They didn’t like anything.”  It’s my guess that these are the “friends” (a generic term they use for all the students) who commented on her size, not her usual classmates, who are familiar with her big personality.  They may have been irritated at being herded into a room with younger kids, so they took it out on the smallest girl in the room.

This is our first brush with older kid style bullying.  This is not a toddler struggle over toys.  This is power-play type stuff.  And it’s inevitable.  And it’s going to hurt. 

Our job is to make the ground under her feet solid, her job is to learn to stand on it.