Zero, 6, 12...

I have always been fascinated by math. I am no mathematician but intuitively numbers make such perfect sense to me; the balance, the nice tight little packages, the process to get the correct answer.

You know your are slightly nuts if you find equations beautiful. But, I sort of do.

I also love the slightly mystical aspect of what different important numbers mean. Like your birthday divided by how many kids you have means....who knows but it sure is interesting.

I guess the reason why I have been pondering this lately is because Shea is 6 and Molly is 12.

I look at them and think, "When Shea was tiny, Molly was 6 the same as Shea is now. Now she is 12. Wow!" I know, I know, this doesn't seem like a cloud parting piece of info but it keeps on smacking me in the forehead.

She was 6, now she is 12 before I know it she will be 18!

He is 6 and will be 12 when Molly is 18! Interestingly, I can't even venture to think of Shea older than 12 perhaps because he is still my baby.

I guess the real point is: OMG! My kids are growing up so fast! Duh!

Shea is 6 and turning into a big boy in front of my very eyes. Just over the weekend, he swam by himself without the swimmy vest. He is completely potty trained with very few accidents. He is reading as he goes into 1st grade this fall. If someone could have predicted this for me when he was 3 and not talking, I would have sobbed with relief.

He is confident and independent and gets out there and competes with bigger older kids. In fact, as I watch him he is right in there with the rough and tumble crowd. I am poised to intervene when it gets too much and to remind him to use his words instead of his hands. But I am delighted that he is as confident as he is and isn't shy about jumping into the fray. A trait that will serve his well down the road, I believe.

On another note, I am loving age 12! 11 was so-so but 12 rocks. I was trying to describe it to my excellent mommy posse today. It's like there were all these threads of maturity flailing around and by 12 they are getting tied up nicely into sweet little bows.

Can I be more specific? I will try.

Last summer Molly did not want to do any camps. She wanted down time so I let her. I knew she was bored and she sure got cranky with all that unstructured time. So, I decided I wasn't going to let that happen again this year.

I got turned onto a program through the UW's Robinson Center for Young Scholars. It is called Summer Challenge and they offer a math course. It is 3 weeks long during the summer from 9:00 - 2:30 everyday. I know, epic!

Her math scores were good enough to get in and they also required a teacher recommendation. So, I broached the subject with her. The conversations were at times rocky.

She said, "Mom, that sure sounds like school. If you were my age, would you want to go to school for 3 weeks during the summer?"

I refused to buckle. I finally boiled it down to this and stood firm.

"My job as your mother is to present doors of opportunity for you. I would not be doing my job if I did not. For you, school is easy. Perhaps a little TOO easy and you need to be challenged. You have a gift for math and you need to be challenged to reach your full potential. I think this math camp will be a great experience."

Amazingly, she went for it. There was some typical 11 year old whining but I stood firm. The money was already paid, can't get out of it now, etc.

Oh sure, these was some bribery but basically that new 12 year old was emerging and maybe she dug it that she was accepting into a prestigious program. In fact one of only 5 girls accepted to the program out of 20 kids!

We live on a wonderful little island with great people but it is a small town. And, I want my kids to see that there is a nice, big, exciting world out there with lots of fascinating people. The world does not end at our shores.

So, now it is upon us as I hang out in the University District while she is at her math camp and how is she taking it? With the new calm and confidence of 12. Bless her heart!

12 seems to bring a new sense of contentment, confidence and self discovery; awareness of strengths and attributes are explored and realized; excitement begins to bubble about a bright future; big kid joy, pre-teen wonder and a new more grown up sense of humor.

For example: Monty Python is really, really funny!

Bubble goes to kindergarten

Our beloved SLP (Speech Language Pathologist) has been threatening to make a school visit for some time.

Logistics made it difficult until lately because Bubble now lives on Vashon! She spends long weekends out here and sees Shea every Saturday or Sunday depending on what is going on.

I blubber my thanks and more thanks every once in a while because I don't have to drive Shea to the big city every week anymore and we still get to see our beloved, Bubble. I feel so dang lucky!

With all the shake up with placement for next year, she offered to go in an see how he was doing and give me her opinion of whether moving onto 1st grade would be a good idea.

She visited yesterday and then called immediately and gave me a long, detailed report.

Shea listens in class! He pays attention! He converses with his classmates! And, he raises his hand to answer questions!

Bubble says he gets along well with his typically developing classmates and they seem to like him. I mean, who wouldn't, right? But she says he smiles all the times and greets other enthusiastically, is in good humor and he draws others to him.

To say that I literally gasped with relief and joy is an understatement. For a long time I have wanted to be a fly on the wall, to see him objectively, but my presence is just too big and encumbering when I am there. Shea is way too aware of me and my being there effects how he acts.

Bubble is leaning more and more toward 1st grade for our sweet boy. And, unless some of the standardized assessments paint a wildly different picture, I think we will go for it.

Part of it is: raising the bar high. Last year, when I was sure Shea wasn't ready for Kindergarten but the school thought he should give it a try, I was joyously amazed at his progress and how far he has come. I am thinking that the tendency to coddle and protect, although understandable, might hold him back.

If his very familiar specialists feel he is ready to blaze a new trail, who am I to contradict? I am the worry wart. I am the frettful mommy always with the "What if?" rolling around in my head.

Maybe that is what happens, after a while you learn to listen. Is that age? Is that wisdom? Is that fatigue and relief that someone else is making decisions?

I have decided it doesn't matter.

A dear friend had a little dinner party the other night at her place on the beach with all my favorite people. There were tons of kids and Shea was down there doing all that they were doing; canoeing, throwing rocks in the water, helping to build a beach fire.

I was watching from the deck and thought, "Shea is 6 and Molly is almost 12." In 6 more years she will be 18." There is something about these numbers. I know I will never stop being a mother but I feel like 2/3 of my heavy lifting is done with Molly and 1/3 with Shea.

And, then that soft, sticky, cloud of doubt descends again. I know that Molly will be well prepared for life at 18. Oh, don't worry, I will still be checking in on her no matter what. But Shea? What will he be like at 18?

If this, raising the bar high strategy is any indicator, he will be just fine. Maybe not quite as independent as his sister but who knows.

There is a secure and happy place in this world for Shea. A place for us all.

Wicked impatience: a holiday tradition?

Do you still get excited for Christmas morning? The tearing into the vast pile of gifts? After all these years, do you still get impatient for it to begin? Count down the days? Bristle with anticipation? Is the advent calendar just a tease?

Me? Not really. I am such an old crunchy grown up now that the season seems to just speed by. Today Thanksgiving, tomorrow Christmas. There is still, of course, that magical feeling in the air. Something kinder, more generous seems to hit humanity in the forehead.

I like that.

The tension in our house is palpable. Impatience at 11 is a very real thing. I can remember the flutter of anticipation that would sit in my stomach when I had to wait the allotted days. It is not hidden. It is not gentle or kind. It is out there for all to see on my middle schooler's cuff and she is working it for all its worth.

For about 2 weeks now, she has been nagging, cajoling, begging to open up her presents early.

I just shake my head with annoyance. She must think I rule the heavens, earth and the calendar but, I am sorry to say, my influence does not go that far.

"No! You have to wait until Christmas morning just like every one else!" I finally bellow after being needled for what seems like hours. Chagrined, she slinks away to regroup but just circles round to try again.

Sigh. No wonder I am exhausted.

I thought that Shea was somewhat impervious to this emotional roller coaster but when Molly proclaimed her impatience aloud just the other day, Shea piped up promptly and said, "Me too!"

Sitting back and watching their gyrations is touching although I remember it being tough when I was a kid. But, how long will it last? How long will they be enchanted by the stories, the tree, the gifts, the traditional shows we watch every year, our combined tradition?

When will it happen that they are more concerned with activities outside our tight little family unit? Answer: incrementally.

For that, I am not impatient.

I feel thankful, yet again, for all that I have. The health and happiness of those I hold dear. And, as the years pass, as the kids grow older; grow up and away, I will look back fondly to these unnerving assaults on the tradition. The wheedling, the begging, the aching ampatience; all tidings that my kids are still kids.

For, a while yet.

May your holiday be warm and wonderful and shared with friends and family.

Best wishes to you all!

IKEA virgin

Yesterday, I took Molly for her very first shopping trip to IKEA. I thought I would let her go a little wild so that she could trick out her new room. She has been a real trooper all this time and I thought she really deserved to personalize her room with a new comforter cover/pillow cases, some unique storage contraptions and some fun things for her walls. Plus, I needed a few things so we took the whole day, just us, and had a really great time.

Not to make a trashy post focusing on consumerism although IKEA rocks...hard. But, it got me thinking about the difference in my daughter as she is growing up.

There was a time when a trip to IKEA would have been hell warmed over. She would have been ok to stay in the "ball room" for a while but would have eventually nagged us right out the door. Needless to say, this is why I have never taken her before. Why go if you couldn't care less about checking out cool lamps?

But that attitude is gone; stashed away with the fairy wings and the Pony Pal books. She is my big girl now and we easily killed 2 hours just shopping.

"Hey, mom, look at this!" "Wow, check this out!" "Wouldn't this be cool?" etc, etc, etc.

Needless to say, we had barely got all the goodies into the car when we were planning another trip soon because it was so much fun. The usual IKEA problem.

And, it wasn't all just buy, buy, buying. Remember, we live on an island so there is the inevitable ferry trip to get anywhere. Some of the best conversations I have with my kids are stuck in the car on the ferry.

Yesterday was no different. She mentioned that she was nervous about the upcoming play because of one boy in her math class who has been mocking her. We spent a lot of time brainstorming superior snark to throw at the kid if he dares to make fun of her. We got silly. We were over the top. But some good points were made and some secrets were shared; who likes who at school, who said what to whom and other 5th grade ponderings.

Amazing.

"Wow, thanks Molly, for being so fun to hang out with." And, she said, "Yeah, mom, thank you for being so fun to hang out with too! I had a blast."

I'll be sure to stash that day in the permanent memory file. It's a keeper.