And just like that, it is August. I have never been the most enthusiastic fan of summer. My summer loving family and friends insist that the season passes in a flash. In DC, summer feels like a long, sweaty stretch of time—stealing from spring with high temperatures in May and maintaining its grip through at least September. But now that Ellie is in kindergarten, summer marks the passing of time in a different way. She will begin first grade in less than three weeks and the last week of kindergarten still feels so recent.
I had fretted about how Ellie would weather the many transitions of summer. When I was a kid, you went to one camp, and you also spent lazy summer days biking to the white hen for ice cream or just reading a magazine while your thighs stuck to a leather couch, trying to catch a breeze. But summer for short has been a series of shorter, mostly full day camps that are exorbitantly expensive compared to the camps of my youth. I organized these enrollments in concert with other moms, coordinating so that she would rarely attend a camp without at least a friend or two in the same group. A three week music camp, a half day art camp, astronomy camp, musical theater, gymnastics, violin.
She had gained a greater measure of social confidence by the end of kindergarten. She danced enthusiastically in her end of year cover to Shakira’s waka waka song. She is not the most physically affectionate of her peers, but she began returning hugs sometimes. We started therapy with Dr. Di—moments after the precipitating incident in extended day in January that had caused me to contacts six therapists. By then, E was in a smooth stretch, and when I completed the pediatric symptoms form, the Dr could not diagnose her with anything at all. So. No insurance coverage. And so far we have spent our sessions playing with miniature figurines (“minis”) and sand (!!! How I hate sand) and creating art. We recently started practicing breathing exercises that Ellie is always familiar with and we spent half of the most recent session pretending to be noodles, so that our bodies transformed from rigid, uncooked noodles, to languid, floppy cooked noodles. Ellie is unfazed but also seemingly unaffected by all of this. I wonder about the difficulty scheduling and the $200 session fees. But then she turns to me on an ordinary evening and says, what if we are all living in a nightmare, and none of this is real? And I think well perhaps, for this particular beautiful orchid, it is wise to be in the company of an experienced botanist sometimes.
When I visit the children just before I go to bed just to soak up a little more of them and check on them, I think I could not love anyone or anything more. And this is true. They are my favorite people.
Ellie is so observant. I was telling Yonit about her yesterday. And she said oh, what a sophisticated mind, and she is probably thinking deeper thoughts than she has the emotional capacity to take in, sometimes. I think she got that right.
E is also developing in all of the ordinary, observable ways. She is so tall and slim, among the tallest of her peers, mostly legs. Her face is so often caught in am expression of concentration. She takes on tween mannerisms, rolling her eyes expressively. One week she used the word “random,” dismissively, in every other sentence. I can see what lies ahead. And like all of the human inhabitants of our home, her emotions can be somewhat volatile. She and M are mostly quite close but they also argue, and when she is furious with him, she radiates anger as she points her finger at him. The pointing finger vibrates with expression and there is no shortage of shouting between the kids when tempers are elevated. But she also exercises admirable restraint. I know she may feel inclined to hit him but she rarely does. At six and a half, I credit her for that.
The way that her reading skills have taken off in the past year is so exciting for me. Less so for her. I feel like I am in the presence of magic when I listen to her read words, then sentences, then paragraphs that were so recently completely out of her reach. I think of the joy of her reading so many beautiful books for the first time. But my enthusiasm has not been contagious. She enjoys being read to. But we have had not a few kerfufles about her nightly 20 minutes of reading. I have had to remind myself repeatedly to practice patience. The end goal is not proficiency but a genuine love of language and story. And no one can be prodded into that territory. I know better. But to do better when tensions are elevated is the challenge.
I feel like I am capturing too much of how it feels to parent and too little of the spectacular, transient person she is in this moment. It is an in between age. She bops to Taylor Swift and One Direction—lyrics that engage her but are not yet completely understood. And she also delights in playing quietly with her collection of stuffies—dressing them in velvet hair scrunches, celebrating their birthdays, acting out scenes, putting them all too bed.
And there are threads that have been consistent all along. She loves art a she always has. She expresses herself beautifully. She is an older soul than many friends. She has a more nuanced understanding of the world that can startle parents of six year olds who have all the complexity of a golden retriever. One parent friend compared her to Wednesday Addams. Ellie will sometimes flippantly announce that she is dying.
But that view of her misses so much of her fundamental joy. She delights in animals. She loves silly games. She can be so gentle with her brother. There is also a zany, laughing girl who is playful, affectionate, and enthusiastic. All shades of Ellie are a great gift to us. Whatever I write here, there is so much more to say.
This brings us to Myles. He came second but should not always be second in these entries. It has been fascinating to watch our sweet little guy become more and more himself. His intellectual curiosity is such a delight to us. He can happily spend long stretches of time navigating in google maps. This was also apparently a favorite childhood pastime for Nitin.
He is also very interested in the world outside his immediate surroundings. A strong interest in volcanos and natural disasters has given way to a fascination with marine life, and different species of sharks in particular. I have learned about sharks I never knew existed from Myles, who can identify different types of sharks by their physical traits—porbeagle shark, great white, hammerhead, nurse shark, bull shark—and tell me what they eat and where they live. We checked a dozen shark books out from the library. He also loves to watch both children’s and adult documentaries about marine life.
Myles’s year as a puzzle kitty “middle” At CCCC is wrapping up. I can scarcely believe that my little guy is entering his last year of preschool. Thank goodness he still loves to snuggle. On the nights that I put him to bed, he prefers to lie in my lap until he falls asleep, and we listen to peaceful guitar or harp music after reading stories.
Myles is still an intriguingly social guy, happy to make new friends in any setting. At school, he enjoys his “mighty crew,” and especially his friend M. He wrapped up teeball in the spring—he seemed ambivalent about the teeeball but likes wearing his camp and enjoyed being part of a team. And not he and E are taking swimming lessons. I should think of a fall activity for him. Or maybe not. I am always torn between structured and unstructured time.
So. What is next for this little family? For starters, a new puppy, Ziggy, arriving in under three weeks. A trip to Montreal just before that. We went to Banff and Minnesota earlier this summer. And also an overnight in Shenandoah. First grade for Ellie. Last year of preschool for Myles. A marathon for Nitin and October Chicago visit for the rest of us. Christmas in San Diego. And whatever else happens in life that we were not expecting. Which is no small part of things.
Before summer ends, we will have Ellie’s Girl Scouts over for s’mores and a campfire. I will organize the ice cream Social for Myles’s school. There will be back to school playdates.
I am just coming back from a 24 hour jaunt to Philly. Kim, Elizabeth, and I took the train to see Yonit, who was there for a conference. We talked a lot about about work, balance, toiling. I did not expect that any conversation could help me to feel lighter. I feel as if work has been grinding me down. I had assumed the only way to feel lighter was to work until everything felt wrapped up neatly and within my control.
This is not the purpose of these posts, exactly. How I feel as I walk this tightrope carrying family and work responsibilities is not the picture of family life I am aiming to preserve. I want to know, in twenty years, how much Myles delighted in porbeagle sharks, and I want Ellie to remember how she used to give “birth” to stuffies who popped out from under her tshirt. But does anyone need to remember how I felt constantly torn between work and family responsibilities, and sometimes only remotely aware of who I am outside of either of those contexts?
Well, maybe. This is part of the movement of putting the moon in the picture. The year that a child lost her front teeth and quit ballet and went on her first fun run with her dad was the year I became a supervisor, and struggled with imposter syndrome, and stepped down from the preschool board, tired of being thoughtlessly tasked with hours of unpaid, thankless work. The month that Ellie went to astronomy camp I wanted to snuggle later at bedtime with both kids and I also wanted to walk the dog and listen to a podcast and chip away at work projects. There is never enough time and sometimes I forget to feel the joys of my very full life. I am instead consumed by the feeling that a ball is dropping somewhere, that no one else is quite taking seriously all the things that require serious consideration.
At Ellie’s therapy session, we chose miniature figurines that were supposed to represent ourselves and each other. Ellie chose a dragon and I chose a German shepherd for Nitin. Ellie chose a bird for me and a unicorn for herself. I chose a puppy for Myles and a butterfly and the joy character from Inside Out for Ellie. For myself, I chose a donkey that turned out to be a goat, because work is who I am right now. I carry deadlines, laundry, camp forms, email traffic, meetings, grocery lists. And Nitin carries mental load too. Hello, taxes, credit cards, flight bookings, landscaping, swimming lessons, trash and recycling, canine care, automotive maintenance! Who could even measure at this point? I spend all my damn time moving clean and dirty laundry, recycling art work, working, working, working.
So I weave fantasies. We will rescue goats and live on a remote farm near a small town with a library, bakery, and farmer’s market. I will quit and write essays or young adult novels. Did you know that starting your own goat rescue isn’t great for your 401k? And writing a YA novel is unlikely to generate 170k per year or access to health insurance? Anyways.
But I wonder if my ordinary life — and my perspective on it — just need tweaking. In the words of the great American poet Taylor Alison Swift, me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me. If you had told me at 17, you will be a civil rights lawyer at the department of education. You will be married to your partner of nearly 20 years. Two beautiful, healthy, brilliant children. Great friends. You own a lovely home in a wonderful neighborhood. You walk your kids to school. You have job security but your family also doesn’t even need your income. I would have thought, all that worrying, and what a blessed life. But I still worry.
I have to remind myself. This is the best part. Watching these children grow, being near them, pouring love into them. This is the ball that cannot drop. Slow down and drink it in. The rest of it cannot be taken so seriously. When the rest of it seems more too important, it is time to reset.
Quotes
Concerns about volcanoes...
M: "Daddy, are there volcanoes in Italy?"
N: "Yes, there are."
"Are they active volcanoes?"
"Yes."
"So that means we can't go to Italy."
"No, we can go to Italy. It's safe."
"Do they only erupt on certain days, like Mondays?"
"No, it's not like that."
"Then we can't go to Italy."
Additional travel safety questions...
M: "Daddy, did you visit a castle in Europe?"
N: "No, I haven't done that."
"Is that because the knights will put you in jail?"
"No, they don't put you in jail. You're allowed to visit the castles."
"So the knights are nice now?"
"Yes."
"Because they used to be bad."
"I know."
"Daddy, I would like to visit a castle in Europe with you sometime."
"Sounds great."
Hallmark channel...
E: Did you bring me a gift from Chicago?
N: I'm sorry, no, I didn't.
E: Oh. [pause] People usually bring gifts home when they go on a trip.
N: I know. I'm sorry. I mean to but....[dissembling]
E: Well, it's okay. The real gift is family.
Not sure how this happened...
M walks into a room: “Uh. One problem. The curtains fell down and it’s all because of me.”
Homophones...
M to Ni, three days before Father’s Day: I’m not your son, suns are burning hot!
Aquarium visit!
“Daddy I’m going to Baltimore Maryland on a bad weather day to visit the sea creatures.” —Myles, recalling that we're waiting for a crummy weather day to take a day trip to the Baltimore aquarium
Taylor Swift!
Ellie, anticipating ticket sale day for a Taylor Swift concert in the Netherlands: "Tomorrow we're going to find out if we're going to Hamsterdam or not!"
The Perfect Day
Ellie, describing her perfect day: "A claw machine and a new puppy." Well, one out of two ain't bad!
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