One Last Thing About Our Time In California

Joe, Julie, Birdie, Anne, Jack (Brooklyn in background--ears big, and amazing)

The pictures in the last two posts were taken in California at a park near where Julie's friend Anne lives, which reminded the editorial board here at the Joe and Clara Jane Blog, that we neglected to recount what was, at least for Julie, the highlight of the trip to the Golden State.  Friends who have know Julie a longtime will also likely know Anne.  But Julie likes a nickname and so they may also know this Anne* as Froppet.  Frops lives in Studio City with her husband, Dave; their son, Jackson (Jack); and their dogs, Brooklyn (Brook) and Harlem (Harley) which--so happily!--is not so far from Orange County.  Julie had seen Frops once in the going on nine years that have passed since Frops stood in Julie and Ted's wedding.  So it was really something to see Froppie, and meet Jack.  (It was also nice to see Dave.  Don't go feeling all sorry for Dave, Fans.  But he wasn't the main event, let's be honest.)

Anne remains as fabulous as ever, and Jack is as fabulous as you would expect if you knew Frops.  Clara took to Jack (like a big doll!  that moves for real!) straight off.  (Joe wanted to tack down the particulars of Froppie, Dave, Jack, Brook, and Harley's condo.)  It had been a long time, but it might have been like we'd all had brunch the weekend just before, or had met up at the park.  Anne got to hear Julie break out her "mom voice"!  When Joe was about to kick up some sand just because, you know, it's like, there. . .Jack's too little yet to have the mom voice busted out on him.  So Julie didn't get to hear Froppie's.  Otherwise, it was all perfect.

It ended too soon, but that, too, made it feel like it was just any ordinary Sunday, instead of one that was anything but.

*And frankly, Julie knows a fair number of Annes!  And Anns!  And Annies!

All About Birdie

Birdie, classic head tilt.  ("No pictures, Mommy.")

In other news, yesterday we had a parent-teacher conference with Birdie's now former pre-B teacher, Ms. Amanda.  Here we pause to say that Ms. Amanda rocks.  Sensitive to parent concerns and thoughts; firm but fun with her charges--and from the observations she shared, it was clear that she knew Our Birdie.  So although Birdie's time in Ms. Amanda's room was brief, it was solid, just like Ms. Amanda.

Ms. Amanda relayed that Birdie understands her physical space and her body very well; she's balanced and in control of her limbs and what they are doing all the time.  She's very creative; she loves what they call dramatic play.  In particular, she loves to pretend to be a teacher, and especially to be a teacher at the calendar used every day to talk about various things.  This explains why Birdie can sometimes, quite confidently, count up to 30.  Apparently Birdie loves calendar time and counting up to whatever the date happens to be.  This also explains why sometimes Birdie will issue teacher-like directives (even if they make no real sense), like: "O-kay.  I going to say a letter and you write it down, o-kay?  And I going to say you name and you say you name."  Birdie also picked right up on the bucket filler and bucket dipper concepts when they were introduced.  Ms. Amanda said that early on Clara looked at her, knocked over some toys, picked them up, and said, "I a bucket filler!"  (And a bit cheeky, too, Fans, no?)  When Birdie arrived in pre-C, she was prone to crying--and screaming--loudly when she was upset, but she has learned to take some deep breaths and use her words.  And so, she was ready to move to pre-B when space opened up.

And here we are.

T Minus 28, and Counting

Joe, almost five

Fans, as you know, Our Hero will turn five in less than a month.  Who can believe it?!  As our longtime Fans know, we here at Raleigh House are ourselves huge fans--of the backyard birthday fete. But it is true that the wee ones are getting less and less wee, and after last year's birthday bash, our yard (and the front stoop) were more than a bit worse for the wear.  So even before our impending move came together as quickly as it did, making a backyard birthday bash tricky to pull off, we'd decided to celebrate Joe's fifth birthday offsite, if you will.

The bash will be at Kiddywampus, which has a few themed parties from which one can choose.  Joe will be the guest of honor at an "Action Jackson" party: "Release your inner Jackson Pollock and thorw paint against our 'magical' giant studio wall. . .this experience is something you can't do anywhere else! Throw, splatter and dribble paint to create unique works of art.  Each guest will create two 18" x 24" action paintings that the guest can take home and frame.  As a special treat, one of the birthday child's masterpieces will be on a 18" x 24" stretched canvas."

Fans, don't you think pitching paint against the walls sounds like one of the most fabulous things you could do as a five-year-old?  It would be like being given 10 tubes of toothpaste and squeezing all that toothpaste out.  Or wear pajamas and tap shoes all day long.  Or whirl around with outstretched arms filled with glitter that scatters everywhere.

The cost of this sure-to-be-glorious extravaganza includes the birthday child and 10 of his nearest and dearest.  Additional nearest and dearests cost extra.  There are nearly 30 kids in Joe's class, some of whom--you will recall, Dear Readers--have just joined the pre-K room, so for at least two reasons, we do not plan to invite the whole of the pre-K classroom.  We explained as much to Joe, and then put it to him: "Who would you like to invite to your birthday party?"

Joe said, "Well, like, all my friends. [beat] You should know who they are by now."

Indeed.

When pressed, he named the partygoers we might have suspected.  (It may interest you to know that this will be a co-ed fete, Fans.)

But there is also this: Joe was quite specific that he did not want one of his classmates invited because "He's mean.  You know, he pushes and punches people."

Now, as much as one's heart aches a bit for this classmate, this reporter will also admit that her heart thrilled a bit, to know that her kind-hearted son is apparently sorting out that not everyone is such, and that sometimes, you need to take precautions.

Good thing.  Because we don't think Kiddywampus has bouncers.

Digby Takes Charge (Going With the Narrative Flow)

The mornings the bambini aren't eating yogurt find them eating Cheerios.  Not so long ago, their Cheerios box contained a book, a slender volume entitled Digby Takes Charge.  It is written and illustrated by Caroline Jane Church, with whom those familiar with children's literature will be familiar, and maybe even with Digby Goes Down.  Digby is a sheepdog, who is stymied by six stubborn sheep who will not be herded anywhere--unless they are asked nicely.  Many a morning, while she was curling her hair in the bathroom, Julie heard Ted reading Digby over three bowls of Cheerios.  Yesterday, Clara selected it before bed.  Julie read the title and then flipped to the first page.  Only Clara informed her it wasn't the first page and insisted she'd missed a critical page: the page that reads, "This book belongs to: ; Compliments of Cheerios; Spoonfuls of stories."  This sort of exacting request is not unlike the insistence upon the reading of every thought bubble, every sign, every label, every word on every page whether it is part of the narrative flow or not.  (The other day, Joe insisted that Julie read a thought bubble on the book jacket flap.  Like one that hinted at the actual story.  The one the book jacket flap is meant to entice one to want to read.)

Note that we're not even in the narrative flow here with this this-book-belongs-to page, Fans.  It's probably only a matter of time before we're being asked to read the copyright page.  (Digby was published in 2007, by the way.)

The Pre-School Room Rodeo

Pre-B Birdie, washing hands, and singing the alphabet.

You will recall that when we returned from California, we reported that the bambini were off their feed.    Exacerbating this trend, for Birdie, was the fact that she was in the midst of moving from her pre-C room (from which one of her regular teachers has been absent for a few weeks) to the pre-B room.  Longtime readers may recall that when Joe was in pre-C, it was staffed by a teacher who had only this going for him: he was totally on board with cold turkey potty training; totally on board with changing one's child accident after accident after accident if necessary until the potty lightbulb went off.  The focus in pre-C is on potty training; curriculum takes a back seat.  But, with the right teachers--and if there are two, not one--it's acceptable.

Five years into our relationship with KinderCare, we know that whether one's child spends any time in pre-C or how much time one's child spends in pre-C has relatively little to do with whether they are confident potty users and underwear wearers, and everything to do with enrollments.  The KinderCare Powers-That-Be will try to tell you different, but this isn't our first trip to the pre-school room rodeo.

A number of kids in pre-K have left now that the summer session has started, because they older brothers or sisters and are being carded for by a nanny in advance of beginning kindergarten this fall, or they are moving to another town, or what have you.  All manner of pre-Bers are moving into pre-K, so pre-Cers are moving into pre-B, and so on down as much as the Powers-That-Be are able.

Clara and nine pre-B friends had a one week "transition" into their new pre-B room, and one two of those days, Ms. Amanda, one of their two permanent pre-C teachers--the one who hasn't been on a one-month leave--was gone visiting family.  (We are going to miss Ms. Amanda, who seemed to understand the unfortunate timing of her trip and apologized all over the place for it.  She's good people.)

So, bless Birdie's little heart, it's been managing an awful lot of late and thus, we have, too.