Growth

Nana has been coming over a few times a week to watch Luca for an hour after V leaves for work and before I get home.  It has been a gift to have my mom so eager to help.  She and the kids made these "Chia-Pets".  One day, I arrived home to two sorry looking hollowed out potatoes.  But with dutiful watering, they have grown into darling little mohawked grass containers.  Nana is pretty amazing.  Cornhusk dolls are next on the craft list.  Mia is fast becoming obsessed with stories from the pioneer days and she is over the moon about the prospect of having her own "old timey" doll.   



Chia Pets aren't the only things growing around here.  Our herb garden was a huge hit and kept fresh basil, cilantro, mint, rosemary and lavendar in the house all season.  Oh how I'll miss this when the weather turns. 

The kids love heading out to see what's grown. 

Mia's wild flower box is finally coming up too.  They pick the flowers just as fast as they grow though.

Mia's picture of her beloved mountains.  She glued red petals from the red flowers outside onto her flower and then glued some grass at the base of her mountain.  She draws all of the time and is constantly taping things up everywhere.  This one struck me though.  The snow capped peak.  The elements of real nature.  A pretty piece. 

Firsts

 

Just as I knew it would happen, the day for Mia to start kindergarten came.  Rather quickly actually.  All of those months thinking about it, arranging schedules and filling out forms - checking out all the great picture books about starting school from the library to prep her for possible cases of nerves or fear - practicing the bike ride to and from - and then one day, the alarm went off and it was time to get her dressed and send her off into the great abyss of the educational system.

 

In true Mia fashion, her outfit was laid out and ready.  A smart choice; easy and not fussy but still with her trademark flare.  Her bag was by the door and her lunch box was packed, by herself, the night before.  She actually packed Luca's too. 

 

 Mia has this thing....this quality.  This steely resolve to do things by herself.  And with a noticeable amount of maturity for such a tiny thing.  Maybe it's being the oldest.  Or maybe it has something to do with being a female.  Maybe it's nurture.  Or nature.  Or maybe it's just who she is with no rhyme or reason. 

 

She was the first in line and she stood in the sun, with her backpack strapped on while we watched from the sidelines. It was a rather odd sight - throngs of parents, siblings, and strollers watching their first-timers line up and await their teacher to come gather them up and walk them away.  Away from us.  Away from the known.  Away from their years at home, skittering around our ankles and traipsing mud throughout the house.   

 

I called over to her.  "You o.k. Meez?"  She turned and smiled.  She nodded. 

 

Then, her teacher came out and grabbed her hand.  I kind of knew then that the moment was officially upon me.  My girl was quite literally clutching the hand of another person who would act on my behalf throughout the day.  This woman would help her wipe her nose or zip her coat.  She would nurture her spirit and her mind.  She would calm her if she cried.  She would help carry her lunch tray or make a new friend.  She would push her and challenge her.  She would, in every essence of the word, parent her.  And not just three mornings a week, as with Pre-K.  But five full days.  We're in the big leagues now.   

 

I started to cry.  Just a quiet little lump in my throat accompanied by wet eyes.  I was overwhelmed with so much emotion.  I felt extraordinary gratitude for this woman, Mia's teacher.  I felt a profound connection with her.  Because we had something in common, the love I already feel for Mia and the love I knew she would develop for my girl.  Professionally I felt connected too, because I knew that I needed to pull myself together to head out to my own classroom filled with tiny bodies and huge dreams.  I needed to leave my own child to be mothered and taught by someone so I could do the exact same thing to 22 other children.

 

It takes a village.  We all play hugely important roles in making sure children grow up to be productive and confident.  Kind and fair.  Capable and efficient. 

 

I trust my girl to challenge herself and others.  Even authority on occasion.  I trust her to think critically and to make her own choices.  I also trust the system in which I have placed her.  Despite the puddle of turmoil the media portrays the educational system to be currently resting in, I am here to say that our system is filled with dynamic and gifted professionals with which I am proud to align myself. 

 

Education is a right, not a privilege.  I have drilled this into my kids' heads and crossed my fingers in hopes that they will take advantage of each and every opportunity to learn.  As she walked into her class, she was eager and hopeful.  God it was a beautiful sight to see. 

 

"She's so ready" V said to me.  I agreed. 

 

We walked home with Luca scooting between us and I knew that we had entered a new phase in our lives. 

 

"We're ready too" I said to V.   We high fived ourselves and counted the hours until 3:15, when we could go collect our Meez. 

 

A quick hug goodbye. 

Mia, first in line, as her teacher comes out to lead the class inside. 

Preschool

It's official.  Luca is a school kid now.  He had his first day of preschool and it went off without a hitch.  He chattered excitedly on the way there and then literally skipped into the building.  I hung around for a few minutes and asked if he needed me to stay.  He shook his head and that was that.  He continued to build with blocks and I slowly left the room, leaving a chapter behind me. 

I walked down the hallway, listening.  Maybe I was listening for tiny footsteps behind me.  A soft "Mom?" from the room.  I knew though in my heart I wouldn't hear it.  It's such a wave of contradictory emotions when you know you've raised a confident and capable child.  This boy can do whatever he sets his mind to, which makes me endlessly proud.  But at the same time, there is that small part of my heart that is still cuddled on the baby room rocker with a newborn, sniffing a tiny scalp and rubbing little feet.  A small part of me that wishes I were still that needed. 

He flopped around this afternoon after school, both exhausted and exhilarated.  He intermittently hugged his beloved sister with hitting her.  His longish blonde hair wiggled in the wind as he ran and he picked the remnants of a summer scab on his elbow.  I froze the afternoon in my mind, as I often do, to remember in years to come.  Because, as they say, some days might be long, but the years are so short.  Pretty soon this little guy of mine will be in Kindergarten. 

Onwards and upwards Luca.

Sissie said goodbye to Luca today as he left.  She doesn't start Kindergarten until Wednesday.  When I asked Mia if she missed him today, she replied, "so much..." without missing a beat. 

Some swing time before hitting the road to school.

Life According to my iphone

The kids and I made homemade picture frames for our cousins in MA as a small keepsake for our time on the beach together.  We collected those shells on the shores of the Cape and then carried them home to glue on frames that we painted and tied ribbon to.  We're pretty proud of our handywork around here.  

My first baby is totally healed from her SECOND extensive heel break.  Yes, dogs do have heels (who knew?) and they can break them.  She is more anxious now after this last surgery (an already anxious dog being described as MORE anxious is comical, I realize that.)  But she is soldiering on, eating sandwiches when the kids look away and poking her nose into any available laundry basket to look for underwear.  She is sporting a new shave and when she snuggles with me at night, she feels like a cashmere blanket.  Bijou is a true friend to me, and that is the truth. 



These swimmin' fools will miss the pool, which closes in a few weeks. 

Some creek time.  A childhood pasttime which never grows old.  A few buckets, a change of clothes, and you've got yourself a quiet afternoon with kids doing what comes naturally to them.  Exploring.

A nice hike. These kids will be out doing me one day.  Not just yet though.   

We introduced the kids to THE STAIRS.  My favorite workout.  The great ampitheater otherwise known as Red Rocks.  We headed up the stairs and I asked Luca if he wanted a lift on my back.  He asked, "Will I get bigger if I do them myself?"  "Yup", I replied.  "Then, no.  I don't want your help" was his swift and curt answer.  Man do I love his spirit.  

Awesome Erin generously gave us her organic veggie share for the week because she was going to be out of town.  Vegetable soup, salads, and several beet dishes later, we're still eating from these bags of produce!  I like this image because it reminds of the bounty in our lives.   It's so easy to focus on what I don't have, what's lacking, how I'd change things if I could.....but I try to end everyday focusing on what's growing, what's thriving, what seems to be full of potential. 

A few final shots from the trip...

We were separated on our flight home - two and two.  I took Luca and V took Mia.  As they walked past us back to their seats, I'll admit it, I felt maybe I had made the wrong choice in flying partners.  Mia had her headset on and her backpack neatly over her shoulders.  I looked down and saw this.  My Luca. 

I have to say though.  I chose quite brilliantly.  We had a ball.  All five hours dare I say (we had a delay).  We applied lipstick and stamps.  All over our bodies.  We colored and sang.  We talked, a lot.  As we sat down, the man sitting next to us said, "Uh oh...junior pilot!" in his heavy Boston accent.  Luca earned his wings for sure and even earned a thumbs up from our new seatmate. 

Part 3 - Boston

Our trip wouldn't have been complete without a sojourn into our beloved city of Boston.  To us, the city represents so much: our pasts as well as certain characteristics we find so charming in an urban area.  It's small.  Walkable.  Very livable.  With ridiculous amounts of pride.  The food.  The people.  The water.  All of it together just equal a place we hold near and dear.  To our kids though, we knew the city would mean just a bunch of walking and some concrete interspersed with some stops for food.  Boston hit the nail on the head in their urban design  and have added some fantastic splash parks around the city, including one near the North End and one between Quincy Market and the Boston Common.  I packed the kids suits and a small towel in a day bag and we hit the city.  We knew that these changes into swim suits through the day would make it "the best day ever", as Mia later declared.  The day was so special as V and I pointed out things and hoisted tiny frames onto our shoulders to show them where the Pellegrino tribe really came to be. 

We started off in Concord, at the train station, set to take the train into Boston.  The kids put their pennies on the tracks and knew that when we got back to the station, they would hopefully still be there.  But flat. 

It's the small things in life.  Really and truly.  Next time I'm tempted to buy something for them, I'm going to remember that it's little excitements and adventures tucked into the day that make life worth living.  It's pennies on a track. 

The kids loved the train, as they always do love train rides.  We rattled past a lot of our old haunts, even rumbling right by where we used to live.  We lived in a safe area, but working class.  Fences were peeling, if there were any at all.  Buildings were old, but loved.  Gardens were nonexistent and yards were grown over.  Our neighbors worked hard, and played harder.  As we chugged along past our old intersection, I felt a pang or homesickness.  I was naive enough at the time, 10 years ago, to be really proud of the little nest V and I had built together, even with a few mice that happened to live with us in our apartment.  I hadn't been introduced yet into the adult world of competition and the parameters of success we all seem to crave.  V and I were on our own.  Making it.  And we had a little house that we kept tidy and clean.  To us, that's all that mattered.  I remember eating pizza on the floor of our apartment with Neil and Pam when they came out to visit us.  We gave them our humble "tour", which involved a lot of pointing - 'That is the kitchen sink.  And that is the couch.  There is the TV., etc.'  They both said, "You'll never be happier than you are here.  Today.  Right now."  Our train lurched forward and we moved right past River Street.  I ached a bit for the simplicity of our lives then.  It was a lovely time in our lives, a sweet spot for sure.   

The kids cuddling up to James Curley, a former Democratic Mayor of Boston. 

Just taking a break, eating some pizza and enjoying Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market.  It's fun to sit outside and wait for the drummers to come by.  See the video below. 

My favorite picture of Luca during our trip.  Boston was home to so many immigrants once upon a time.  It housed people that fought hard for their freedoms and their rights.  It gave refuge to people who had no place else to go.  Not always a pretty refuge mind you, no, but still, it allowed space for those who weren't wanted elsewhere.  V and I, while so thoroughly American, are the products of immigrants - V more recently than I am, as he is the first generation of his family to be born here, in the States.  Sometimes I marvel that Luca is the only male Pellegrino to carry on the name in the U.S.  Five boys, brothers, immigrated to this country from Italy, V's father being one of them.  Of those five boys.....Luca is the last boy to carry on the name.  When I look at this picture, I'm reminded for some reason of the great legacy our kids get to carry.  There he is, my little blonde Italian, standing on the waters of his maternal grandfather's hometown.  Such a rich and beautiful history these kids still have yet to discover. 

One of the brilliantly placed splashparks.  Pretty awesome on a 90 degree day. 

Strolling through the Gardens. 

No visit to the Gardens is complete without a little nod to McCloskey's "Make Way for Duckings".

The guys in front of the capital. 

We made it back safely and discovered our pennies were, indeed, smushed. 

Dirty.  Tired.  Hot.  With a small token to remember our day. 

Traveling with kids has it's ups and downs, as I've said.  At one point during our day, V and I got into an argument.  Something about where to eat.  Or what time to do so.  Something trivial.  Ridiculous.  Downright embarrassing to even admit really.  But we were hot.  And tired.  And had two red faced kids asking us what our next move would be.  We were turning down Hanover Street, a famous tourist attraction in the North End and we just fell silent.  We walked half a block this way, and then reconciled at the end of the block.  You have those moments that you feel overwhelmed and directionless.  I looked up and there this restaurant stood.  Dolce Vita.  I smiled.  Life is sweet. No one said perfect.  No one said charmed.  No one said fair even.  But it's a beautiful thing to be lucky enough to have. 

Till next time Boston.  Keep a place warm for us.  You know we'll be back.