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Benjamin started his pre-school year a few weeks ago at a new school (extension of a parents' day out program, which Eliza attends twice a week). The teachers are great and the program came highly recommended to us by other parents. They take a field trip every Thursday and do lots of exploring and crafting.
This week each child made a life size cut-out of his or her body to which were attached various paper body parts like the heart, lungs, intestines (!), etc. The outside body parts said things like "With my arms I like to..." and "With my legs I like to..." with the child's answer to the prompt. The sweetest to read was "With all my heart I love..."; most children said things like mommy or grandma or God or Jesus. I am proud to say that Benjamin was the only child to choose a television show for his answer: Dragon Tales. The show begins every time with two kids saying this rhyme: "I wish I wish with all my heart to fly with dragons in a land apart." With all my heart. Sheesh.
At this age--almost 5--Benjamin was very aware of the transition to a new school and had to process through some anxiety about a new place, new friends, new teachers, and new routine. On our drive home from the first day of school, I was trying to coax any tidbits about his day out of my poor boy. After quite a few non-answers, Benjamin said, seemingly out of the blue, "When are we going to see Aunt Amy again?" I told him we could probably Skype with Aunt Amy some time very soon and decided to wait until later to talk to him about his day. The poor kid had a lot to process!
Then it hit me. Aunt Amy is a child psychologist. Benjamin knew (from an instinct based on experience) that Amy was the one who would understand his needs at that moment. And indeed she did. We skyped that very afternoon and she played along with all of his silliness and just let him be himself. She asked him a question and when he didn't respond she just let it be and they had a great time connecting over just being silly together. Bed time is Benjamin's best reflective time, and after he got his pjs on, got in bed with his reading light, and read a book with me, he opened up naturally about his feelings. All pretty normal feelings for a big transition--feelings that it is my joy as a parent to learn how to guide him through.
Here are just a few other moments of happiness from our September. Ben and Liza got to go fishing with their granddad in Sulphur Springs over the labor day weekend. In fact I think we did a lot of fun things that weekend--Texas Gypsies concert, picnic and swimming at Cooper Lake--but the stomach virus I came down with that weekend puts a kind of haze over my memories. I was the only one afflicted, thank goodness, and there were many hands to care for the grands. The fishing pictures aren't the greatest, but there are llamas! I heard they had a habit of spitting a lot.
My little one below was engrossed in washing the lid to a pot, and I just thought she looked so painfully dear standing there on her tip-toes at the sink. Those little arms. She is a wonder to me when she gets serious about a task.
Art is another thing she gets serious about. As Liza was doing the painting below at the art festival this weekend, I would occasionally say something like, "Would you like a different color? Would you like to use this white space over here?" To which: "No mama, I just want purple. No mama, I'm painting this part over here." JB and I try not to be too directive when the kids are making art--at this point I want to show them what can be done and then let them go. A mother next to us at the art festival we went to this weekend reminded me why. Her daughter was painting and the mother suggested she put her name on it. The little girl happily started her name on the bottom of the painting, not leaving enough room for all the letters, but happily squeezing them in wherever. The mom started saying things like "Oh, that's bad. Oh that's very bad. You don't have room! Oh no!" She said these things quietly, but with what sounded to me like a concern for her own well-being as reflected in her child's work. I guess I heard some of my own attitude toward myself in her reaction. So as I watched Benjamin gleefully muddy his yellow and Liza brush on yet more purple with great concentration, I felt a little prayer of thanksgiving well up that right then, in that moment, my children were being the people that God made them to be, and that was beautiful.
I've been working on some art too. I picked up some watercolors earlier this summer that mom had given me several years ago now, and I've been enjoying experimenting with them. Mom gave me a little art lesson in NY this summer, which helped me understand how to approach the lily pond picture I'd been thinking about but had no idea how to do.
And here's more inspiration from mom: burgundy okra from the seed packet mom designed for the Hudson Valley Seed Company last year. What a beautiful plant and striking red okra!
