I have not posted much about Ava recently, and I was thinking about that last night. Not because I have not been devoting a tremendous amount of mental energy to her, that is for sure. But this year, first grade, has been so monumental in so many ways, I have probably been unconsciously overwhelmed by the idea of putting it all down. I will tell you, it is a LOT easier to chronicle the development of an infant than it is to chronicle that of a school-age child. The milestones are just as huge, but so much more abstract. Of course, reading is an easy one to take note of. And other academic skills. They are easily observed. And I have to say that the reading thing is terrific. The world is available to her now. Layers upon layers of new information is out there, and I am sure it makes her feel so much more in control of her life. But it is the other stuff that I am struggling to articulate--the growing up that she is doing emotionally. There is so much drama when you are a kid, and when it is your first child, you have no idea if this is normal or something to be concerned about or what. And the drama is very different as a child gets older and starts to adopt the mannerisms of a girl, vs a little girl. at 4 years, the posturing is exactly that. At almost 7, it is not posturing anymore. She is more worldly now, and it is reflected in her behavior. As a parent who strove to keep her protected from some not so nice truths about life and the world, this is very hard. I am no longer able to protect her from knowledge. Now my job is to guide her through that knowledge. This is a mental shift that I have found incredibly difficult. Notably because I have to constantly shift back and forth between my more mature daughter and my other 2 youngsters who are still blissfully unaware of so much. And of course, because it is Ava, her development is not following a normal trajectory. She is more mature and worldly, but she is also suddenly determined to be a kid. Or at least as much of a kid as she can allow--the other day we were at a garage sale, and there were Barbies for sale, and she said she wanted to get one, so we perused the selection. Everyone else has Barbies, you know. She was undecided, and struggling, and finally said "nah. i don't want one." -- then she went off to buy clothes and jewelry.

She is simultaneously strong and confident and fearful and subject to the opinions of others. She has her own opinions, style, and interests, and yet lets herself be guided by those she admires. She is an incredible girly girl, but prefers stories and displays of strength and power. She loves that skating sets her apart from her peers, and yet wants to be brought into the fold. She is a leader, but only in areas where she is certain that she knows exactly what to do. She is incredibly fragile, but no one would know it. And she hides it well, but she is very uncertain about how to navigate the social environment of her peers. I see her sizing it up, trying to figure it out, and struggling with the reality that it will take an effort that does not come naturally to her. However, when she does leap into the fray, she is successful.

I think she has spent so much of her 7 years being so serious and so intense and so easily sent to the stratosphere, that she is finally--finally! -- learning to let go and indulge herself in all sorts of dreams and imaginings. I let the kids watch The Chronicles of Narnia the other day (on a beautiful, sunny afternoon, no less) and I was so relieved that I did. I have suffered through a lot of angst over television and movies and so on, but this one (like Harry Potter) was different. True, it was somewhat violent and scary in places, but both kids can handle that now. But what the movie did was to completely transport her. Carter too, but that is nothing new. I was so excited to watch her become completely immersed in the story, with that visceral reaction that only some books and movies can generate. I could see how badly she wanted to be there, be one of those kids, have a bow and arrow and magical powers and adventure. I remember that feeling. I still get it when reading some books. It is a longing, a dream almost. It has sparked so much in her, a type of thinking and feeling that took a long time to emerge. It is a part of her mind and soul that she can retreat to, and draw strength from, and will only become more powerful and vast with the more reading and stories and wonder that she experiences.

Happy Spring!

Anna says bye bye and hello now, with a wave. Finally. It is the one thing that all strangers do when interacting with a baby, and most babies happily oblige with an adorable wave. Not Anna. Nope. Not doing it. Instead, she stared at people with a disconcerting intensity that would finally make them mumble "oh, ok, that's ok, you don't have to wave...not today..."

But now, she has decided that she will finally do it, and of course it is The Most Fun Ever!

She is also walking about 6 feet at a time. Despite earlier predictions, she is taking her sweet ol' time ambulating.

Signs that perhaps your son's Star Wars preoccupation might be too much:

Mom, looking at a photo of koala bears: "Hey, Carter...Do you remember what these are? We saw them in San Diego..."

Carter, looking closely: "Ewoks?"

smartphone

what did i do before my new phone???

anna is on an ambulatory strike. not interested in walking, very much interested in climbing. not good. so not good.

one night a few weeks ago, ava was settling down and after a few minutes of silence, she sat up, looked at me and said "so. mom. what do you think i should do with my skating?"

i said "what do you think you should do with your skating?"

she said "well, i think i would really like to be famous, you know, go to nationals and be a champion and everything..."

i told her that there were a lot of people who were ready to help her give it a shot and work toward that goal and that i thought it was an admirable goal and we could talk later about how she was going to do that. to which she said "well, i think i need to skate at least 3 hours a day and i have to land my axel so i can start on my doubles..."

carter has been preoccupied with star wars and now harry potter. we watched harry potter yesterday (he was agog), and last night he started processing darth vader's and voldemort's fall from grace and what it meant to be on the dark side. he said, "well, first he was here" and he held out his left hand, and then said "and then he went over here" and he pointed with his right hand. "he went all the way over to the other side of the earth. "

the other day he asked me if i knew who/what god was. i deflected and said "who do you think god is?" and he said "that's easy! god is the messenger for the great spirit!" and he scoffed and said "that's easy. i am the great spirit."

ooooeeeeeeooooooo....



whoa. ok. so, i asked what the message was.

when ava was born, i noticed a common theme in the parenting magazines and websites and books: how to not become overwhelmed by volunteer requests. or more bluntly, how to say "no."

i thought, well, of course -- that does not seem so hard.

ha.

the other day, at 9 pm, as i collapsed in a chair having finally secured sleep states in all 3 kids, i looked at my clothes and realized that i had been wearing them for 36 hours straight. (living in the north country, you can get away with this by throwing snowpants and a fleece over whatever you have on. you need the outerwear, and no one can see what is your base layer, and hopefully, the water resistant material contains any unsavory aroma). this was due to a volunteer marathon at the 2010 empire state winter games. now, it certainly was hard work, and i would have preferred a chance at a shower, but saying "no" to volunteering really was not an option. this is our skating club's responsibility, and since our family has a vested interest in the club's success, i can't see how insisting on "me" time would benefit anyone. same goes for volunteering at the school. it is exhausting, but they simply don't have the human resources to make it all happen at a level of excellence. and basically, i would like my kid's experience to be the best it can be--if i can help make that happen, i will. i think most parents (or those parents for whom those articles are written) feel the same way. in other words, if you are a parent, and if you have a moment to spare, you generally are going to maximize your kid's life at your own personal expense. not always, but the effort is there. the articles explaining how to say no tend to gloss over that fact or blame some sort of external guilt factor. but (i think) the guilt comes from inside--not because some external parenting standard is forcing parents to slog through work they don't want to do, but because as a parent, you can never really stop trying to improve your kid's life--there is no limit on that, and so one exhausts themselves going for broke--whether that is improving it financially, emotionally, physically, or mentally.

now, of course, even my choice to volunteer all weekend came at an expense for the kids, particularly nutritionally -- it left no time to cook, so we ate a LOT of chicken tenders from price chopper. so, it is a personal choice too--i weighed the options and decided that a successful skating club and tight community were far more important than organic meals for a few days.

and also, i know the argument that a happy mom makes for a better mom, and so one has to take care of one's self. however, what is not addressed is that sometimes self sacrifice can make a person very happy. i was exhausted, filthy, emotionally spent (parents and coaches of competitive skaters can be very high strung), and waaaay behind in the housework, but we all had a great time. the point is, i was happy, and thus we were better off. it all lies in the definition of what brings happiness or contentment or satisfaction.

which segues into another parenting realization i had the other day. when i became a parent i had a vision of how i wanted our family life to be. and it was a lot more crunchy and artsy than our current life. i spent a long time (years) agonizing over the fact that our life did not match the one i envisioned and witnessed in blogs and books and magazines (those darn media sources!). it seemed that everyone was knitting and sewing and crafting up a storm of clothes and toys and books and projects and cooking amazing meals that somehow their little kids actually ate and their houses were not only clean but practically works of art, and they all hung out and learned together and no one ever complained...

when ava was little, i had it sort of under control--we did a lot more of the sort of artsy creative outdoorsy all natural tactile hands on learning that i loved, but then school and skating and everything else began.

and then our life seemed to have no time for those things--we have a grueling schedule of athletic activities, and very little time to set up projects or go hiking or learn how to knit--and i started to feel like i was losing control of my vision. and i started to feel like i was somehow failing to parent in the way that i wanted to parent. but then i watched ava with her skating peers and realized something. the parenting that i wanted to do was an effort to create the sort of environment that I like. but blindly creating the sort of environment that i prefer, and judging all other environments as somehow not being good enough is just as much a failure, if not more of one. ava and carter (and eventually anna) have their own preferences. if that means we spend hours at the rink and oval (speed skating) and mountain, with bags and bags of gear, eating on the fly, and very little time for anything else, well, that is the life we have. this is what the kids like to do, this is what they respond to. i finally recognized that i had to suspend my judgements and opinions that were creating major anxiety in me and let the individualism of the kids guide me instead of trying to stuff them into some preconceived mold of the perfect childhood.

this is not easy. but it is ultimately a lot easier than spending hours anxiety-ridden over perceived failure. what we have is good. it is not how i would live, if i were on my own, and thus a bit more of a challenge to rise to, but it is still working. and that is what i finally was able to see. it doesn't mean that i have to relinquish all control, but it means that i can let go of the angst over not going apple-picking this fall. no, we missed that nod to the season and that wonderful opportunity to get outside, but we did a lot of other things that moved us forward in life. perhaps that is what the parenting magazines and books should focus upon--instead of constantly exhorting parents to "take time for themselves," which can end up being just as stressful as any other aspect of parenting (how? what should i do for myself? when? what do i sacrifice so i have this 'time'?), they should acknowledge first that parents might actually want to put their energy into parenting and that it is not incompatible with doing something for themselves -- that for some, parenting IS taking time for themselves. and second, that one can amend notions of good parenting. letting the kid's lives guide (not dictate) parents might result in the adults learning a lot more about life than what might have occurred if the adults insist upon doing it their way.