Saturday evening we took the kids and joined some friends at Old Fort Jackson for a Low Country Boil. It is a beautiful fort, right on the river. The kids had a ball making crafts and learning how to be soldiers (Fletcher, Henry and Benjamin went off with one of the costumed interpreters on a very long march!) While the kids ran, the adults were able to enjoy a cold beer and a good conversation – all in all a perfect late summer evening!
Posted in friends
About a month ago, we took the kids fishing while on a trip to Alabama. We had a wonderful time, but for Fletcher it was also a bit upsetting. I think it was the first time he realized that the fish we eat at dinner are, well, FISH. And he didn’t like it.
He insisted we release the fish, which we did, and I thought that would be the end of it. But it has not ended there. He has now declared himself a full vegetarian, and asks at every meal “Did this come from an animal?”
I’m not going to lie to him. And if he doesn’t want to eat animals . . . well, how can I not respect that?
Until I came across this article, it had not occurred to me that he might be a bit young to make a moral decision like that. My sister is raising her children as vegetarians, and her oldest is quite vocal about not eating animals. But Fletcher came to this decision on his own. And while I have no plans to stop eating meat myself (at least not entirely) and this will probably make my menu planning a little more complicated, I must say I am really proud of my son for taking a moral stand. He’s a pretty cool 5 year old!
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HGSE Doctoral Student Karen Hussar’s research examines children aged 6–10 who have become vegetarians. As with Alejandra, for most children Hussar studied, the decision has more to do with morals than with personal choice. This is contrary to the theories of famed psychologists Lawrence Kohlberg and Jean Piaget–both pioneers in moral development–that children aren’t capable of making independent moral decisions at this age.
“It’s exciting to see how relatively autonomous and independently-minded these children are,” says Thomas Professor Paul Harris, who advised Hussar throughout the research. “This means that children are being influenced by other children and going against the tide in their own homes, which are meat-eating homes. We don’t know much about how children make moral decisions at such a young age. I think this is a good pioneering effort.”
Posted in uncategorized
Friday afternoon we visited Fletcher’s new school, Jacob G. Smith Elementary, to meet his new teacher, visit his new classroom, and gear up for the start of the new school year. Fletcher’s teacher, Mrs. Rowe, seems wonderful, sweet and smart and excited about this new group of kids. She remembered him from the Kindergarten orientation we did back in the Spring and seemed genuinely pleased to see him back in her class. Fletcher already knows one other little boy in the class, and I have no doubts he will quickly make friends with the rest. I still have a lot of unanswered questions and concerns, but I’m feeling more relaxed. I like the teacher a lot, and I feel good leaving Fletcher in her care.
We let Fletcher carry his camera and take pictures of his new classroom. I didn’t direct him at all, so clearly he took photos of the things he found most interesting. I wish I had thought to take a few photos myself – including one of the welcome to class sign with Fletcher’s name listed as “Raymond Gaddy” (we knew that was going to happen, and warned Fletcher – he seemed totally unfazed but the teacher promised to fix it, and the tags on his cubby and coat hook, before classes start on Tuesday!)
Posted in school, transitions
I spend so much time photographing the children, today it was time to put the camera in their hands for a change! We headed down to the park, visited with lots of dogs, chatted with our neighbor Mr. Brannen (those are his legs in the pic below), and took lots and lots of photos. So much fun – I’m sure this will be an ongoing activity for us!
Posted in photography
Tonight, as I was snuggling in bed with Fletcher and talking to him about how exciting it is going to be to meet his new teacher tomorrow, he started to cry. Just a little, but still . . . I asked him what was wrong and he said he was just going to really miss me when he starts school. (Can you hear my heart breaking? Can you see me choking back tears in the dark and trying to find my voice to reassure my sweet boy?) Trying to keep up the cheerful facade, I told him he was going to be having too much fun making friends and learning exciting things, and he wouldn’t have any time at all to miss me. He was quiet for a while, but then he said it was really a shame he wouldn’t have time to go to restaurants or birthday parties any more. My poor boy! He seems to think he is marching off to the salt mines! Have I done this? I have tried sooooooo hard to stay cheerful and not talk about my school anxiety around him . . . I assured him he will still get to go to restaurants and birthday parties – and Christmas, which was his next concern.
It makes perfect sense for him to be a little nervous but I hope he will feel better about things after we go to school for Open House tomorrow. I know he is going to have a great time in school. . .
Posted in school, transitions
One week from today, Fletcher starts kindergarten.
My mother is having no end of fun teasing me about this. The world is not going to end when he starts school, she tells me. It’s not like he is never coming home! And, of course, she is right.
Sort of.
The world as we know it is, in some ways, about to . . . . well, not end, but change. We are at a milestone. A pretty big one! I know from friends with older children that things move pretty quickly from here. One friend said that once they start going to school all day long, they might just as well be in 5th grade as 1st. My friend Nicole told me that when her son started kindergarten she could see him growing up, maturing, in front of her eyes. And this is a great thing. But it is a little bittersweet as well.
My mother, clearly not the weeping, emotional type like me, is fond of pointing out that this is our job as mothers – helping them grow up, helping them move on. This is, obviously, what needs to happen. But my mother has also told me that she spent a good bit of time, as I think many parents do, wishing away our childhood, thinking that things will be better when . . . when they are sleeping through the night . . . when they are potty trained . . . when they are in school full-time . . . She cautioned me when Fletcher was born to try and just enjoy the now.
And I have. I really, really have.
I’m not trying to stop time. I’m excited for what the future holds for all of us, and especially for Fletcher as he starts this next step. I’m not trying to stop time. I’m just taking a moment to pause, to acknowledge where we are, where we have been, and where we are going next.
And frankly, I see nothing wrong with that.
Call me sentimental if you must, I won’t argue. But to my mind it isn’t so much about sentimentality as it is just about paying attention, being aware. I’m taking a deep breath. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Maybe even a little worried. There are a lot of “unkowns” out there, and for the first time ever I won’t be there to hold his hand and make sure everything is OK. He doesn’t really need the hand holding anymore . . . but it would make me feel better.
My dear friend Lindsay, she of infinite wisdom of the “been there done that” variety, told me something a few years back that I keep holding onto. She said that each new stage, each step on the road, is so exciting and so much fun that you never really miss the steps that came before. She’s been right about that so far – as much as I adored my sweet, snuggly baby Fletcher, the big kid Fletcher he has grown into is way more fun to hang out with. I see no reason I shouldn’t expect that trend to continue. So . . . onward to kindergarten!
Seven days and counting . . .
(Just for the sake of nostalgia, here is a photo of Fletcher on his first day of preschool!)
Posted in school, thoughts, transitions
My baby girl started taking ballet lessons today! She was soooooooo excited, and has done nothing but talk about ballet class for weeks. But when we arrived at the studio, Lola Gray was suddenly, and uncharacteristically, shy. In her defense, there was a lot of chaos in a very small lobby as everyone arrived for the first time! Fortunately, once the girls were all in the studio she seemed to warm up and danced and leaped and twirled with the class. She goes back again day after tomorrow, and has already told me she wants to go right to sleep so ballet class will come again faster!
Every year my family goes to the beach for a week. We’ve been doing it my whole life – piling into the car, packed so full if feels like we are carrying our entire lives on vacation with us only to find we have, inevitably, left something important behind. But then, once unloaded and sunscreened and sandy, that important “thing” is hard to remember at all . . .
I wish I could say that these vacations are pure relaxation. But they aren’t. Not even close. There are moments of relaxation to be sure. But there is also a lot of stress – more so now that we have grown to include 3 sets of parents and children and all the struggles that go along with those relationships. My sisters and I are, have always been, very different people. Throw in husbands and children and those differences are only compounded. We eat differently and we sleep differently and parent differently. We have different priorities, are at different places in our lives. Add the confusion of trying to be parent and child and sibling simultaneously, and it is sometimes enough to make my head spin.
There is always snipping. There is always tension. There is always drama.
There are always tears.
But this is my family. And I love them beyond comprehension. And for one week a year we are all together, 24 hours a day. Family. I would not trade that week for the world.
This is the week where my children wake up every morning (often far too early) with their grandparents and their cousins and their aunts and uncle, they eat together and play together and get knocked under waves together. They get salt in their eyes and sand in their hair . . . and in the process they are forming a bond the likes of which I have never known. I only have 2 cousins, both younger than I, and as we lived on opposite coasts our contact growing up was sporadic. I want more than that for Fletcher and Lola Gray. I want more than that for my nephews. I want more than that for myself.
I always put a lot of pressure on this week, have expectations that are probably unrealistic. My children are growing up quite differently than I did – I was fortunate enough to have, for much of my childhood at least, both sets of grandparents living in the same city. I saw them often. Not for special occasions or events, just for every day. I hate that Fletcher and Lola Gray do not have that. Will most likely never have that. Their relationship with their grandparents will inevitably be different for the geographical distances between them. But, I keep reminding myself, different is not always a bad thing. I just need to keep working at it. In so many ways it seems to get harder every year. Harder to get away. Harder to set work aside.
And then, harder to see the week end.
This year we spent an amazing week at Saint Simon’s Island. Our house was right on the water, so we woke every morning to the sun rising over the sea and closed every day on the porch surrounded by twinkling stars and changing tides. We saw lots of dolphins, drew many, many hearts in the sand, and overcame (mostly) a fear of crabs.
But most importantly, we spent time together. What could be better than that?
Life has been hot and sluggish lately. It isn’t the lazy summer I dreamed of – R. and I are actually incredibly busy and backed up with work – but we have all been feeling slow and lazy. Our adventures have been small and close to home . . .
The kids found this incredibly colorful beetle in the back yard – I’m kind of surprised the chickens didn’t get to it first!
We pulled something vaguely carrot-ish from the garden today. It was tiny, but we all had a bite. The kids were thrilled. (By the way, it is supposed to be yellow – some sort of heirloom carrot seeds . . . they are growing very slowly!)
These are the dog days of summer. I don’t want it to be over. I am not ready for school to start. But the months of no routine . . . it starts to take a toll after a while.
This afternoon, Lola Gray and I had a little girl time. Raymond took Fletcher to a birthday party while Lo and I ran a few errands. I was having a rough day, for reasons I won’t go into now, and it was really nice to be out with my best girl just getting things done. It was pouring down rain, and we were holding hand walking though a parking lot and jumping in puddles. I looked down at Lola Gray and said “Lola, I am so glad you are my friend.”
And she looked up at me with a startled expression on her face and said “I am not your friend.”
Huh? Why not?
“I’m not your friend,” she repeated “I’m your daughter.”
“I know that silly girl, but we can be friends too, right? We have so much fun together!”
“No, Mommy. I am NOT your friend.”
Well, ok. I guess.
I kind of expected to have that conversation in reverse when she is a teenager, but I’ve gotta say it caught me off guard! I love that little girl so much. I hope, in time, she will decide it is ok for me to be her mother and her friend.
Discover the wonder of nature Playborhood
Fletcher & Lola 