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

Where's The Magic?

Where is the magic going to be?

I keep stewing over that question as I anticipate Beckett’s kindergarten year in front of the computer screen.

I’m grateful for the decisions that were made, but carpet read-alouds, science experiments, and math centers don’t happen over a screen or behind shields or six feet apart.

So where is the magic going to be?

I asked that same question four years ago as I took a trip to study some of the most magical children’s books from my childhood.

Prince Edward Island, where I discovered the island that inspired L.M. Montgomery‘s Anne of Green Gables, my childhood kindred spirit. New Hampshire, where I visited the H.A. and Margret Rey Curious George Museum; and the Morgan Hill Bookstore where I met the late Tomie dePaola. Boston, where I floated through the Public Garden like McCloskey’s Make Way for Ducklings and E.B. White’s Trumpet of the Swan. Concord, where I toured Louisa May Alcott’s Orchard House of Little Women. Amherst, where I celebrated the art of illustration at the Carle Museum. Springfield, where I played with Yertle the Turtle with Beckett and studied Theodor Geisel at the Seuss Museum and Sculpture Garden. New York City, where I dined at the Plaza for an “Eloise” tea, searched for Stuart Little in Central Park, gorged on a Harry Potter-themed pasta dinner in Williamsburg and retraced my steps for Knuffle Bunny in Park Slope. Only to land back in Greensboro, where I somehow did not collapse in disappointment from my experience.

This trip reminded me of something that serves me so well today as I prepare for this next phase of Covid-life. The magic is everywhere. These authors exemplified adventure, mischief, courage, heartache and joy, and they did it from their own imperfect lives. These authors lived through wars, pandemics, loss, abandonment, rejection and they still brought us the magic. They gave it to us through a curious monkey, a hungry caterpillar, a six-year-old girl at the Plaza, a cat with a striped hat, a good witch in Italy and an orphaned boy who learns he’s a wizard. When the trip was over I didn’t collapse in disappointment, but I was reminded that there’s always room to bring the magic.