Future Bloggers of America
We're a mere two weeks away from the start of school, and my oldest is tearing at the bit to return to socializing with her friends. We've had a few random playdates, but we've mostly been hanging out as a family. There is good and bad to this, of course. I feel like my children have become better friends from all the togetherness.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. The kids will tell you that they can't wait to get back to their school friends.
Ahem.
My oldest has been on my case about calling her friends. I allow it, if we aren't running out the door to go somewhere, and it isn't too early or too late. It cracks me up, because she'll call just to tell someone about this thought she had the other day, about unicorns. Or about a commercial she saw, and thought was funny. Or about how she dreamed she was a fairy princess. It seems really random, but the more I overhear it, it seems like she really puts some planning into these conversations.
The other day, she wanted to call a friend moments before we were leaving to go to the park. I told her she could call when we got home. She was't happy, but agreed to come along without a fight.
Once we arrived at the park, I spread a blanket out on the grass and turned the kids loose to play on the equipment. They flittered back and forth between the blanket and the sand, chattering and sharing little explosions of joy as they played. I held down the fort on the blanket, and watched with lazy eyes as a pair of hummingbirds shot overhead and circled a tree. They came and went several times, and I suspect there was a nest. I called my oldest, my animal lover, over to watch with me.
We attempted to catch them on camera, but failed. From another corner of the sky came a giant dragonfly. It soared past on blue-green wings. We grabbed at the camera again, and aimed it skyward, hoping to catch this giant bug in flight. No luck.
My daughter pulled out a sheet of paper and some crayons. "Tell you what," she started. "I'm going to draw a giant dragonfly, and then we'll cut it out, and you can hold it up to the sky, and no one will be able to tell the difference."
Ah, her first hoax. I'm so proud.
So she drew and cut and I held aloft and we snapped pictures and agreed that if it wasn't for my pesky hand and arm in the shot, no one would be the wiser. I haven't introduced her to photoshop just yet. Heh.
After we finished creating our illusion of dragonfly, I shooed her off the blanket to play. She ran two steps from me and spun around, smiling. "Now I have something magical to tell my friend when I call her today."
I smiled back, thinking: Now I have something magical to blog about today.
Comments
That is magical - thanks for sharing the moment. My oldest starts school this fall, I know it will signal the start of a whole new part of her life and she's so excited, I'm nervous and excited for her.
Posted by: Christina | August 5, 2006 6:37 PM
This? Is lovely! Nicely done.
Posted by: CJ | August 5, 2006 8:53 PM
I can't believe you travel to the park with crayons, paper and scissors! I guess you really *are* super mom:)! Now you have to change your byline about making parents feel superior.
Posted by: Stephanie C. | August 5, 2006 9:54 PM
Beautifully written. Magical, indeed.
Posted by: Heather | August 6, 2006 9:15 AM
I think it's amazing that she already has a sense of wanting something special to talk about. She really is a future blogger.
Posted by: Bethiclaus | August 7, 2006 12:55 PM