My 8-year-old

Hadley turned 8 last Friday. It isn't her year to have a friend party so she had a play date with two close friends Friday night. They made sundaes and played. No invitations, no decorations, no piles of cheap-soon-to-be-forgotten toys. Her current BFFs, Kaylee and Alexis came. She got a cool drawing book and some craft projects.

As always, the birthday girl gets to choose the menu for the day, within reason. Hadley picked pancakes, with strawberries and whip cream for breakfast, daddy's spaghetti for lunch (love that thermos), and pancakes with syrup (and spinach to make it healthy!) for dinner.

We celebrated Hadley's birthday as a family on Sunday. Since we don't have have family in town, we invited our Saginaw family (aka our Bible study). Again, we made sundaes with Hadley's favorite flavor: neopolitan. Then we watched Hadley open gifts. Her sister gave her a Furr-Real Pet bird (a stuffed bird that chirps and flaps). We gave her roller skates, a pair of shoes and a swimsuit. Beau and Teagan brought a mini-stamper and lip gloss! Grandma and Grandpa Wells bought an adorable dress that she wore to school on her birthday and the other Grandma and Grandpa gave her money to buy a dress for her doll at the American Girl store in Chicago (where she went on a father/daughter trip at the beginning of the month and I yet to write about...).

All those great gifts, and as usual, it was Tom who won the prize for most memorable gift. Tom is more into creating memories and fun than into picking a gift off a list of desires. Somehow, he had teased Hadley enough that she thought he was giving her a tarantula (which intrigued and terrified her). The rest of us played along, since Hadley clearly enjoyed guessing what was in daddy's box.

"Well, Daddy wouldn't give you something that would hurt you, so if it is a spider, it must be tame."

"Maybe it's a bunch of little spiders..."

Hadley was bursting by the time present-opening began. She wanted to open daddy's gift first. I videotaped this gift opening. None of us noticed Tom during the process, but watch him fidgeting in the background. Click here to see the video of what ensued.

Thanks to our friends who help make our girl feel loved--all-year--long.

Hadley wouldn't hold the snake for a long time, but Kassy liked it. She named the snake Ashley! (Kassy is wearing a shirt on top of her leotard. )

With the Furr-Real friend, whose name is Apple ("because she is red, yellow, and green--like apples."

The guy is Jordan. He lives with us. I haven't written about that either....I know I am behind.  

Hadley and her doll, in the official horseback riding outfit of the colonial period, at the American Girl restaurant....more about that trip later. 

Scarves to Treasure

My grandmother knits. Knit isn't really the right word. I knit. After Hadley was born, I needed a new hobby so I took a knitting class. And for about two years, I knit standards like dishcloths. Truthfully? It was drudgery. And the results screamed, "New, impatient knitter."(Though I did teach who my sister-in-law to knit and she is quite talented.)

My Grandma though, she creates art through knitting. Growing up I remember watching her. She tore beautiful fabric into giant balls of "yarn" and then knit with that. Her work was creative. The clothes she knit were different and beautiful, but too daring for a peer-concerned tween to wear. And when she knit with real yarn, it wasn't standard, from-the-sale-rack-at-Joanne's yarn. It was always luxuriously soft fiber knit into a one-of-kind blanket or table cover, the kind you proudly point out to guests.

I remember the transformation of my mom's childhood bedroom at the farmhouse. ( I must confess that I don't know if my memory is very accurate.) It was a gorgeous room with huge windows, lots of natural light, and on sunny days, delightful rainbows from the prisms in the pane glass.  Grandma transformed that room into her studio. She painted the ceiling turquoise (at a time I remember walls as being either white or wall-papered) and then put lattice all over it. And the walls were a warm shade of orange. Light, color, and knitted art. It was a room to escape to. I remember lingering with all the pretty things: newly knit outfits, soft balls of yarn, gleaming, colorful knitting needles and displays of personal treasures. An artist's studio.

For several years now, my otherwise healthy Grandma has been losing her sight. Doctors can't stop the loss. It just is. Like diabetes or Parkinson's. I don't know what it's like to slowly have the world darken and to lose the ability to do things you love like read and make things pretty (or make pretty things). I don't know what's like to not be able to drive or to see your own writing clearly. I imagine it's lonely, especially when added to the constant loss of friends and family experienced by all octogenarians. Even as I grieve for Grandma,  I still don't call or write enough. Even so, despite a distance of almost 800 miles and a lack of face to face time, Grandma remembers us often and recently sent us a new, silken treasure.

Last week, a package of Christmas presents arrived in the mail. Wrapped in tissue paper were two scarves. Christmas presents for the girls in March. Warm scarves in time for spring. Beautiful, silken scarves. Knit by my grandma. Made with determination and sacrifice. She couldn't strain her eyes to do the knitting for more than five or ten minutes a day. And she had to wait for her friend to visit to tie knots and do some finishing work. And all winter it snowed and snowed and snowed some more so the friend couldn't come often. So December came and went, but Grandma kept working and eventually those scarves arrived, unanticipated, in my foyer.

Grandma's note said the girls were to use the scarves in their creative play (she knows they dress up and pretend to be all sorts of things). I struggled with the note. I wanted the girls to love the scarves and play with them. But that meant some level of scarf abuse, which horrified me. I wanted to snatch up those scarves and make the girls understand the effort involved in their creation. Admist all their sparkly, cheap things, I wanted them to see that the scarves are truly beautiful. I did speak to the girls about the effort the scarves required. But I let them play as they wish (No leaving the scarves on the ground though).  I know that some of the creative spirit in my girls comes from Grandma and it is fitting for these girls to use her creativity to foster their own.

A million thanks Grandma. You blessed my heart. The thank you notes are coming. Love you.

Mom and Grandma, 2007













In 2006, in Montana

Reading to Kassy, Montana, 2005

Kassy

Before any more time passes, Kassy deserves her post. It's been over a year. My youngest will be six next month. On her report card, Ms. Adair called Kassy, “Quiet, observant, and capable.” Kassy, you are slow to speak, slow to warm up, but loyal to the core. Once someone wins your trust and affection it would be difficult to lose. You are forgiving, tender, and sweet.

You are slow, leisurely. Even when a situation calls for hurrying, you dawdle. I am quite sure you use  your slowness to gain the upperhand.

You are observant and thoughtful. You ask deep questions about the spiritual world. Today you wanted to know if a demon possessed person was around, who would get the demon out since Jesus is no longer present. (Guess what story the Bible lesson was about this morning?)

Kass, you like to back peddle. You will execute a devious, almost naughty behavior and then when confronted, claim you changed your mind or didn't understand. You never, well almost never, claim to be at fault for anything. People think you are calm and sweet and innocent. They would be shocked to know that you are the loudest of my two children, frequently the one directing the games with Hadley, and generally looking for sneaky ways to get back at Hadley when you don't like how her older sister is acting. You are rarely sorry, just hopeful that you will get away with things. 

You are quiet at school and always do exactly what the teacher asks. Sometimes you take your obedience to ridiculousness. One day you came home and complained that during nap time  a little girl was biting your pants. You didn't raise your hand to tell the teacher because you aren't allowed to talk during rest time! At the beginning of the school year, you would sob if you had to be different (other than the food you eat) or to draw attention to yourself. You would sob if you forgot something like a library book that was due or your homework folder. Asking a question or getting clarification on directions is nearly impossible for you for you. If there are visitors to our house, you will only present your requests by whispering in my ear. You've worked hard to over come some of your shyness and now generally can return greetings and answer questions that unfamiliar adults ask. 

Kassy, you are still a whiner. Not everyday, the frequency has decreased and sometimes you make obvious efforts to squelch your complaints. You are a picky food eater. You worry about what you will eat and only like a few foods: fruits, spinach, grains ( a tough, expensive one since you don't eat gluten), cheese and yogurts (yes you are eating these again), highly processed meats (you hate most meat unless it is breaded, or a concoction meat like salami, sausage or hot dogs). You worry early in the day about what each meal will bring and rejoice if it is too your liking. I wish I knew if this was just your personality or if the food issues have made you this way.

You do worry and  worry and worry. You worry about new things, about not following procedures, about having to ask someone a question. At school, you wouldn't ask kids to play with you on the playground (and later, when you did, you claimed they didn't answer. I suspect you were so quiet and unassertive that they didn't hear you). It took you most the first semester to make friends at school. For a while, your favorite friend was a little girl named Areesha, she is a triplet. For much of Kindergarten you would fret and worry about not having friends and you would cry if you didn't see Hadley often enough or if you didn't pass her in the hallway at the usual time. Finally, you seem to be relaxing a bit. Now, since daddy introduced you to Star Wars, you've been playing all kinds of Star Wars games at school with many different kids(mostly boys). I think you finally feel comfortable at school, though Ms. Adair said you had many friends before but just didn't know it. She says the kids like you and pick you for partnering activities or games. 

 You love soft, comfy clothes like PJs with feet, fleece pants and tops,  fuzzy, soft sweaters. You also like skirts and dresses. You love to play on the computer, watch movies, and to listen to music with your daddy. You are still my little snuggler. You love soccer, gardening and cooking with mom. You take gymnastics, and don't mind it. You can ride a 2-wheeler around a parking lot, but are terrified to do it on the sidewalk. Bugs, especially bees, terrify you. You like sweets, but only in moderation (I think you would almost always prefer cheese). You are generous, always thinking of Hadley or other friends and sharing with them. You aren't particularly impressed by or attached to toys. You do still love your pillowcase. It is torn, down it last threads, but you love and take it anywhere I permit. You smell it. You want to learn to read and can now read simple books like One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish (85% on your own). 

Love you sweet cakes. 

Dr. Seuss, Rock band party, old friends, and wings

Last week I think every elementary school in the country celebrated Dr. Seuss. The more adventurous ones ate green eggs and ham and libraries were pillaged for these classics. Kassy surprised me by actually reading (not memorizing) about 75% of One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. Reading astounds me. One day it's just there. A mystery solved and all that remains is practice. Above she models her Cat in the Hat hat.

Those of you who are local probably received this promotional material for the girls' school in the mail. I've been impressed with how many people looked at it long enough to recognize my oldest. Hadley is embarrassed by the photo, saying things like, "I wish people would just stop talking about it."The little blond boy lives just down the street so our block was a bit over-represented. 

My best friend from high school, Prashant, had an interview in Ann Arbor for a medical fellowship in cardiac electrophysiology (whew what a mouthful) last week. Then he drove up here to pitch his tent for the night (just kidding). I hadn't seen him in over five years. And my first thought was, "Wow, he looks like his brother." We had a good evening catching up. Looking at this picture now, I can't help but thinking that both of us look old (er).

   This is a bug wing I found on a book shelf in the house. No idea where it came from, but isn't it beautiful? Plus, I was playing around with my new camera. 

Kassy went to a rocker girl birthday party this weekend. They did her hair, her nails, and her makeup. She loved it.