Christmas Eve in D.C.

December 24, 2016

     We went down to DC to stay at Esme's cousin Jess' house for Christmas this year with lots of family.  At one point, I remember thinking that it would be a little crazy to come all this way and not visit The Mall or any attractions, but we were having a great time at the house.  I'd even given up on the idea as it was moving towards dusk, but that's when the crew rallied.  Before long a crew of seven were headed for the Metro.

     As we reached the Metro station near their house, there happened to be a group just coming out.  The were apparently connected with the Coast Guard or National Guard or Homeland Security, but they encouraged the youngest girl of their group to walk up to Esme, wish her a Merry Christmas, and give her a stocking filled with gifts.  Several in our group were brought to tears by the presence of the Christmas Spirit, which choked up a few in their group.  We parted filled with the joy of the holiday season.

     I explained to Esme about the ticket gates and the blinking floor lights on the side where the train is coming.  We waited with anticipation as the whoosh of air from the train arrives just before the train itself, and stepped on when the train arrived.  It was dusk on Christmas Eve, so the train was pretty much empty, but some of our group stood while others sat.  Esme decided to stand.  (To my knowledge, she has never sat down on the Metro.)  She loved the need to hold on tight as the train started and stopped, squealing with laughter and delight when she tried not to hold on but found she absolutely had to (nearly giving Jess a heart attack on several occasions).

     We took the time to stop off at Eastern Market and grabbed two bananas for a hungry Esme who had used up her meal walking to the train station and playing on the train.





     Then we headed the rest of the way into DC proper and walked around the White House block (which at this point was blocked off all the way around the Treasury Building, too.  Which ended up being lucky as Esme said she needed to make a pit stop.  The best place we could come up with was a fancy restaurant with 15 foot tall Nutcrackers on either side of the door.  Esme loved it.

     When we finally made our way to the Washington Monument side of the White House, we merged with the crowds.  Throngs.  (Melee may be too strong, but I swear I was in a rugby scrum at one point.)  After we made a circle of the state and territory trees, I tried to get another photo of Esme with the White House in the background.  She did not really want to balance on that fence, nor was she a fan of me stepping back while holding her hand to help her balance just to snap a photo.  But a picture is worth a thousand words (and I think several dozen of the ones this one's worth have been redacted).

     Time to head home and Esme's nothing but excited to get back on the Metro.  Most of the rest of us are excited about getting a taxi or an Uber and getting home to eat.  So we sent some home by car while five of us made the trek back to a Metro station and on to home.  On the way, a sketch artist started working on Esme, who was busy being the center of all attention as she played precariously with balance and grip strength on the train.






     A final walk home brought us back to fabulous food and family.  What a special day in DC, possibly with memories to last a lifetime for Esme.

Swimming

August 11, 2016

     Another red letter day for us this week.  Esme can now float and locomote in water.  It's been a long time coming...

     She has long loved going to the lake (usually Lake Dunmore at Branbury State Park) and playing in and near the water.  She has used various floatation devices such as a life jacket (required by state law for kids when on a boat -- even a kayak), beach toys, inflatables, and, most recently, a water noodle left by her sister on a recent visit.  One recent favorite is a pair of inflatable yellow fish with a connector between them that she can lay on while either kicking or using her arms.  This has been a great tool for allowing her to observe her increasing ability to move in the water, usually by kicking.  I, being the former Red Cross Water Instructor (swim instructor at camp), have been taking every opportunity I can to teach her effective techniques such as the flutter kick, breaststroke kick (frog kick), and dolphin kick for her feet and, for her arms, the doggy paddle and breaststroke.  She's usually pretty open to my teaching for a period of time, then just wants to play or practice the skills she's learning.  I haven't pushed too hard because I want her to enjoy the water, not feel like it's a chore.

Lake Dunmore seen from Rattlesnake Cliffs.

     Two years ago, on a visit to North Carolina, she became comfortable jumping into a pool (as long as there was an adult in the water waiting to 'catch' her).  Last summer, she started being able to move herself in the water a little with the help of various floaties.  This summer, she has expressed interest in actually learning to swim -- at least partially due to seeing her friends do things that she could not do.  She's been listening to me much more and working to apply those lessons.

     Last week, at a visit to Sugar Hill Reservoir at the Goshen Dam, she joined me on a friend's paddleboard with her water noodle.  We were well off shore (in water that was at least 15-20 feet deep) when she wanted off.  When I started back to shore, she became very upset with me.  She didn't want out of the water, she wanted off the board -- to swim with her noodle.  I carefully helped her into the water and she kicked herself around a bit.  At one point, while trying to get back on the board, she let go of the wrong thing and ended up going under.  I was right there, but before I could get a hand on her she had taken care of things herself -- one hand on the noodle and one on the board.  I cheered her on for handling the situation herself and helped her back onto the board.

     I've been telling her for about two months that the next steps for her are learning to float and dunking her head underwater, but she's been very resistant on both counts.  Until this week.  We left Brandon just after noon on Tuesday and headed up to Vergennes, where we turned toward Lake Champlain and Button Bay State Park.  (You may have seen Tina's Facebook post this week with some pictures of our trip.)  One of the wonderful things about Button Bay is that it has a very
kid friendly swimming pool.  It is designed more like a beach with a gentle slope that starts at the level of the pool deck and deepens gradually to three & a half feet at the deep end, so kids can wade in to whatever level of water they find comfortable.  Fully planning to use this as a teaching moment, I entered the water with her and her purple water noodle, but we were immediately stopped by the lifeguard who told us that water toys such as ours were not allowed in the pool.  I was dismayed at first, thinking this was going to impede our learning and fun, but Esme had other ideas.

     We had fun frolicking about for a while with me swimming around the pool with her hanging on my shoulders.  I continued to let her know that floating and dunking were her next steps.  She let me help her float a little, but it didn't seem like we were going to make much progress.  Tina eventually joined us in the water and I took a break.  When I returned, Tina called me over and told Esme to "Show Daddy what you can do!"  Without hesitation, Esme pinched her nose
 with one hand, fully submerged, then started kicking -- moving clearly toward Tina with no support other than her buoyant little body.  I was ecstatic.  For the next hour or so, we played a game.  Either Tina or I would throw my goggles varying distances from Esme who would lunge towards them, then kick her way over to grab the goggles and bring them back.  (Yes, it felt a little odd to be playing fetch
with my daughter, but the girl was loving it and getting faster and more efficient every time.)  By the end of our time there, she was jumping from the side into the water and kick-swimming almost all the way across the pool.  Sure she's still holding her nose closed with one hand and holding the other out in front of her reaching for the goggles (meaning she's not using arm strokes to move), but her comfort level and skill in negotiating around other swimmers constantly increased throughout.

     Today we're headed back to Lake Dunmore.  I'm excited to see her swimming on her own in a lake.  I just wonder how long it will be before she knows how to go underwater without actually holding her nose -- so we can begin the process of coordinating arm strokes with legs to help her be the little fish she seems to clearly want to be.

First purchase

     Big sister Zoey is in town and while she and Tina were off hiking yesterday, Esme and I made a plan to go downtown:
     "I want to go to the bakuwrly."  (Sorry, but it's very hard to accurately transcribe just how she talks at times.  I'll continue to do my best.  Today was a beaucisul day, and we'll have anudy one toNAno.)
     Just on a whim, I asked her if she wanted Daddy to buy her something at the bakery, or if she wanted to spend some of her own money.  She wanted to do it herself so she started looking for her money.  She ended up finding four crisp, one dollar bills in her cash register.  And no matter how I tried to advise other possibilities, she would have none of it -- she was going to carry those dollars in her hand all the way.
     Which she did.

     When we reached the bakery, she let the kind woman know which cookie she wanted.  Even to the point of helping the woman pick out the exact cookie from the tray.  She handed over her money and took her change.  I tried to help by holding her change, but she would have none of that until I pointed out that, with a dollar in one hand and change in the other, she had no more hands left to hold her cookie.  So she kept hold of her dollar, took her bag of cookie, and we headed outside.
     As this was her trip all the way, I asked her where she wanted to sit.
     "In the shady parts!" she replied clearly.  She led us to a bench and sat.  I was a little surprised when she only ate a small portion of the cookie before declaring it was time to head home, but not nearly so much as when she offered part of her cookie to Tina and Zoey when they returned from their hike.

     How many of you can say the first thing you ever purchased with your own money was a chocolate decadent cookie that you offered to share with others?

It's the Little Things She Does (part IV)

     I don't even know where to start.  This girl is learning and exploring so much, it's hard enough to try to keep up with her -- when am I supposed to find time to blog about it?!  But fear not, intrepid explorers, she's going to bed with mom tonight and I'm going to steal a few minutes for writing.  (Which means I'm not planning for school, grading, playing my guitar or bass, practicing Aikido, planning Aikido classes, gardening, or reading (gasp!) for pleasure.)

     One of the biggest moments for me recently was about a month ago at Good Earth Farms, where we have a seedling CSA.  We'd stopped by to pick up our first tray of frost resistant plants and had a great time exploring while we were there.  At one point, Esme was a little tired and was in my arms, with her head on my shoulder.  I'm busy talking to the folks that run the place about gardening and music when I hear, over my shoulder, Esme clearly say, "N - E - S - H - O - B - E, F - A - R - M, S - T - A - N - D.  What does that say?"

     I turned around and realized that, on their red barn, they have written in white letters 'Neshobe Farm Stand'.  (The Neshobe River runs through town.  Esme's eventual school is Neshobe Elementary School.)  Somehow, this little 3-and-a-half year old is recognizing letters out of context.

     She's also listening closely when we try to teach her that "an-uhn-uh" is actually pronounced 'another' (which she worked at to reach "an-uhd-er," so there's that), and she doesn't actually need her toy binoculars to watch the birds (and squirrels) at the bird feeders outside our kitchen window.  Perhaps not listening so closely when we try to teach her to only water the plants (not the driveway, or the house, or the garage) and that Daddy is not always a climbing apparatus.

      She's entering the arena of imaginative play, whether with her imaginary friend, Flower (who has an amazing capacity to be large or small, here or there, whatever the situation requires); her stuffed animals (which require medical attention at an alarming rate, or at least they did the first few months after Esme got her doctor's kit -- does that mean she's got a limited attention span or that she's an amazing physician?); her kitchen (which sometimes requires one to promise to finish cooking the food in order to get her to go to bed); or with her imitation of so many of the daily activities that happen around our house (and you should see the girl fold clothes -- you never thought of doing it that way, I guarantee you).

     She captures hearts wherever she goes, especially at the Brandon Free Public Library and the local bookstore, Book & Leaf.  We go to the library at least once a week, for books, movies, and music.  It seems she never fails to step up to the counter at some point and engage one of the three librarians.  At the book store (where both my books are on the local author shelf!), she bounces back and forth between her parents and seeking out the woman who runs the store.  (Yes, they sell coffee and tea and some incredible cookies.  We rarely leave without at least three items, whether they be literary, gustatory, or coffee-y.

     She continues to 'play' instruments, though I must admit to being a bit worried when she came over to the door really upset one day with my guitar in her hands.  She had perhaps knocked it down trying to get to the window?  Mostly she strums or pounds, but her whistling is developing past a single note and her capacity to sing a melody (whether or not she kept the words from the original song) astounds me.

     And now my writing time has expired for the evening so I'm throwing a few photos your way to make up for the past few months of no contact.  There are so many more stories to share.  Until next time.

Esme with the first section of her strawberry garden.

Love and kisses to all!

Raising a Reader

     We have, of course, been reading to Esme since she was a baby.  There have been many evolutions of this process over time, but the leap that we saw today was astounding and emotional and joyous.  All the more so as it happened with a book I loved as a child, but haven't shared with her that much thus far.
     On another blog post, I can remember writing about how, as a child, I always read The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter with my mom.  I can remember saying, repeatedly, as we would finish the book, "When I grow up and become Peter Rabbit, I'm not going to go into Mr. McGregor's garden!"  I pointed out the irony in that post that I grew up to be Mr. McGregor instead of Peter.  (So much so that I have been known to chase rabbits, squirrels, and groundhogs around my yard with a rake.)
     Today, along with a pile of other books, Esme presented me with The Tale of Peter Rabbit.  She even told me to read that one first.  So I gave her a little background ("Daddy loved this book!" "When you were a little boy?" "Yes, when Daddy was a little boy, Gran would read this book to him almost every day."), and launched in to reading.  One of the new facets of reading with Esme is to ask her to find things in the pictures, or she will say she sees things that we have to find.  I had her point to Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail and Peter under the tree, and Mother in front of the tree.  I had her point to the tree itself, as it is the last thing mentioned on the opening page.  But, before I could turn the page, she pointed to the beginning of the story, "Once upon a time, there were four little rabbits..."
     "Oh," she said, pointing to the first letter.  Not quite getting what she was saying, I asked her what she saw; what she was pointing at.  She again said 'O', pointing to the larger-than-the-other-letters first letter on the page.
     "Yes," I skeptically said, "that's the letter 'o'."  I might have left it at that if she hadn't pointed to the middle of Flopsy's name.
     "Oh," she said, then pointed to Mopsy's, and both of Cottontail's.  "Oh, oh, oh."
     At this point I got really excited.  Keep in mind we're on page 1 of the story.  I flipped the page and before I could start reading, she found and identified all the o's on the page.  (Okay, so some of them she pointed to multiple times on her way to pointing out all the o's, but this is letter recognition in a 3.4 year old.)  I read the page and asked her to identify Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail, which she did in their red cloaks.  Then I asked her where Peter was, and she pointed to the little bunny in the blue coat.  (How she knew which one was Peter isn't clear to me, but she was certain -- and right.)  We continued this process throughout half the book.  Turn the page, she finds all (most) of the o's, then I read and she connects the picture to what I read.
     She did point to some other letters, seeming to ask me what they were, so I identified N, T, and b for her.  She seemed to not be as excited about that, but then she put her finger under the beginning of a word and said sounds as she ran her finger along the word.  She stopped, moved to the next word, and repeated her sounding process.  She did this for about a line and a half of text, not matching sounds with the letters or words, but indicating that she understood the concept that these strings of letters, one of which she could identify, related to the concept of speaking, or at least making sounds.
     I then started at the top of the page and followed her process, pointing along each word as I read it to her.  She let me do that as Mother got her basket and went to the bakers, but that slowed the story down and she didn't want it to continue on the subsequent pages.  She did continue to point out o's, to Tina's and my disbelief.  We each watched in amazement as we transitioned from upstairs to downstairs.  She held the book and told us what was going on in the picture as she scanned the lines of text with her finger.  When we got situated all together on the couch, Esme showed Tina how she could find the o's on a page.  It did take a while, but we finished the book.  Esme also identified the picture from the book that's at the bottom of her cereal bowl, a gift from my mom a year or two ago.  And she was clear that Peter was a naughty rabbit who ought to listen to his mother.
     If it stopped there, this would be an amazing enough day, but she didn't stop pointing out o's.  On other books, on Tina's purse, on other pieces of paper.  There were several times that she was starting to put herself in a vaguely dangerous situation (climbing on the table, stacking things so she could reach higher), but when asked what she was doing or being asked to get down, she would reach just a little further, point out an o, and proudly climb down safely.
     Still later in the evening, when Tina was typing on her iPad trying to get some work done, Esme cuddled up next to her and started quizzing Tina on what the letters were on the screen's keyboard.  Tina had to abandon work and set up a new document for Esme.  For the next 20 minutes, Esme would type a letter and Tina would say the letter and it's main sound.  At first, Esme's keystrokes seemed random, but there towards the end I watched Esme meticulously work across the keyboard from l to a and from p to q.
     So, in the professional language of our trade, Esme today proved herself to be an emergent reader. Odd how one person gaining access to means of communication can leave others speechless.

Visit to a Friend's House

Talk about a play date! Esme, as you can likely tell, was midway between heaven and disbelief. I really don't think she could have imagined herself actually riding a horse...









And the scenery. The Green Mountains off to the east, the Adirondacks to the west, and a little girl, jazzed on life.





(Please bear with me while I try out a new blog app. I may have to go back on the computer to edit, position photos, and add more text.)

Our Trip to Atlanta

 

It was a ridiculous idea from the start:  we'll get up at 3AM, get to Burlington airport by 5AM, and be on a flight to Atlanta by 5:45AM.  We did get to the airport in time to grab muffins and yoghurt for the flight, but only barely.  Here we see Esme on her second airplane trip.  (The first was a two leg journey from SE Michigan to Burlington in June of last year when she and Tina flew together after I'd packed, driven, and unpacked the U-Haul.)
All things considered, a moment of crying when she had to take off her shoes and her stuff went through the scanner is a great outcome.  The remainder of the trip to John and Raney's place was essentially smooth and painless.  (Aside from the aforementioned getting up at 3AM and the accompanying sleep-depraved weirdness.)

Atlanta airport provided us with several nice situations, such as the opportunity to point out that Esme had been in a plane, then a train (the Plane Train at ATL), and would soon been in an automobile.  This gave us more amusement than it did her for some reason, but she's never seen a John Candy movie, so that can be forgiven.

Upon arrival at Camp O'Keefe, Esme was shown every avenue towards fun and excitement.  It only occurred to me much later that I never did get a photo of the actual reason we went to Atlanta in the first place.  No pictures of my sister's Rehearsal BBQ at the park.  No pictures of the wedding, nor the ensuing party.  There were certainly photos taken at those venues, but not by me.  I was having too much fun then to bother with such frivolities.

This is JohnO, driving Esme off-road through the leaf piles.

On Saturday, while Tina and the female side of the event were having the Bachelorette Brunch, Esme and I went off to Home Grown to have lunch with my dad, who happened to be passing through on his way from NC to MS.  (Note to those who don't know my family very well.  My dad is not my-sister-getting-married's dad.  I'll leave it there, because to start trying to explain the various relationships amongst the two individuals getting married would require knowledge and effort.)  This particular photo was actually taken for Cheer and Trevor's sake, or at least their panda.

What can really be said about this photo?  Irish tomfoolery.

Esme led Tina and I, on our last day in town, to a nearby park that JohnO and Raney had taken her to the previous day.  I was really impressed that she did so, since I'm not really aware of her having ever given directions before, nor having memory of how to get to a place after having only been there once.  I choose to see this as a sign of intelligence, spatial awareness, and personal interest.

The little pink car that Esme drove around herself when no one was able to push her in the other pink car.

I don't even know how to start to describe this situation.  "There was a toilet being used as a planter..." doesn't seem like a good way to start a caption for anything.

Heading home after a fun weekend.  And Morgan, I'm not sure at all how R's hat made it into E's possession, but we'll get it back to you sometime.

Back home, with Esme swinging in the crabapple tree while I climb the red maple.  Esme was inspired, and she climbed our two apple trees later this same day.

Thanks to family, friends, and other relations for making it a special, poignant, joyous weekend.  (And I hope I don't have to fly with a 3 year old again any time soon.)