a rugs life

When my daughter and I visit the library, we usually choose enough books to last the week. Each evening, we’ll select a new book from our stash which I’ll read outloud to her.

Yesterday, I noticed I’d taken out a book that was much too simple for Rada’s tastes. It had very few words, and it was quite short. Rada likes stories rich in description, action and intrigue. She enjoys plots with seemingly insurmountable problems that get resolved through extraordinary means: young girl crawls under villian’s cart to free beloved pet chicken; heroine rides horse through the night to save the village from disaster; etc.

But this book was a simple story about a cat, what it saw, and where it went.

I sighed, and started reading the story outloud to her. And then Rada stopped me.

She said, “I’ll do it”.

She read: “Tuna the cat. What did Tuna see? Tuna saw the rain.” (I helped her with ‘rain’) We turned the page.

She read: “Tuna ran outside. Tuna felt the rain.” (I helped her with ‘outside’ and ’felt’.)

She read several more pages and then said “Ok, you finish.”

I tried not to make too big a deal out of it, but it was the first time.

She’s reading.

Today is the last day of Rada’s school vacation. We’ve been managing well with the adjustment to a different routine and the change in commute involved with taking her to her old daycare provider.

We’ve walked with the stroller, we’ve taken the car, and today we took the bus.

It was a new bus, one that neither Rada nor I had been on before. The bus, the 91, had a stop 2 blocks from my house and seemed custom-designed for our needs. It would take us right into Central Square… a scant 5-minute walk to Tracey’s apartment.

The longer I live in the city, the more I love buses. Although they are often late, frequently in ramshackle condition, and even break down sometimes, I like them. I like the social interaction and I like that they’re something that people in a community share, like a library.

As we were waiting at the stop this morning an ‘Out of Service’ bus went by, always a disapointment… so I asked Rada to be on the lookout for the 91 so we’d be sure to catch it when it came by.

Sure enough, a few moments later it rounded the corner at the end of the street. I just love it when buses are on time. It fills me with hope for the future and deep a sense of rightness in the world. Anyway. Rada started jumping up and down, waving her arms and saying “Its here! Its the 91! See that, a ‘9′ and a ‘1′…Oh, Mister bus driver… please stop for us… stop! We want to get on!”

And of course the bus stopped. The driver smiled (how often is someone so happy to see him?) We climbed on, happy, content, and ready to start our journey.

This week is school vacation. While I’m at work Rada has been spending the day with her old daycare provider, Tracey.  I pulled the umbrella stroller out of storage and walked to Tracey’s house this morning. Rada settled into a spectator frame of mind, enjoying watching the world go by at a slow pace. We navigated several snow-crusted sidewalks and breathed in cool fresh winter air.

Looking at Rada playing in Tracey’s living room was a shock. I remembered my 3-year-old little girl in that environment and this morning I saw the gigantic six-year-old that she has become. I couldn’t believe how much she’d grown.

I would be bored to tears spending the day in Tracey’s living room, but Rada has been looking forward it and has been enjoying the week.  Rada first met Tracey when she had been in the US less than 10 days, which makes Tracey is one of Rada’s longtime connections. Sustaining a key relationship like this is important, I think.

There is snow forecast for this evening. I wonder what the walk home will be like. There are several bus routes we can take, if need be.

My sister Rebecca made these snowpeople with her 10-year-old friend Aikena.

And Aikena got in some snow-boxing, too.  

Because of the snowstorm, Rada’s school let the kids out at 11:30 on Wednesday. There was no way a babysitter would be willing to go out in the bad weather. So after making my apologies to my boss, I went home and prepared to spend the rest of the day looking after Rada and working when I could.

It was fun to be safe and cosy inside the apartment and Rada enjoyed having an afternoon to laze around with nowhere to go, and nothing that had to be done. There wasn’t much work I had to do either: I attended a meeting through teleconferencing and answered a few emails. The rest of the time I hung out with Rada. We frittered away the hours chit-chatting, taking long baths, reading books, playing with her animals, getting caught up with the laundry, and watching a few more videos than we usually do.

It was a great afternoon. I can’t wait til the next snow storm.

It is interesting how different schools have their own cultures and values.

Last year, Rada’s pre-school studiously refrained from celebrating Valentines Day. The rationale for this was related to the notion of Valentines Day as a religious holiday. Given the diversity of cultures and ethnicities attending the pre-school, by not celebrating any religious holidays the hope was that no one in the community would feel left out or unduly favored. I understood the logic, but the idea of Valentine’s Day as a religious holiday seemed silly to me.

Anyway. This year in kindergarten, Valentines Day has loomed on the horizon and has been breathlessly awaited for weeks. Preparations have been on-going and both the teachers and students are very excited. Ms C has prepared all lessons and worksheets to have a heart theme, even the math and science modules. The students have been preparing valentines for their classmates and the day will culminate in a Valentines party wherein the students exchange valentines with one another. The rule for the class is: if you want to participate, you must create a card for everyone in your room (a great policy, I think).

Rada decided to participate, and we purchased a set of valentines last week (next year we’ll make them from scratch…) Rada picked out the theme, which was Strawberry Shortcake, and we brought the cards home and started addressing them.

It was a laborious process. Rada’s handwriting is only now begining to emerge. But she kept with it. Over the course of several evenings, she chipped away at the class list and by last night had addressed a valentine for every child in her class. (Way to go, Rada!)

In order to facilitate the recognition process, I re-wrote the child’s name on the back of each card. (Rada’s writing is big and un-disciplined and still wanders over the page.)

We lovingly put the cards in a plastic bag, and put them in her backpack. We also brought two roses for her teachers. She went off to school excited, breathless and ready to enjoy the day.

Happy Valentines!

Rada is engaged with school. It is what she does. It is her business. I don’t believe she’s thought about whether she likes it or not, its just what she does. She neither anticipates it with dread nor does she approach it with unbridled joy. It is somewhere in the middle. But she is definitely involved with it. It is her life, her world.

Last night she told me that tomorrow was ‘100 day’ and the kids in class were asked to bring 100 things to school. She and I browsed around the house, looking for 100 good things to bring and settled on a jar of colored toothpicks. She methodically counted out 100 toothpicks using benchmarks very different from what I would have chosen. She’d stop at 27 and then at 49 and at 63 and each time she’d ask me to write a note showing how far she’d gone and then she’d start counting again. But she stayed with it. She was on task … totally focused on the project. When she got to 100, she laboriously picked up all the toothpicks and put them carefully in a plastic bag, then put the bag in the back pocket of her backpack.

Why am I telling you all this? Because she’s starting to organize her life, make decisions, handle responsibilities.

My daughter has left school three times this winter without a mitten. Each time we have carefully retraced steps, rethought the traffic pattern, and each time we have found the mitten. They are a very snazzy set of mittens, carefully ordered from LandsEnd, and holding up well in sub-zero temperatures.

Last week my daughter lost her sneaker at Chuck E Cheese’s. It was located the next morning.

The next day, I lost my necklace in the athletic facility at work. Some one returned it to the front desk later that afternoon.

Today I left my glasses in a classroom. They were there when I went back 2 hours later.

I am feeling eerily lucky about all this but sense that at any moment it could change. I am trying not to lose anything else. This is easier said than done.

A friend described it as ‘Las Vegas for kids’. Its essentially gambling, thinly disguised as family fun. But along with the commercialism, ever-present TV screens, and blaring dance music, there is a carnival aspect and it has a garish charm.

Anyway, Rada and I were there for a good-bye party on Saturday. It was fun to surrender to the surreal atmosphere for a while, and to talk with like-minded grownups at a table somewhat removed from the action. Through a series of convoluted events, Rada ended up losing a sneaker in the crawling tube. It was not found until the next morning, so we had to go back and get it.

I made a deal with her that she’d only have 5 tokens for the Sunday trip, enough for a brief visit. But when she made her purchase, the clerk was in a charitable mood and gave her half a cup’s worth. I forced a painful smile, realizing I’d been suckered into another round of games, rides, and candy. But Rada was in her glory. In many ways, for a kid, it gives a taste of an emancipated life. You get your cup of tokens, wander around playing games, earning tickets, and making all the choices.

I sat there, staring blankly into space, wishing I’d brought a magazine.