Ten

Dear Thelonious,

Today is your tenth birthday. You are officially in the double digits. Half way to twenty. Three years until you are a teenager. Six years until you drive. Twenty years until you get married. And as you so calmly informed me a couple nights ago, only 8 years until you graduate high school with the class of 2019. I almost fell out of my chair when I heard that. I think that you actually like getting older. It seems to bring you some pleasure knowing that it freaks me and your dad out.

The festivities this year will be many. Not only are you turning ten, but your dad is graduating from Seattle Pacific University with a Master of Arts in Theology. Did you hear that? I said YOUR DAD IS GRADUATING!!!! You may not realize what a big deal this is because he has been in grad school since you were three so I guess it must seem completely normal. But I assure you, it is not. This weekend will be my favorite of the year celebrating both you and your dad. Your grandparents and cousin Katie are in town for both celebrations. Next week, you and your sister travel with them to California to see family and go to Disneyland. When you are done there you will fly back, by yourselves (sans adults), and head right into summer. I know you are super excited about the trip and Disneyland but I think the icing on the cake will be the flight. You have been asking me if you could fly by yourself since you were four. For a few years I had airline regulations on my side, but now that you are technically old enough it was only a matter of time.

When I think back over this last year there are a few things that stand out to me as markers in your journey. Top of the list is Hero clix. This is a game. A complicated game. A long game. A hard game. It’s played with little plastic super hero figures that have points and damage and powers and all kinds of other attributes that I cannot begin to recount. You play on some kind of grid-lined board. It takes hours to play and months to really learn and longer even to excel. You spend nearly every Sunday afternoon at the comic book store playing in tournaments against grown men named Panda and Goblin. There are sometimes other kids but you are always the youngest. We went with you to the first couple tournaments and hung out or waited in the car. Boring! Your dad has even played in a couple. But now we take you and drop you off and pick you up three hours later. Luckily, your dad is such a regular at this comic book shop that the owner and staff know our whole family. They are good people and we know you are safe there. The fact is, you love this crazy game. You spend so much of your time planning, strategizing, and selecting your teams for the tournaments. You have started to try to get some of your friends to play and are starting to have some success winning one or two of them over to the game.  Your dad is almost as obsessed. He built you both an elaborate 3-D board with buildings and little trees. I think the crew at Dreamstrands is pretty envious of that. You also have a whole display area in the office dedicated to your ever-growing Hero clix collection.  It really is more than a game to you, which doesn’t surprise me. It is in your very nature to approach your interests with such passion and focus and pleasure.

Another feature of this last year has been your comedic uprising. You love gag gifts (extendable fork, pack of gum that gives an electric shock, etc), the Simpsons, The Encyclopedia of Immaturity and all things slapstick. You are constantly telling jokes. I think all of this is a prerequisite to being a 10-year old boy. Your favorite are Chuck Norris jokes. As in…

• Chuck Norris counted to infinity. Twice.
• Chuck Norris’ tears cure cancer. Too bad he’s never cried.

The best part is that when you first started telling these jokes, you didn’t know who Chuck Norris is. This makes me laugh every time I think of it. One of these days maybe I’ll let you actually watch an old Chuck Norris movie. Or if you’re lucky, and episode or two of “Walker: Texas Ranger”.

On a couple of occasions you have come home from school with a new joke that gets this reaction.

Me: Who told you that joke?

You: um, a kid at school..

Me: Do you know what that joke means?

You: um, I guess not?

Me: I’ll explain that to you when you’re in high school…and don’t repeat that one anywhere!

Which brings me to the topic of…you guessed it…sex! It became apparent this year that it was time to start educating you a little more intentionally about this topic.  I suppose you will die of embarrassment that I would even dare say such a thing publicly. But that is just the beginning of how much your dad and I will embarrass you over the next ten years so you might as well get used to it now. I won’t go into gory details except to say that you now know what sex is, where babies come from, how it all works. And this is just the beginning. Knowing the mechanics doesn’t mean you really understand or are prepared to deal with everything that this world will throw at you. And that time and those conversations will come. But for now at least I can rest a little easier knowing that you don’t think babies come out of a woman’s belly button.

When I was your age I was at a friends’ house watching an episode of “Eight is Enough” (you can ask me about that one later) where one of the teenagers was deciding whether or not to go on the pill*. I remember innocently asking my friend’s mom “What is the pill?”. She was Catholic and told me to go home and ask my mother. I knew then that whatever this “pill” was it must be bad, so of course, I never asked my mom and remained ignorant for a number of years. All this to say I hope your dad and I can create an open and supportive environment for you to be able to talk to us about anything and everything–sex, love, your body, relationships– whatever. We love you and never want you to feel afraid or ashamed to talk to us. Ok, enough of the embarrassing. At least for now.

You have continued with Tae Kwon Do and are now a brown belt. Next is red belt, then junior black belt. This is an incredible accomplishment. You have gone week after week, month after month for over two years and worked really hard toward your goal of becoming a black belt. And now that you are in reaching distance of your goal you are starting to feel the pain. The belts take longer to earn now. They are harder and a lot more work. You have talked about wanting to quit. It’s interesting what conversations this has sparked between your dad and I. We have had to work through our own issues to come to a place where we can parent you through this difficult time. It’s our job to take the long view because we know that you cannot possibly know or understand what impact giving up now would have on you. We also know it’s our job to love and support you no matter what you do or don’t do. And we want you to know that whether you are a black belt or brown belt or no belt at all does not make us love you any more or any less. We could not be more proud of you. We could not like or enjoy you more than we do now.

There are a few other things of note. This year you got braces (yuck!). You started out with one of those expanders which looks like some kind of medieval torture device and now have four braces on your top front teeth. You have been a champ about it, which is good because it’s looking like another couple years and another couple million dollars of hardware for you. So much for a family trip to Hawaii or a college education or new shoes. Oh well, at least you’ll have enough room in your mouth for all of your teeth.

We didn’t travel much this year. We took a family trip to Lake Chelan at the end of last summer. For Thanksgiving, Aunt Bobee, Uncle Eric and Calvin came to visit. We got some crazy snow that week so it threw all of our plans into chaos but it was still a good time. At Christmas we stayed in Seattle and spent the morning with Myra, Josh and Max who had just moved in with us a few weeks earlier. It was a lovely time.

All in all, it’s been a good year. I feel that you are just on the verge of moving into a new phase of life. Right now you are so independent and cool but also so affectionate and sweet. You still like hanging out with your dad and I and don’t mind being seen with us in public. I know it won’t be this way for too much longer. So I want to stay in these moments with you and enjoy every second possible. Just the other day I used the word “yo!” and you just looked at me and rolled your eyes and said, “Mom, you really should never, ever say that again. You are embarrassing yourself.” And so, I know it’s coming. No matter how cool I think I am, someday you will think I’m just a hopeless geek whose life mission it is to humiliate you. But we’re not quite there yet…

So let me end by wishing you the best birthday ever. Enjoy your day, your triple-chocolate birthday cake baked from scratch by your Grandma, your new Green Lantern Hero Clix, your pocket knife, and your family, who love you and support you and although they may embarrass you at times, will never, ever stop loving and adoring you.

All my love,

Mom

*So for the record, the pill is an oral contraceptive that suprresses ovulation and helps prevent pregnancy. Although it can be highly effective if taken properly, it does not prevent the spread of sexually transmitted diseases. Translation: Always wear a condom.

Community Gardens Day 1

Today we spent the day working in the community gardens at our church. Our family is sponsoring a double plot where we will plant vegetables that will be donated to the local food pantry which goes to feed low income families in our community. Today the entire church (Vineyard Community Church) worked together in the garden, weeding, mulching, and planting. Most of the plots will be sponsored by families in the church or neighborhood who are willing to plant and harvest food to share with the food pantry. There are also plots that families in the neighborhood can rent (only $35 for the season) to plant and grow food for their own use. It is a brilliant idea (thank you, Nancy Short) and an amazing way to come together to serve our community.

Ione and I are the bosses of our plot. Jim and Thelonious are in charge of the “inside” work i.e. running the food pantry.  She was a champ today. She weeded and dumped buckets into the compost heap. We planted a few rows of strawberries that someone had donated. Then after hours of work we came home and planted a bunch of starters that we will eventually take and plant in our plot.

This year we are growing squash, baby carrots. radishes and sugar peas. We plan to update the blog on the progress of our little plot, and the bigger progress of the community garden.

Spring Break

I took this week off to spend time with the kids and get stuff done. And by stuff I mean get the car serviced, get my hair cut, go to the eye doctor, purge the junk from my kids’ rooms, scoop the poop in the backyard, and take the dogs to the vet for their shots. And it’s only Wednesday. Amidst all this and we have still managed to have a bunch of fun. We spent Monday outside because we had some sun. Yes, actual sun. Here are some pics of our day (Golden Gardens, the Locks, downtown Ballard, Bitter Lake park). It was all going swimmingly until a belligerent drunk yelled at Ione while we were waiting for the gelato store to open. We left Ballard shortly after, Ione crying all the way to the other ice cream shop far, far away from the mean drunk. She has decided that she is never going to Ballard again because the people there are SCARY. Her only exception will be to visit Rachel’s Tea Shop (aka Miro Tea).

In other news I started a new blog. I’m so bad about keeping up this one. For whatever reason writing takes me forever, so now I have this little creative outlet that requires almost no writing at all!  Plus I think in lists and feel five is simply a perfect number.

Eight

Dear Ione,

Happy birthday! Today is your special day. I write this particular letter with one goal in mind.  I want to keep it short. Or at least shorter than last year’s letter. Have you read that thing lately? Well, I have and it’s really long.

So in the spirit of brevity I will not spend too many words telling you about the violent, vomit-spewing and obscenity-screaming experience that was your birth. Your dad has a hard time controlling himself but he’s working on it.

Brand New

Now he's a brother

It does not feel like a full 365 days since your last birthday. It feels more like 273. I did not take as many photos this year so it may be that I’m just missing 92 days worth of pictures which also probably means those days never happened and Einstein was right about special relativity and I’m not at all crazy. Not a bit.

Instead of going chronologically through your year trying to find those lost days I think I will just hit on some highlights in the order they come to me, very stream-of-consciousness like.

S-p-e-l-l-i-n-g

You are kind of God’s gift to spelling. Ms. Kammerman, your second grade teacher, has been giving your personalized spelling tests all year because you are just that good. Her biggest challenge? Finding words you can’t spell. I have stopped asking you how you did on your spelling tests because a long time ago you stopped answering the question, “100%!” and now you just give me this look that says something like, “I presume that by being asked this question you entertain the possibility that I actually might have not spelled a word correctly and since we both know this is not possible, I’m just going to ignore  you and go read the dictionary.”

I randomly kept one of your tests from the beginning of the year. The words were as follows; styrofoam, construction, illustrate, orchestra, throughout, Connecticut, Indonesia, ravioli.

Thank goodness for spellcheck or I might have embarrassed myself on that part of the post. The only bummer is that your school does not participate in spelling bees. They say the competition is too stressful. However, they do run a Geography Bee and a Math Olympiad.  I understand. Spelling is way more stressful than math and far more glamorous. Have you seen the outfits those kids get to wear at the Scripps National Bee? Very Hollywood!

Agents

I have been reluctant to write about Agents for fear that I might somehow jinx it. Agents is a pretend world that you made up and have been playing for years now–since Kindergarten, I think. The crazy thing is how elaborate it is and how you have managed to bring almost all your friends into this world with you and how seamlessly you move from Agents to real life and back again. You have such an elaborate back story in agents; age, family history, job, etc that I can’t begin to keep up. I think that in Agents you are actually a 23-year-old orphan and Noelle is your 19-year-old sister and you run an animal shelter and are also spys and there are some bad aliens to boot. One day a few months ago I came in from work and you were in tears. Dustin (a boy in your class) HAD STOLEN THE SPECIAL CODE THAT CAN ERASE THE COMPUTER SYSTEM IN AGENTS AND HE WAS THREATENING TO DESTROY AGENTS FOREVER!!! You were, to put it mildly, freaking out.Now that I look back this was one of my better parenting moments. On the spot I decided to play along. I told you that I was also an Agent who happened to be deep undercover and I possessed the override code to the computer system–the only code that could foil Dustin’s evil plot. I said If you were willing to maintain my secret identity then I could share the code with you. But only if you could keep it a secret. This stopped the tears immediately. For the next while you and I went back and forth about what we could do to prevent the evil Dustin from destroying Agents forever. In the end, you and your friends (Kate and Noelle) came up with your own solution. And you kept my identify a secret. Nice work, agent.

One other thing to note: in Agents, Momo is still alive. Yesterday you informed me that you were going to get Momo a birthday present this year. I asked you what you were giving him and  you told me that you couldn’t tell me because Momo might hear because (your exact words), “Momo is everywhere.”

BFF

You have always been a girl who has strong emotional attachment to family, friends and animals. This year you stepped it up a notch with you best buddy, Noelle. I don’t know what the secret is between you two. Maybe it’s commonality; you both are youngest kids in your families, love horses and American Girl dolls, play Agents, have blond hair and blue eyes, are goofy as all get-out. Maybe it’s chemistry. Maybe it’s right place, right time. Maybe it’s all those. I don’t know but you two are joined at the hip. You have already informed me that you will always be friends with Noelle, and when you grow up you will go to college together and be roommates and that you fully believe that someday you will be sisters (you actually are sisters in Agents). I guess you must be scheming some way to get your brother to marry Noelle. Just don’t mention that to him. He’s far too  young to understand the benefit of having a sister with cute friends. Just give it a few ten years.

BFF

I would be remiss in writing about your capacity for friendships if I didn’t also write about Kate. She’s your other best friend, and the girl who turns the two of you into a lovely and ultra-giggly threesome. I have never seen three little girls get along so well together. Usually three kids playing ends in one kid getting left out. But not with you, Kate and Noelle. For birthdays you each pick the other two for whatever you want to do–typically a sleepover. You never seem to tire of each other, or fight, or get bored. It’s kinda of amazing. It’s a testament to you, my dear, that you would choose such wonderful girls to be your best friends.

Three Amigos

Gizmo

After Momo died we all had a hard time. But it wasn’t long before we welcomed a new dog into our family, Gizmo. You, of course, still love Momo. He will probably be your most special pet. But you love Giz too. He is so sweet and cuddly and will comply with almost anything if he gets to be with you. He’s so easy-going you can walk him yourself with no trouble. He’s pretty much the perfect dog for you.

Love at First Sight

Craft-tastic

Before having children I was only worried about two things; having a picky eater and having a kid that loved crafts. I got one of each. You know which one you are. The Creation Station (the nook we use for art stuff) has become your domain. It contains every kind of supply imaginable; from pipe cleaners to rubber stamps and everything in between. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t come home to some new creation of  yours. Recently, you sculpted woodland animal scenes out of clay and displayed them artfully all over the furniture in my bedroom. At Christmas, you made felt-covered trees and houses for a winter scene. A week ago you made your own giant water-color fruit puppets (don’t ask me to explain that one). You have made jewelry and paper sculpture. For Christmas you made me a paper 3-d replica of an old-school boom box, complete with a lid that opens to reveal the CD inside (which  you thoughtfully labelled “The Smiths”). Genius, really. You are always working on something. Hence, the creation station has turned into a bit of a disaster. I can’t keep track of which piles are works-in-progress and which are trash or for that matter which “trash” piles are really valuable supplies that you plan to turn into something wonderful. So I tend to avoid that part of the house. I don’t want my organizational compulsions to stifle you. Sigh. They say chaos breeds creativity and in your case that seems to be true.

Wrap Up

Writing these letters is always an interesting process. I never know where I’m going with them until I get there. This year the thing that jumps out to me more than anything is how many qualities you have in common with your Aunt Bobee (my sister, Genesis). Your Aunt can spell like a computer, loves to read, has always had a small, tight-knit group of dear friends, and inherited all of our mom’s crafting skills and them some (fyi–I got none). Of course, when I watch you I really see a kaleidoscope of qualities; gifting, skills, preferences, personality, dna, interests, fears and loves. They all turn together to reflect something so amazing and beautiful and complex and interesting. And that something is you.

All my love and admiration,

Mommy

*we did watch the finals together this year which was pretty cool.

2010 Round Up

I am sitting at my our desk in the newly reorganized office that my husband and I, and now the “HeroClix Gaming Center” share. If you view the overall square footage that is actually used for office space it is shockingly small. You must account for the real estate taken up by comic book storage,various collections of super hero collectibles* and the new gaming table. A week ago at least I had my own desk. But now that’s a thing of the past. I am inclined to hang a sign over the door of the “office” that says, Jim’s Comics & Collectibles or something like that. It would be more honest.

At this moment Jim is reading comic books (you could probably see that one coming). Ione is at a friend’s house. Thelonious is skulking** about complaining of boredom but avoiding any of my suggestions to alleviate it. The Wadells have gone to Longview for the night to be with family. We can’t seem to find a babysitter to watch our kids or friends to hang out with for the evening. So I have decided to write. In the tiny corner of the comic book shop. Where I expect one day soon to find that my computer has been replaced by a cash register.

If I can stop talking about my ever-shrinking office I intend to write about the highlights (and maybe a few lowlights) of our year. We did not send a Christmas card or letter out this year (or last year for that matter) so this will have to suffice.

My personal highlight  was running a half-marathon in September. I ran it to support family friends that lost their 18-year-old son to murder in January. I was one of many who ran with them and it almost didn’t happen because of a hip injury. But in the end I ran it and I’ll forever be glad I did. We are thinking of the Wood family and wishing them God’s grace as they approach the one-year anniversary of Franklin’s death.

Another highlight is that Jim is in his last year of grad school and is on schedule to graduate in June. I guess that will technically be a highlight of 2011 but I thought I should start sharing my enthusiasm now. So that it can build. So that when June comes and he puts on those funny robes and walks up to receive his diploma for his Masters of Theology no one will be surprised when I fall on the floor and weep like a baby. For joy, of course.

In May we went so San Clemente to celebrate my maternal grandfather’s 90th birthday. The whole family came from various parts of the country and Pap was totally surprised that we were all there for him. It was a celebration of an amazing person who has lived an incredible life. We love  you, Pap!

There were, unfortunately, some very hard things this year. Franklin’s death. The Haiti earthquake. The Gulf oil spill. On a more personal level, our house flooded in January. It was a horrendous experience and I would not wish it on my worst enemy. Not even Sarah Palin. After much time and effort and money the house got put back together, new carpet and sump pump included!

In a totally unrelated event we now we have friends living with us (the Wadells) who are really getting to enjoy our luxurious new carpet. So, I guess it all worked out for the best.

Another awful thing that led to a blessing was that our beloved dog, Momo, died in March. I can’t really write about it much or I’ll start to cry. And crying in front of a bunch of super heroes is just weird. I mean, they always look so badass just staring you in the face daring you to show weakness. Anyway… we really loved that dog. BUT, in happy news, our friend and dog breeder Terre gave us a new dog, Gizmo. Gizmo has been a wonderful addition to our family and has helped heal our broken hearts. And I’m happy to report that we have finally gotten his farts under control.

We had a lovely Christmas. It was only the second time in our 15 Christmases as a married couple that we did not spend the holiday traveling or hosting out-of-town company. It is the second time we’ve shared it with roommates. At this time of year people tend to ask about traditions. This always makes me a little nostalgic because growing up my family did basically the exact same thing every year. We lived in the same house, surrounded by the same extended family. We had our Christmas routine down. I loved that. But here in Seattle we have to improvise every year depending on where we are going or who is coming to town. But we have still managed to develop a few traditions that are less tied to the circumstances. So, I’ll end with a list of our favorites and hope that this post finds you and yours happy, healthy and ready for 2011.

• Jim wakes up the day after Thanksgiving and plays Band Aid “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” loudly over and over again. This is our official start to the Christmas season
• I read David Sedaris’ “Holidays on Ice”. I don’t always make it through the entire collection but I always read ‘Santa Land Diaries’
• We watch “Elf” at least 3 or 4 times
• The kids open only one present on Christmas eve and it is always new pajamas
• The kids fight over opening the Advent calender because they claim they can’t remember whose turn it is
• We build a gingerbread house and Jim buys about five extra pounds of candy for eating decorating
• I sit at my computer and pour over the photos I’ve taken over the last year so that I can remember

*what is the collective noun for a group of super heroes? A League?

**did you know that the collective noun for a group of foxes is called a skulk?

Nine

Happy Birthday, Thelonious. Today you turn nine years old. And no, you cannot have a cell phone. Or a facebook account. Or an iPad. But you already knew that, right?

It was a good year for you, I think. You must have grown about six inches since last summer. We’ll see when we measure you later today and put that mark on the kitchen wall, where we have been marking your height every birthday since the first one. My money is on 6″.

I suppose if I were to try to give this year a theme it might be ‘Hair’. Between your refusal to give up viewing the world through too-long bangs and your father’s Russian Marxist beard, we had a LOT of hair in this house. I don’t know if you’ll remember this when you grow older but your long hair drives your dad crazy and he’s constantly trying to get you to cut it short. This is an example of irony hypocrisy contradiction ‘the pot calling the kettle black’.

This year you lost two pets, Mr. Birdie in the fall and later, Momo. This was your first experience with death and it was heavy. You grieved so intensely and so honestly. It wrecked me watching  you suffer like that, feel pain that deeply, knowing that I couldn’t make it any better for you, that you just had to feel it in order to move on. Of course, your father tried his best to ease the pain by replacing Mr. Birdie with not one more parakeet, but two! I don’t know if that made you feel better or worse, but it sure pissed me off!

When Momo died in March we were all heartbroken. But Gizmo (a gift from Terri & Robert) helped us heal. I know you will never forget Momo. You loved him so much. But you love Gizmo and Ploo, too. Each animal is special to you and you are a good pet owner.

Reading this year was awesome. You started right after your 8th birthday with the Percy Jackson & The Olympians series and after that we finally got to read the Harry Potter books. How fun that was! You had two copies of the books going at a time. You would check one copy out of the school library and read it during the day, then we had another copy we would read to you at night, picking up where you had left off at school that day. And of course there are the comic books and graphic novels. But that’s not just about reading. It’s about collecting. I blame  your dad mostly, but I think I can throw a little credit on your Aunt Bobee, too. She has contributed to your habit and has a weak spot for the graphic novel herself. The woman is in a graphic novel book club, for goodness sakes. Between that and your dad’s comic book collection (neatly catalogued and stored, of course)  I suppose it was only a matter of time before you went to the dark side. I am not sure which series you are reading/collecting now. Darkest Night, maybe? I plan to stay out of it and let you and your dad sort it out. He is the one who takes you on the weekly trip to the comic book store and makes sure you have every color of green lantern ring (who knew that green lantern rings came in orange and purple and white, etc?). The only thing working in my favor is that you still spend most of  your allowance on Nerf guns. So as long as your weapon obsession holds I think you will only be able to moderately indulge your comic collecting habit. allowance only goes so far, after all.

This year you went to California a couple of times, most recently attending your Great-grandfather’s 90th birthday. You and Ione are both convinced that Pap will live to be 100. I think you might be right about that. Your dad’s family all came to Seattle for Christmas and it was fun to have Uncle Johnny, Aunt Kim, Katie and Grant in Seattle. Next week Grandma and Grandad get her for a two-week stay. I’m sure if it’s up to Grandma you will get pancakes and bacon for breakfast every day.

A lot of crazy stuff went on here and in the world. January was an awful month. Our house flooded the same day as the devastating Haiti earthquake. This was also the day we found out friends at church had lost their teenage son in a tragic shooting. It was a day I will never forget. The trauma of one of those things is too much, but three stacked on top of each other like that was almost more than I could bear. It reminded me of 9/11. You were exactly three months old then and I remember holding you and staring at the television in shock and disbelief feeling horror and fear and confusion all at once.  But I held on to you and your simple existence comforted me. Your life gave me hope. And years later on 1/12/10 I felt many of the same emotions I had so many years before. I could have easily been overcome by the tragedy and chaos and powerlessness I felt but then I would look at you or your sister and I would calm down. I thought so many times during those early weeks, “My children are alive. My children are safe. My children have food and clean water and a roof over their heads. Only half our house is flooded, not the whole thing.” I spent days, weeks, even months living like this. Torn between grief and joy. Despair and hope. And now as I write this letter thousands of gallons of oil are spilling into the Gulf of Mexico every day. Another devastating tragedy. Like 9/11. Like Haiti. Like Franklin. I do not know what will happen as a result of the spill. I cannot make promises that it will all be ok. I don’t know what the effects will be or how we will possibly recover from them. I only know that I am so, so sorry.

What is my desire for you, in all this–this crazy world with all it’s tragedy and chaos and disaster and violence? Well, I would like for you to keep going to Tae Kwon Do, because you are really good at it and you love it. And keep playing guitar even though you hate to practice. Because it suits you and you like being able to play. Keep exploring your love of music for there will never be an end to what new things you will discover if you are open. And keep reading. NEVER stop reading. Read everything that suits your fancy (even comic books). And practice kindness with everyone, but especially with your sister. And never hide your sense of humor. You have a fantastic and intelligent wit and make us laugh all the time. And keep letting yourself feel–whatever emotions might come your way are ok. Enjoy school as much as you can. I know you work hard, but I hope that you also keep your love of learning. Finally, it might be nice if you could play fewer video games, eat a few more vegetables and try not to say ‘crap’ so much. But I’ll take what I can get.

So go out there and enjoy your day and have the kind of fun that only a nine-year old boy can have.

All my love,

Mom

Seven

Dear Ione,

Today you turn seven. Did you hear me? S–E–V–E–N!  I suspect there are more creative ways to show maternal shock but since I’m not a writer I wouldn’t know those literary tricks. So I resort to the blogger technique of ALL CAPITAL LETTERS and superfluous punctuation. In good news, private school seems to be paying off. Your writing, spelling and grammar are already better than mine. As long as you stay away from the blogs you should be ok.

This year, like most, has been a busy one at Fox headquarters. There is the usual–Mommy working like crazy, and Daddy doing eight different things at once all in the name of being a ‘stay-at-home-dad’. This is a bit of a joke because working and going to grad school doesn’t really qualify as ‘stay-at-home’ does it? I guess because he takes you to school and picks you up every day and makes your lunches and arranges your playdates, he is slapped with this title. And he bears it proudly. I love that you are being raised in a family and in a neighborhood and church community that will not try to restrain you or force you into some pre-defined notion of who you are supposed to be. There will always be those out there who try, sometimes with good intentions, to define the right path for you. They might claim there is one right way and all others are wrong. That there is a line and that you have to be on one side or you are on the wrong side. Whether this is about profession or gender or religion or otherwise, things are rarely that black and white. There is nuance and mystery to life and I think you intuitively get that. In fact, you have helped me to appreciate that just by who you are. So if you grow up to be a teacher-librarian-pastor-consultant-firefighter-artist like you’re planning, that’s just fine with me. And if you need to drop one just to make it all work I won’t be offended if consultant falls off your list.

What has happened over this last busy twelve months? You ended your kindergarten year with great success. It seems school is your natural place. You love everything about it and you excel in all areas. Going to your conferences is always a pleasure because the teachers glow when they talk about you. You are a star student, a leader, ahead in all your subjects, etc. We rarely have much more to say than to simply agree about how wonderful you are. Right now our biggest problem is figuring out which books are appropriate for you to read as you read constantly and your reading skills are so advanced for your age but the content of many of those great books for older readers would give you nightmares (i.e. Harry Potter). Luckily we have managed to keep you in good books. Your favorite (and mine) of the year was The Penderwicks. You are frequently comparing yourself to the Penderwick sisters and trying to figure out which you are the most like and usually settling on a mix. 75% Jane, 20% Skye, 5% Batty, but not really any Rosalind. Funny to say I would have done the exact same thing when I was a little girl if I had gotten my hands on this amazing book.  Of course, I did do something similar, but it was with Little Women. Someday you’ll read that too and we’ll compare notes.

In the book department we are fortunate as your Aunt Bobee is a librarian and keeps us in a steady stream of book recommendations. Speaking of your Aunt, you are reminding me of her more and more. I guess the school superstar thing and the constant reading thing are kind of one-two punch. While Gen tended to lay on the couch under a cozy blanket  with a bowl of salty snacks and read the day away you are too active for this approach. I find you reading while walking around the house, while using the facilities, while playing pretend with your dolls, etc. Let’s just say that sitting still for any length of time is not your cup of tea.

Reading in a Restaurant

In homage to your Aunt you also chose to dress up as a librarian for community helper day at school. I guess they don’t consider consultants as community helpers. A bit like lawyers, I suppose.

Our Goofy Librarian

Some highlights of your seventh year on this planet. In January you gained a new cousin, Calvin and in May he came to visit us. You are a big fan of Calvin and love to read the blog posts about him and look at the pictures and videos.

May was an important month. Not only did your cousin Calvin, Aunt Bobee and Grandma Sizzle come to visit (I was turning 40) but you lost your first tooth and ran in your first jog-a-thon. This is a Christian school rite-of-passage. You ran until you got sick and then refused any food or drink. You did manage to find the strength to get your face painted by one of the nice school volunteers. A ladybug, I think it was.

Summer was interesting. You started on a prolonged ‘I will not smile for any pictures’ phase a while before we left for our visit to Southern California. This would have been ok for the snapshots but we happened to have booked a professional photographer to take pictures of you and your brother at the beach. It was an ordeal. You refused to go because you were afraid he would make you smile. There were many, many tears. Your face got really red and puffy. I was at my wit’s end because it was all so irrational and OF COURSE THE PHOTOGRAPHER WANTS YOU TO SMILE BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT WE ARE PAYING HIM FOR when Grandma Sizzle intervened and bribed you with a big, fat caramel apple. Of course, this worked and you finally agreed to go. The photographer took tons of pictures. You never smiled. You did not have fun until the very end when he let you play in the waves and get soaking wet and sandy in your dress. You finally just sort-of-kind-of started to relax, then it was over. The pictures of you are almost stoic, they are so serious. But even though it was not your day there are a couple pictures of you that are still stunningly beautiful and a many that capture your complex and amazing personality.

The "No Smile" Policy in Action

The rest of the trip to So Cal was super fun. You were spoiled by grandparents and got your first real sunburn. You also had a scary incident that involved Papa’s boat, an inner tube, the vast Pacific Ocean and you being pulled under it, and a less-than-graceful rescue by yours truly. That’s about all I can say about that because whenever I relive the incident it makes me never want to let you anywhere near the ocean, or a boat or an inner tube ever again. Ever. Never. Ever. Ok. Let’s move on.

Right Before the "Incident"

In September you started first grade with a bang. You also signed up for your first team sport, soccer, with one of your best friends, Kate. We made it through a few minutes of two practices and about 45 seconds of one game before your illustrious soccer career was put on hold. You simply hated it. Don’t get me wrong. You love the kicking-the-ball-around-the-field-and-running-non-stop part. It was the chaotic mass of hyper little boys and girls, the yelling parents, the evil coaches making you say your name in front of other people! that really did you in. I think you were just not ready for team sports. Maybe you’ll be ready to try again in a couple years but I’m not holding my breath.

Around October a subtle shift started to happen. You began to show more confidence. You relaxed a bit on the ‘no smiling for the camera’ policy. You became very aware of fashion and what you were wearing. You quickly switched from your trusty sweats/t-shirts only approach to wanting to plan ‘outfits’ that included things like scarves and belts and layers and buttons and hair accessories. I have no idea what triggered this but it’s been fun. I knew you had the Cropley/Phillips Women fashion gene in there somewhere. Grandma Sizzle is very relieved.

But fashion was not the most significant change. I guess the best way to describe it is that all of a sudden you just seemed to grow up. Interacting with you now I get ‘elementary school girl’ loud and clear. You still have your goofy side (or sides) and you still love pretend and you still talk in funny voices and try to entertain us and make us laugh constantly but all that has been tempered by how stinkin’ grown up you seem to me. You have such a presence and frankly, you just look older. You are competent and capable and smart and more often now you are able to put your social fears at bay and participate in situations and conversations you would have shied away from only a year ago. During Advent you read a passage aloud in Big Church, and you read it perfectly, with none of that little kid rushing or nervousness that you often see. You never would have done something like that before. Not that you couldn’t have done the reading, but you would have refused to do it in front of anyone, let alone over a microphone in a room with 150 adults.

The Holidays were so full this year. For Halloween you were Selena Gomez (Disney Star) and no one had any idea who you were but you did not care because you got to dye your hair brown and wear leg warmers. Thanksgiving was special because Grandma Bobbie and Grandad came to visit. It was really special for Daddy and I because we left town or a couple days without you and your brother. Thanks Grandma and Grandad! I’m not sure how many pancakes you ate that week but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know. Sometimes denial is a parent’s best friend.

Christmas was equally awesome as Aunt Kim, Uncle Johnnie, Grant and Katie came to town for a week. I think you and Katie played for about 20 hours per day non-stop. We barely saw you two. You were so busy creating your own worlds and losing yourselves in your fun. It was like a six-day sleepover. We did all kinds of stuff around town and you went up the Space Needle for the first time. Santa was good to you, as usual. Most notably by delivering your first American Girl doll, Elizabeth Cole. She is by far your favorite toy you have ever owned (except for Coconut). You treat her like a real person and play with her constantly. Every time a new American Girl catalog shows up you write an “I” next to all the things you would like to have. I recently flipped through the catalog to find and “I” next to every single item, except Elizabeth Cole.

Two Peas in a Pod

And now we come to the day. Your special day. I wish I could get right to the part where I give  you some blessing and tell you how much I love you but my letter would not be complete this year if I did not acknowledge a recent family tragedy, the death of our beloved dog, Momo.

This week before your birthday was mid-winter break. You kids were off school and I took off work to be with you. We had planned a trip to Leavenworth. The morning we were preparing to leave you were sitting on the floor, cross-legged, holding Momo in your lap. You were stroking his fur and singing to him as you like to do. And when I told you it was time to get up you refused and started to cry. You didn’t want to leave Momo. You were worried about him and you wanted to bring him with us. You carried on for about twenty minutes until I agreed that you could look at the picture of Momo on Daddy’s iPhone whenever you missed him. You also made a little paper collage to remind you of him while we were away. You drew pictures of you and he together and wrote little sayings like “I miss him very, very, very much” and “Momo is cool and funny”. Your dad and I could not figure out why you were suddenly so freaked out about leaving him. His epilepsy had been under good control and we had left him before and he had always done well. Our friend Rachael was going to housesit and take good care of him. There was no rational reason for you to be so scared.

At 4am the morning after we arrived in Leavenworth we got an urgent call from Rachael. Momo was having severe seizures and couldn’t stop. She rushed him to the Emergency Vet Hospital where they treated him immediately but even with intensive treatment they could not stop his seizures. He had severe brain swelling and within hours had pneumonia and many other problems. His body was shutting down. Your dad was on the phone with the Vet all morning and we kept thinking he would be ok. He just had to be. However, once they made it clear to us how serious the situation was we made up our minds to get home as quickly as we could so that we could say goodbye to him as a family. Telling you and your brother what was happening was one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever done. We all sat together in that condo and cried and cried. All of us, grieving together as a family. We quickly packed our things and raced the 108 miles to the hospital. Aside from the stream of tears, it was the most silent drive we have ever been on.

When we arrived at the hospital they gave us a private room so we could say our goodbyes. He was so heavily sedated he could not interact with us, but we spent a long time with him and you were gentle and kind. You played with his big, soft ears. Something you weren’t allowed to do when he was awake, but there was no reason now to tell you no. Then it was time and so you and your brother and I left and your dad stayed with him through to the end. He died one year to the day after his first seizures. He was one week short of turning three.

I will never know what triggered your reaction before we left for the trip. Did you somehow sense what was going to happen? You are so intuitive and have such deep, feeling connections with people and animals that I wouldn’t be surprised if somehow, in some weird way, you knew. This is a mystery I will always wonder about. Either way, you loved that dog and I know you will always remember him.

Yesterday morning you woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. After all, there was a slumber party to get ready for. You walked into my office with pad and pen in hand, ready to get to work. You asked me to read your diary entry from the previous day. I read it and got the hint.

March 4, 2010

Tomorrow is my birthday! And we don’t have anything ready. Noelle and Kate are coming! It will be a fun birthday party. We are having cupcakes for dessert and pizza for dinner and smoothies and pancakes for breakfast.

My birthday party!!

Then you drew pictures of the pancakes and smoothies and  cupcakes and pizza.

Before the guests arrived  you had  all the supplies for your birthday party sorted by category and labelled in separate Ziploc bags. You had a special folder for all the notes related to the celebratory activities. You had written out the invitations by hand and mailed them yourself. You made signs for the girls so they would know where to put their sleeping bags when they arrived. You wrote out the menu with specific pizza topping information. I’m pretty sure if you could have driven you would have gone to the store and picked up the balloons and the Mary-Kate & Ashley movie all by yourself.

Yesterday while driving in the car we were chatting and you casually mentioned, “I don’t know what it is, but when it’s my birthday party, I really like to tell people what to do.” And your dad fired back, “Really? Just on your birthday?”

Ah, my little organizer. You have a vision for how things should be and you have a plan for how to get there*. Never have we seen this more strongly in you than in these last few months. Whether it’s your school history project or your birthday party, you apply the same focus. I suppose you come by this honestly. Maybe I should just apologize for this now and get it over with–here goes! Ione, my love, no matter what you do in life or who you become there will always be at least a little part of you that is just like me. I’m sorry. It is inescapable. And if this causes you grief at some point in your life (teens? 23? 29? 32? 37?) I will understand and try to give you space but just know that no matter how like me or unlike me you may be you are 100% Ione and I will always be indescribably proud of you.

So, welcome to seven. I have to take a deep breath as I write that. Seven. I treasure this day, as I treasure every day I have with you. You are my angel, my squish, my baby goose, my baby girl, my Ione-baloney, my kooky-mazooky, and more than all of that, you are Ione. And that is just as it should be.

Love,

Mommy

That Beautiful Smile!

*Based on your considerable talent you may consider a re-order in your future career plans. Possibly consultant-teacher-librarian-pastor–firefighter-artist? Just something to think about.

Transitions

I have not posted in a while. For my two loyal fans I’m sorry about that. Today is Thanksgiving and I have a lot to be thankful for. But I’m not going to write about that yet. We are enjoying the day with Jim’s parents and the kids and we have already skipped ahead to start the Christmas preparation. Jim just had to put up his new white Christmas tree to make sure it was going to work in the living room. But more on that later. Due to the fact that this is Turkey day and that my husband is rushing ahead to the next holiday made me decide it was time to finally clear out the remnants of Halloween candy that linger in our bottom kitchen drawer. I found a few Jolly Ranchers, a couple packs of fruit snacks and this. Worst. Halloween. Candy. Ever.

Need I say more? I only wish that I knew which house these packs of croutons came from. I might pay them a visit next year just to see what they come up with for 2010. I’m not sure if them taking the time and effort to write “Happy Halloween” on the bag makes it better or worse than if they had just handed them out as is. Is it possible they gave croutons to everyone? Who has that many bags of croutons in their house? Can you actually buy mini-crouton bags in bulk? Or maybe they just went through the pantry and found all the crap they wanted to get rid of, wrote ‘Happy Halloween’ on the labels and called it good. Happy Halloween pickled herring, maybe? It is possible they were stoned out of their minds and thought it would be funny. I kind of hope so.

On that note I will transition back to the holiday at hand, Thanksgiving. Here is what I am thankful for.

Whidbey Island weekend away with friends

My mother-in-law’s cooking and cleaning at my house

Reading with Thelonious

Ione’s non-stop creative energy, even when it wears me out

Jim’s white Christmas tree and the joy it brings him

Jillian Michael’s 20-minute shred workout (even though I kind of hate that bitch)

Talking to my sister on the phone all the time

Seeing updates of my nephew, Calvin, on the blog

That I have a job that I love, am good at, and that makes a difference

the people at VCC

my epileptic gargoyle and his sidekick, the mutant space monkey

family and friends and all the love they bring into my life

I could go on, but you get the idea. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Let the Wild Rumpus Start!

Yesterday was pretty fun. I took the kids to see Where the Wild Things Are. I won’t give any spoilers except to say this. First, the beginning was one of my favorite movie openers ever. The beginning and end were both perfect. I would be very interested, once more people have seen the movie, to talk about what the Wild Things were. I suppose there were different directions they could have gone with this–the most challenging part of the script. I really liked where they went with it. And that is all I’ll say for now.

In other news, last night kicked off the beginning of the Halloween season here at Fox Central. The neighbors threw a great party with games, prizes and a haunted house. The kids had a blast. Thelonious dressed up as Snake Eyes from G.I. Joe and Ione was Selena Gomez. Of course, no one knew who she was but she didn’t care. Something about being a brunette for the night really made her come out of her shell. She insisted on not washing her hair so she could go to church as a brunette.

What is the point of having a ninja sword if you can't use it on your little sister?

He didn't wear the mask that came with the costume because he said it was too small. I think he didn't want to cover up his hair!

My little Selena Gomez

The fashion revolution continues! Today's church outfit, complete with boots tucked in , JEANS!!, and a scarf. Wonders never cease.

Metamorphasis

Yesterday, the day of many errands, found me dragging my kids through Ross looking for sheets for Thelonious’ bed. The elastic finally gave way in his fitted sheet so it was time for another set. The cheaper the better. Once they both realized the store had kids clothes they begged to JUST LOOK! Thelonious has been on a bit of a fashion streak for a while, but for Ione this is brand new. Until about two weeks ago she did not care at all about what her clothes looked like. She only cared that they were comfortable. Her approach to fashion has given us a run for our money. For instance, she has never worn jackets. I used to take her to preschool in the middle of winter. I would bring a jacket but it was never worn. In fact, the only reason I even carried it around for two or three years was not because there was a chance she would put it on, but because I didn’t want people to think I was a horrible parent. For two solid years she wore only loose-fitting knit dresses with tights. For the last two years she has worn primarily ‘soft pants’ (ie. sweats) and t-shirts. Hoodies are a very recent development. The list of things she would not wear went something like this:

No jackets or outer wear

No woven fabric

No zippers

No buttons

No collars or turtle necks

No cuffs

No snaps

Sometimes, no socks or underwear

No layers

No belts

No belt loops

What’s left, you might ask? T-shirts and sweats. That’s about it.

The rare exception to any of these was the holiday dress. Every once in a while, usually Christmas or Easter, she would want to dress up fancy which meant breaking her rules and tolerating some level of discomfort. But only for Jesus.

Yesterday, we left the store with a new outfit. She was looking through the racks and came across this yellow and black mini-buffalo plaid dress. Woven fabric. With lots of buttons. And belt loops. And a belt. And a fitted waist. And A collar. And apparently, she couldn’t leave the store without it because it was EXACTLY THE DRESS THAT DEBBIE RYAN WORE ON THE SUITE LIFE OF ZACK AND CODY AND OH MY GOSH IT WAS SO CUTE CAN I PLEASE HAVE IT MOM, PLEASE, I PROMISE I’LL WEAR IT PLEASE CAN I HAVE IT PLEASE???!!!???

I caved. I went in for sheets and came out with a Debbie Ryan look-alike.

Last week she wore pants with a zipper, button and belt loops. A t-shirt with a vest, and a scarf. Yes, I said a scarf. Do we have a trend starting?

You should have been at church when she walked in wearing her new outfit–the dress along with black leggings and black ballet flats. She got a lot of attention. Compliments up and down. She was so pleased with herself. And she’s still wearing it. It’s 3:30 in the afternoon and she has not even hinted that she wanted to take it off and put on her comfies. I think this marks the beginning of a new era.