The Plastic Bag Princess turns five

What's a doll dress without glitter?

ViolaMae and I have had an exceptional year of togetherness, to a degree that we are unlikely ever to repeat. Now, as she turns five (already!?!), I have been thinking about the dramatic changes in her life this year and the wonderful bonding opportunities we've had.

Last September Augie started all-day kindergarten. For the first time in her life, ViMae didn't have her older brother (by 15 months) at her side.

She was lonely for a day or two, and then she began, in a dozen different ways, to blossom. She came to relish our undivided attention. She developed the confidence to choose activities she enjoyed. No longer always interrupting herself to check on her brother, she displayed an impressive attention span.

The Plastic Bag Princess

She and I soon found ourselves spending hours each day doing crafts--drawing, painting, stitching, stickering, making and decorating doll dresses, creating holiday decorations of her unique design, cataloging the shell and rock collection Peter gave her, even writing and illustrating a couple of books. (For the messiest crafts, she wore a big plastic bag as a smock, and I dubbed her the Plastic Bag Princess after a favorite princess-as-hero book, The Paper Bag Princess.)

Among other things we also read, picked flowers in the garden, played DragonVale on the iPad, made up stories, and played dress-up with colorful scarves serving as skirts or veils. 

To top things off, we both began to dance, singly and together. Early last fall we danced programs dreamed up by Vi. A sample directive: "I'll be a rosebud and you be a fairy princess that touches me with her wand and I'll rise up out of the ground and open like a flower."

Shhh...a preview!

Shortly after that she enrolled in a dance class; I've been taking her there every Tuesday morning and helping her practice between classes. That's how I learned about the tap class I began in January. Now we are dancing together in a parent-child class preparing a production number for the recital, which is this week. I'll have more to say, but I want to note that she is giving me a huge gift by dancing with her grandma! I hope that in turn I'm helping her develop a long-term interest in dance.

 As Vi's personality has emerged this year, it is clear that she is very creative in ways that draw upon not coloring within the lines, literally or figuratively.

Coloring outside the lines

She has blossomed as a natural spinner of stories, mixing real-world settings with fanciful ones. She can pick up any little thing and make it the protagonist of a lengthy narrative, or the centerpiece of a craft construction.

She loves pink, princesses, fairies, dragons, flowers, ballet, gymnastics, swimming, shells, rocks, and dresses with twirly skirts. Wherever we go, she tends to wear a fancy dress with casual leggings or pants beneath, to protect her knees in case she climbs a tree or hangs upside-down on playground equipment. On the other hand, she might decide to show up in her dragon costume. And all winter she loved walking into preschool wearing her jacket backwards, with the hood up, holding my hand for navigation.

In princess dress in Pa's workroom

She still loves to be with her brother, and we see that every morning while they are both here for breakfast. But when he isn't around she is quite happy to spend time with Peter and me, and sometimes to play by herself. She makes friends wherever she goes. At a playground or a library story hour she gravitates to other children and melds effortlessly into the group, sometimes becoming the group's new leader. We hear her organizing their games and we never see signs of resistance or resentment. Watching her show some children how to use a big sculptural toy at the library last week, Peter said, "She's going to be a teacher."

Whatever she turns out to be, she will follow her own heart, win people over with her charm, and approach each situation without a lot of pre-set boundaries and limitations. It has been such a joy to spend time with her this year and get to discover her strengths, even as she herself discovers and flexes them.

And oh, by the way, Happy Birthday, sweet ViolaMae. I love you very, very much!

I Am a Jewel, Gonna Shine on You

Augie does a lot of singing around here, sometimes quietly to himself and occasionally while trying to find accompanying notes on the piano or guitar.

One day he sang a tune he was learning in music class, and his face just lit up. Later Peter and I talked about how much this song (by Nancy Schimmel) might mean to a child not given so much positive reinforcement in life. 

Chorus:
I am a jewel, gonna shine on you
I am a jewel, gonna shine on you
Gonna shine on the world, gonna make it new
I am a jewel, gonna shine on you.

Every child is a one-of-a-kind,
Heart and soul, body and mind,
Born to grow and born to learn,
Born to give this world a turn.

We see the world with brand-new eyes,
To a baby, a bug is a big surprise.
Gonna be brand-new women and men
And discover this world all over again.

Some of us children been through a lot,
But don't you weep about what we're not,
Let us know we're fresh and fine,
And every child is gonna shine and shine.

A couple of weeks ago we watched dozens of shining kindergarten faces as they sang this song with great conviction at the school concert. Augie was so enthusiastic his mom says she could hear his voice over the others. (Only a sloppy sentimentalist will appreciate this, I'm sure, but my point is "Look how valuable music in the schools can be.")

Their second song featured a guest artist: Nicholas David from The Voice, whose son is in Augie's class. When Augie began singing "Lean on Me" around our house, he was surprised that we sang along with him. But it's a song we've always loved, and Nick David's first rendition on The Voice, with full gospel choir, was spectacular. What a treat to have him stand in with the kindergarten classes (and a few older instrumentalists) for this classic--which, by the way, also has a wonderful message.

And yes, I dropped the camera into my lap because I was so excited and ready to applaud!

Bottom line: (1) it was a wonderfully fun day for our family and many others, and (2) I hope music flourishes in the schools because it is an important vehicle for learning, self-expression, and communication. 

This post linked to the GRAND Social.

 

Take me out to the ballpark...

Thursday afternoon was sunny and warm, the best weather I ever remember for Opening Day of the St. Paul Saints. I was able to wear my original "Opening Day" t-shirt from 1993 without having to cover it with a winter parka, rain jacket, or even a sweatshirt.

The kids and grandkids joined us for tailgating and the first few innings, and they were thrilled to be back at the ballpark. The grands were playing catch with their dad when a Pioneer Press photographer came by, and this photo of ViMae and Augie scrambling for the ball is running in the paper's online album.

Augie was about two months old when he first came to the park, and ViMae was only a few days old when she made her debut. My first blog post, in August 2009, was about how much fun it is having them at the ballpark.

The photo above shows 2-year-old Augie in the old-fashioned catcher's mask Grandpa made for him. Meanwhile his year-old sister was beginning to enjoy flirting with the big pink pig mascot and sometimes with fans around us.

Over the years they have run the bases after Sunday games, watched batting practice, danced to the band, and carried balls out to the umpire. The chief umpire even invited Augie to help rub up the balls before a game. (You did know that they rub special mud on new baseballs, didn't you?) They love the playground, and sometimes they even like watching the game (especially Augie, who is trying to learn to keep score).

For the first 10 or 12 years, Peter and I were Saints fans who attended every home game, followed away games on the radio, and cared about wins and losses. We amused ourselves (and sometimes entertained others) with clever heckling of opposing players and coaches, or, rarely, an umpire.

Now when the kids go home we settle in next to one another and quietly enjoy the rhythm of the game. Baseball is mostly a mellow experience; some people dislike it for that very reason. But on a beautiful summer evening in Minnesota it's wonderful to sit outdoors and watch a game while keeping an eye on the sky for a soaring hawk and appreciating the changing colors of the late-setting sun. In fact, we're on our way right now. Batter up!

Ain't gonna study war no more...

Periodically the children ask me to type up and print out a plan they've been thinking about. The best example is Augie's business plan for a smoothie shop, which has evolved over the past year or two into a restaurant layout, full menu, and staffing assignments for the entire family.

ViMae creates in a more organic way, but she wanted a business plan like her brother's so we came up with a plan for a dress and gift shop. (How ever will I work in Augie's kitchen and make the dresses for Vi's shop? But that's a question for another day.)

So yesterday they wanted a new set of plans. Augie dictated this, including the properly used parentheses:

Augie's War Plans 
1. Hide
2. Wait
3. Spot enemy
4. Attack and defend
5. Clean up battle area
6. Do it over again (at next battle)

It seems a reasonable plan, especially if one is waging war to defend home turf and has been told to always pick up one's swords, shields, Lego siege vehicles, drumsticks, blankets, and other armaments.

Of course ViMae had to have a plan, too. And here it is, in pink as she directed:

Vi's War Plans
1. Retreat
2. Bring refreshments in case warriors get hurt

I couldn't stop myself. I love peacemakers, but I also wanted to help her understand the fairly obvious flaw in her war plan. (After all, I reasoned, a woman needs to fight for what she believes in.)

"How can you win if you don't fight the battle?" I ventured. She looked troubled.

"Do you want to add something about fighting?" "Yes," she said, but without conviction.

"Where should it go, first, second, or third?" "Third," she said decisively.

"What should it say?" She had no words.

I decided to offer a stark and silly alternative.

"Do you want to say 'Go to battle' or 'Have a party'?"

Instantly she brightened. "Have a party!" she said. So we added it:
3. Have a party.

Peter suggested that I invite her to make a Peacemaking Plan. We can talk about declaring a truce in contrast to fighting, retreating, or surrendering. We can talk about negotiation and compromise (something we talk about in an everyday-living context) or wherever the idea takes her.

I love this idea, talking about alternatives to war and about settling issues peacefully. I wish I'd thought of it myself. And I can't wait to hear what she has to say. She is clearly more of a peacemaker than a warrior at heart, and that's a wonderful thing.