Le semaine de Madeleine

This week with Sam in the town's recreation department day camp and Lauren away in New Hampshire at EFY (youth camp for church at a local college), it's Maddy's turn to be the honorary only child.

So, Maddy and I are celebrating Le Semaine de Madeleine (thank you, college French classes, for remaining in some recess of my brain so I know the word for "week"). Yesterday we got pedis, went to lunch (mmm...we found out our local cafe serves frozen hot chocolate like Serendipity 3 does!), stocked up on supplies at the drug store, browsed teen magazines looking for a new haircut, and went to the dentist (also, grocery shopping. Well, it couldn't be all good).

I'm loving this chance to have each of my kids with me one-on-one for a few days.

Note to self: try to do this every summer rather than trying to book camps all on the same week. It's worth it.

Notes from an anthropological dig

I changed my mind on this post. Does that ever happen to you?

It happens a lot to wishy-washy people like me.

Sorry.

Like weeds

What is it about summer that acts as MiracleGro for kids? All the extra rest and sunshine and (this year) rain?

It seems like Maddy's grown inches in the last month. She loves her new glasses and being able to see the notes on her music and the leaves on the trees. Is there anything more heartbreaking that hearing your child exclaim over and over again how wonderful it is to see finally? On the other hand, one of her middle school teachers wrote me a letter about what a great girl we have. So that evened out the eyesight neglect feelings I was having.

Lauren gave a talk in church today and did a great job--so grown up and poised. Every once in a while there are moments when I have to re-construct my mental image of my children and this was one of them. She introduced herself and said "I'm almost 16" and, while I was aware of this approaching milestone, I had to do a double take. What? My daughter? {Sunrise, sunset, etc.}

She went on the youth pioneer trek re-enactment last week and had a ball. Here she is with her friend from school who came along and a good friend from the stake (he is also the son of one of my good friends).

Sam is growing faster, even, than his sisters. His new spurt (recorded with a line and date on the door frame of course) required new shirt and pants for church. And suddenly I get a fast-forward view of the man he'll be, sooner than I would like to admit:

I can't stand it! Somebody push the pause button! No one ever told me how wonderful ten year old boys are. He's easy going, funny, and great to have around. The girls are leaving for camp this week and for a few days (I join the girls on Thursday after I teach my class in Boston) Sam will be an only child, subject to the full glare of his parents' attention.

Poor boy.

p.s. Sam always reminds me of a nice combination of my dad and G. Speaking of my dad, today's his birthday. Sure do love you, Dad.

The better to see you with, my dear

Breaking news: Miss Maddy needs glasses.

She's had trouble reading the board at school and some difficulty reading music when she's playing the violin. I've been putting her off, thinking it was not a big deal. Apparently, no, she wasn't faking. (Oh yeah, I forgot. That was me when I was her age. Man, I desperately wanted glasses back then for some reason.) The eye doctor said her near-sightedness will get progressively worse until she's about 19. At least that's what I heard and noted.

Here's what Maddy heard:
Your eyes will get worse and worse until you're blind at age 19.

We straightened that out in the car, where she was remarkably calm when she commented "that's so weird that I'll be blind by the time I'm 19." I would have been weeping and wailing and gnashing teeth. "Why?! Why?! How will I live without reading or seeing movies or seeing my future babies' faces? I have only six years to see! I need to take up the piano and learn to sing! Can I call my friends and tell them the dramatic news and get lots of sympathy?"

Not Maddy. She took it in stride, filed it away, and off-handedly commented about it 20 minutes later.

Does it seem unfair to anyone else that age 13 is typically accompanied by a whole slew of corrective implements, just when your self esteem and awareness are at their most fragile? Headgear, check. Retainer, check. Braces, on deck. Glasses, coming right up. Luckily she wears them well and takes it all in stride.

The space between

Maddy at 13 and a half is a joy to behold.

Sometimes it is a little melancholy to see the sun setting on her childhood.

(For example, her dearest doll Emily 

hasn't been heard from or seen for quite some time.)

But then I remember all the wonderful things ahead of her

and I just feel lucky to be able to see how it all turns out.