And Then It's Spring

 A funny thing happened when Beckett went back to school. Oliver actually got to be a toddler.

That sounds terrible, I know. Despite our best efforts, though, being a little brother has been no small feat during this long Covid winter. He has had very little one on one time. He has had very little time to freely explore without being scooped up to play a big boy game with his brother. He has had very little socialization with kids his age.

In fact, most of his days have been spent trying to climb into the chair beside Beckett to join virtual school. 

But, Oliver’s day is here. Last Wednesday morning was so sunny and warm that I took him to the beach to explore. This was the first time Oliver has had a solo beach walk, and usually he’s relegated to the hiking pack so we can manage easier.

This trip was so special because I got to see something new … Oliver discover the beach. We went lots last summer, but he was still in the “don’t touch the sand, don’t touch the water” phase of this relationship. Wednesday, though, Wednesday was new. He collected seashells. He tracked the gulls (“duck ducks”) with his finger across the sky. He used his hands like a sifter for sand and pebbles. He climbed the dunes and tumbled back down. 

It was all new. It was all magical. And I got to see it happen. 

This was fresh on my mind this week when I read the boys the beautiful picture book And Then It’s Spring, written by Julie Fogliano and illustrated by Erin Stead. With its simple, yet poetic writing and eclectic illustrations, Fogliano’s book tells the story of a little boy and his dog who are tired of all the dull, brown shades of winter and resolve to plant a garden for spring. Yet, they discover that waiting is hard and their imagination takes over, fretting over all of the things that could have interfered with their garden growing. And then, one day, it happens. All the brown turns to green, and it’s all new. Spring is here.

It’s been a tough year. It’s hard to wrap my mind around all that we’ve missed this long “winter.” But, Fogliano’s book reminded me to keep watch. All the dull brown is turning to bright green, and I get to see that magic happen.

#juliefogliano

#erinstead

Noticing the Puzzle Pieces

When we’ve reached the holy grail that is after-bedtime, Nathan and I exhaustedly crash on the sofa with our secret nighttime bowls of cereal and, before we dive back into our latest binge-watch, we reflect on our days. More often than not, about our kids. 

We think about how Beckett chats with people in the line at the grocery as though he’s running for mayor, and we laugh at how I can take him to his yearly well-checks and barely get a word in edgewise with the pediatrician. We wonder whether or not we should make him play a spring sport if he’s not interested. 

We marvel at the way Oliver prefers tinkering in the kitchen cabinet to playing with blocks and knows just how to tell us just what he wants with so few words. We worry about the ways Covid has prevented him from getting the socialization he needs. 

And, these things matter, they do. We reflect on these things because we know our kids are these curious little puzzles that we are trying to build, but we don’t have the picture on the front of the box to guide us. We don’t even have all the pieces. We know they are going to change a million times in their lives, but I do believe we already have a glimpse of who they truly are. And, like a puzzle where we find the corner pieces or the patterns first, we also start with that in parenting.

I couldn’t help but think about that this week when Beckett and I read Shark Lady by Jess Keating and illustrated by Marta Álvarez Miguéns. This incredible picture book tells the true story of Eugenie Clark, an Asian-American scientist that spent her entire life studying sharks. From the time she was a very young girl with her nose pressed to the plexiglass at the aquarium, she wanted to study sharks, to uncover all she could about them. She followed that calling her entire life, ignoring limits that the world kept trying to place on her. As an adult, she made ground-breaking discoveries about sharks. 

Dr. Clark’s amazing life story reminded me that it’s not my job to make my kids play soccer or play with the blocks labeled “for two-year-olds.” It’s my job to notice the puzzle pieces with their nose pressed to the plexiglass looking at the sharks.

#womenshistorymonth

#sharklady

Comfortable With The Mischief

Beckett has a behavior management color clip chart in his classroom. He told me about it last fall when we were driving home from school, because he needed to know every detail about the principal’s office. That’s where you go when you clip down to the color red...

I’m going to be honest, I really don’t care what color he ends his day on. We have had no threatening conversations around this color chart. I want him to be respectful and kind to his teachers and classmates, but beyond that, I’m really not fretting it. He’s a great kid, but I’m under no delusion that he will be perfect at school. With full awareness of the privilege inherent in this, I’d prefer he not be. I want him to be comfortable with a little bit of mischief. 

Here’s why:

Mischief gets them comfortable disturbing the peace.

For that reason, I feel oddly protective of his child-like ability to stretch the rules all day. Kids that are comfortable disturbing the peace when they are young are going to be comfortable with it when they are adults … I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what our world needs, a generation of people that are unafraid to make some noise in order to make some necessary changes in the world.

That was on my mind this week when we read Eloise by Kay Thompson. I pulled this classic off the shelf to read for Women’s History Month, with the hope of easing him into books about precocious women with a super funny one. Thompson might have created a near-perfect depiction of childhood in Eloise, with her hilarious stream of conscious commentary of her life full of mischief in her home at New York’s Plaza Hotel. She traipses around, crashing elegant weddings and charging room service, heckling her private tutor and antagonizing the staff. Most notably, perhaps, is that she does it all with a total lack of fear of getting in trouble.

Now, I’m going to make sure my boys have boundaries and expectations around kindness and respect and safety, but I’m not going to harp on the behavior chart. I don’t want to scare the mischief out of them.

If I send my boys out into the world with kindness, love and a little of Eloise’s disregard, there’s no telling what they can do.

#eloiseattheplaza

#womenshistorymonth

Dr. Seuss Let Me Down

Dr. Seuss got it wrong.

His birthday is today and, unlike past years, many have chosen not to celebrate him. The racist content in his early work is no longer being ignored.

Now, for context, Dr. Seuss’s birthday has been widely celebrated in schools since 1998 as a way to promote early literacy, one of the primary missions throughout Geisel’s life. Spearheaded by the NEA, March 2nd was branded Read Across America Day, which has now been rebranded to “Create & Celebrate A Nation Of Diverse Readers.” Just yesterday, President Biden completely disassociated Dr. Seuss with Read Across America. 

I am committed to standing on the right side of diversity and inclusion, so bear with me, but this one hurts. I have studied Dr. Seuss extensively and, until recently, borderline idolized him. I almost convinced Nathan to name our second kid Theodor. I have visited his museum in Massachusetts. I have read many biographies, some illustrated, like Klimo’s The Great Doodler, and some not, like Morgan and Morgan’s Dr. Seuss and Mr. Geisel. All of which highlight his magical and intriguing life, leaving out details about racist propaganda and illustrations featuring antisemitism and Orientalism. 

Yet, here I am, preparing to clean out the Seuss books in the playroom. Except for one, Dr. Seuss: The Great Doodler. 

We’ll read his biography and then we’ll discuss what’s happening today, because I want my boys to know who he is, not who I hoped he was. Later in his career, Geisel made some edits and thematically changed course. While those changes matter, they weren’t enough, because he continued to profit from plenty of remaining hurtful content.

My boys will know there is space in this world for redemption, but only if we do the work, make some true sacrifices, and humbly change course. I wish Dr. Seuss had.

#readacrossamerica

#drseuss