Popsicles on the playground

A cool thing about Edith

For the past few weeks, as day has dawned earlier, she has been waking around 6 am and reading for 90 minutes before the rest of us get up. It's the first time in her life that she has risen without calling for parents, and it's pretty fantastic, especially since it has allowed her to plow through all kinds of great books. We find her lying on her bunk dressed in her uniform, book propped open on the pillow in front of her.

This morning I found her with a stack of 5 new birthday books she had chosen for today. She had already completed Roald Dahl's The Twits by the time I entered and was well into Elizabeth Enright's The Saturdays. She got 3/4 of the way through that during church and would have completed it in the afternoon if she hadn't switched back to comfort food: her third pass through the Harry Potter series. She re-started those two weeks ago and is into Book 5 now.

She reads in all the interstitial moments, too. Between her class's regular Thursday visit to the school library and pick-up at the end of the day she polished off a new Magic Treehouse book, and between pick-up and going to collect Alice from her school, she completed a second.

No, we don't necessarily see a lot of her these days, and it can be awfully hard to get her attention. But on the whole, it's hard not to love it.

Gymnastics birthday party

Inflating the Air Track:

 

Knocking down the wedge mat:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So many presents!

Community

I often think and talk about the joys of creating community with others, and it has been on Tom's mind in professional capacities recently.

Meanwhile, we continue to be reminded of the incredible highs--and potential lows--that can stem from our current living situation in the Baldwin community.

1. Ring Day

There's a school tradition that the sophomores receive their class rings at a special dinner in the spring of the year. After the dinner, which is held on a night undisclosed to the rest of the school, the girls then change into work clothes and spend the night decorating the whole school according to a theme they have selected, one that ideally incorporates their class color. This year's sophomores are a Class of Green, and they chose Peter Pan as their theme. I am a 10th-grade advisor, meaning I was invited to dinner and then had to stay to chaperone the decorating.

But Tom had evening work responsibilities, so I needed to bring the girls. This was an exciting prospect for Edith, as Ring Day is supposed to be a surprise for the rest of the school. Here she was, a mere second grader, not only in on the secret but allowed to help decorate!

She and Alice came downstairs in the Tinkerbell outfits, and the big girls set them to work drawing, gluing, and stapling decorations. They had a blast, feeling very special in the Schoolhouse late at night, helping high school girls prepare a big secret. I'm only sorry we didn't get a good picture of Captain Hook's ship.

Smee, Peter Pan, and two Tinkerbells

 

Edith and the president of the sophomore class, a.k.a. her 2nd-grade teacher's daughter, a.k.a. my history student

Drawing decorations in the Lost Boys' Girls' hideout

2. 5k

It has been an absolutely beautiful spring in Philadelphia so (or Philaderphia, as the girls and I are calling it, since they prefer a City of Sisterly Love). Last Saturday was ideal for a 5k race. As it happened, the school was sponsoring one, a fundraiser for a scholarship fund in memory of a student who was killed 10 years ago in an act of domestic violence. I'm not much of a runner, but I love a race--the early morning, the energy, the people all together challenging themselves, the sense of healthy living, the crowd-watching. It's inspiring.

So today we tumbled out of bed and downstairs to find a race had come to us. With a starting line yards from our front door, we pinned on our numbers and joined in the walking portion of the crowd of maybe 500. Second graders (and their little sisters) were wearing butterfly wings for class spirit. At every turn on the course through woodsy, blooming Bryn Mawr, the marshal in the neon vest was someone we knew personally, who would cheer for us by name.

Tom was one of the marshals, having gotten up early to join the race crew for bagels and coffee before being driven out to his station. I love that he can be part of the school community around here, too. I dropped the girls with him--they had done nobly--and ran in the last mile or so on my own.

Back at the start we milled with friends and students and colleagues, and when they called the names of winners in different age brackets, they were all people we knew.


3. Major life events

Of course, there can be two sides to living, working, and socializing all in one community.

On the one hand, living on a hallway with people you know and work with every day reinforces friendships, as every random encounter becomes a chance for engagement. For example, it's possible to open one's door to go grab something from the office at midnight and encounter a neighbor as he's walking in from the hospital where his son was just born. Not only would this not happen if we all pulled our cars into separate driveways along a suburban street, but even if we lived in a regular apartment complex, we might pass the neighbor in the hall and not know what a big event had just occurred in his life. But here when we run into each other in the hall he announces it right away, and a celebration immediately ensues. He can invite us to sit with him while he enjoys the moment, and we can propose an impromptu midnight champagne celebration on the school's deep front porch, while the girls sleep soundly upstairs.

On the other hand...in a community as tight as this one it appears that "sibling" rivalry doesn't stop with blood relatives. For several days Alice pretended to be a newborn, refusing to do anything that newborns don't do (in her estimation). She lay on her back on the floor waving her arms and instructing us to cuddle her and feed her tiny sips from a bottle.

If having a baby next door prompts her to ask for mommy milk again, the spell may be broken: I'll be on the phone with a realtor, looking for a place of our own.

Until then, it's pretty fantastic.

And wait until you hear about Edith and Alice's summer library...

Under the wire...

Happy birthday, Edith May Eleanor! 

Thank you for a marvelous eight years so far as your parents.

Stay tuned for details.

All about Alice

Rebecca commented in the previous post on Alice's poses. Here are a few other pictures taken at odd moments in recent weeks. Essay question: What can one deduce about the child from the photographs?

No, we don't know where it comes from.

She has decided bangs are not her look, and she's eager to cut them off, not understanding the counterinutive idea that you have to let them grow out to get rid of them. I've managed to catch and stop her so far. So the other night she stood in front of the mirror after a bath, sleeking back her bangs with water for a full ten minutes, until she was sure she had just the right look.

She wants to comb my hair for me after my shower and can actually do it, working through the tangles successfully and without pulling.

She's also eager to be helpful in other ways, whether sweeping, or getting food out of the refrigerator, or generally trying chores around the house "by myself." She has a wicked memory for where people have placed random objects, so that I often find myself asking Alice where my keys are.

She loves learning foreign languages and math. She glanced at a check that Edith got for her birthday and told us that her sister had received a gift of $83.75. We thought she was just throwing out random numbers little-kid-style; it wasn't the amount of the check. Then Tom noticed the check number: 8375. She is getting eager to read and write and will ask us to spell sentences that she laboriously but diligently copies out on cards or slips of paper.

The line between reality and fantasy is paper thin these days, and for months she has been having us play adoption agency, a game that seems to fill a deep need she has to be chosen as our baby (or puppy), again and again and again.

She is an in-your-face extravert, full of words and likely to report on her day at school by recounting every squabble and spat between the girls with whom she's friends. Meanwhile, we have very little idea what the formal instruction may have included from one day to the next.

Whenever she hears music, she will spontaneously begin to dance, in time and in keeping with the mood of the piece.

She makes up songs all day. Our current favorite, "We're Flying to England with Sauce on the Side."