I realized recently who the true audience for this blog is. This is for Esme. I don't know if she'll ever want to read it, nor do I really care. But if she wants her daddy's perspective on the early years of her life, or finds the writing compelling, she'll have access to it. (I love you, Boo.)
I'm in my fourth week of school. Or is it fifth? Fifth, I think. (Ahh, a peek into the mind of a teacher...) This has meant great changes in my relationship with Esme. After spending whole days of her life exploring the world through her lens, seeing what she saw and noticing the little moments of exploration and joy, I now see her awake for, at most, only five hours a day. At times I feel energetic and full of joyful love and I want to chase her around, toss her in the air, and play for an hour or more. We walk down to the park behind the library and she hangs from bars, climbs stairs and slides (I condone climbing slides as a parent and when I'm playing, but disallow it as a teacher), swings, and rocks on the horse (or frog, or lion). We walk the balance beam when it's almost time to go.
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| Did I mention she's climbing? |
She'll push her doll stroller down the sidewalk on the way there, getting distracted by sticks, grass, leaves, and passing motorcycles and trucks. Frequently, the stroller is abandoned on the side of the walk, and Esme will carry Fanette (or baby, or other baby) the rest of the way to the playground. When she sees it on the way back, always from a great distance, she squeals and takes off running to get it (as if she had no idea it would be there and "isn't this just the best thing ever?! I love that stroller!"). She'll proudly and carefully put her doll/baby in the stroller, almost tucking them in at times, then start strutting down the sidewalk full of purpose and spunk.
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| Get out the way, Bo! Here comes Esme! |
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| In full-on power-walking mode |
I love her for keeping me in shape. I haven't really trained on a mat since July, though I did make a point of doing 40 handstand pushups on my 40th birthday (with all the associated build-up and training), but I find ways to include Aikido training in my walks and playing with her. There's the obvious physical workout of picking her up, tossing her in the air, and catching her to set her gently on the ground, but there's also the attentiveness training of taking a walk with her. I try to move when she moves and stop when she stops. And she's highly erratic. She'll go from a casual stroll to a full run to a dead stop within two sections of sidewalk. (It gives me some hope that the next time I'm Uke for Sensei that I'll still have some chance of following what he wants me to do -- not much, of course, since I've never actually followed exactly what Sensei wants me to do, just had some chance of getting there.)
She continues to be enthralled by music. She dances in her highchair, in the kitchen, out in restaurants -- all it takes is for a song to be playing with a clear rhythm. [Her current musical collection includes two drums, a harmonica, a recorder, a xylophone/bell spinny-thing (which I'm sure is the exact brand name of the thing), an electric-acoustic-howly dog (which you'll have to come visit to really appreciate), a kazoo, a water-bird whistle (which also has to be encountered to be appreciated), and any object that makes a noise if you hit it against another object.] As far as I can tell, her sense of rhythm is better than mine (and that's the only compliment about music I got for the first 8 years I played -- you've got good rhythm) and she's very able to hear and repeat sounds. Couldn't tell you if she's on pitch -- if I could do that, I could do it for myself, too, and both my singing and bass playing could get better. There's still one song of mine that she seems to dislike, but most of them she'll happily dance along if I engage her while I'm playing.
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| She also has a cow in the neighbor's yard that she likes to let her baby ride. |
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| That's my girl... |
