The Girl & The Pirate Ship

The traffic over the Alex Fraser bridge is unpredictable. It’s at the worst possible time of the day that I traverse the route during the working week. Most of the time, it’s busy but bearable. But on the day this week that I made my way to pick up the Girl, there were multiple accidents in both directions along the route.

So, in picking up the Girl at daycare that dark and rainy evening, and attempting a return journey, I just gave it up. It was time to say uncle to the traffic, being as it was completely clogged, and shrouded in darkness, rain, and palpable impatience all around. I think it was Shakespeare, or William Blake who once said: “You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em”.

So, the Girl and I got off the highway and repaired to a local family restaurant known for their varied menu, “O”sauce times three, and pirate-oriented kids menus. You know the one.

It was here that the Girl drew this:

It’s a picture of us, her and me, on a pirate ship of course. She took the liberty of dressing me as a pirate. Note the hat. And pay particular attention to the large, blue earring on my left ear, there. That was something she wanted me to notice specifically.

I’m sure the pirate theme of her menu helped to inspire it. But, I wonder too about the idea of adventures, of travailing the dark, rainy landscapes together, braving crazy traffic, with a bit of an adventure at coming to a restaurant to eat instead of my place might have had something to do with it too.

Our time together is very intentional. That’s the nature of how things are in both of our lives right now when it comes to each other. Sometimes, it really can feel like a nation of two, at sea together (in the best sense of that phrase), on adventures, even if some of them aren’t all that exciting to the casual observer.

It seems to me that this thing we’re all in, whatever it is, is a series of voyages. We gain and lose shipmates along the way. And when we all get to a certain age, maybe our ideal sailing companion on the search for treasure isn’t going to be our Dad. But, I do know that when this era is over, when spending hours on end together, just she and I, isn’t going to be enough for her, I will miss it. She will grow to the point that she will need the presence of others more so than she will need mine; her peers, her lovers, her times that she’ll need to be off on her own, and in her own presence, without anyone. That’s as it should be, of course.

But even when I will celebrate the person she becomes, I will miss the little Girl she was. This knowledge makes me want to capture moments like this as they happen, to savour them, to hard code how they make me feel into my memory, to be aware that I am in an era that is progressing toward newer ones that hold their own treasures, with everyone involved in them all in the state of becoming, including myself.

Perhaps this picture holds a symbol of this era she and I are in right now together, here in 2012 on the cusp of 2013. Maybe not. I don’t know. But, I really like it. It made me want to preserve it for posterity.

So, here it is.

The Girl and the Schedule

I was supposed to see the Girl get her orange belt in karate tonight, and was even on my way to the karate dojo to do just that. But, her Mum called to say that the Girl was home, sick. Stuck in traffic on the way anyway, I figured I’d go by and see her, even though it wasn’t my night.

At present, my nights are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays overnight, with Sunday mornings therefore thrown in. Since her Mum and I split, it’s pretty much stayed this way, although I had Thursdays instead of Wednesdays for a long while. Those are my nights. The Girl, at this point, knows the routine. There have been times when we’ve deviated from it, for special occasions and other things. It’s not like the break-up is a hostile thing so much so that there’s no flexibility when it comes to sharing moments of triumph, like a karate belt ceremony.

But, sometimes  I think it strikes The Girl as weird that I’m there on the days I’m not “supposed” to be. I think when I swung by there tonight, she was surprised to see me. It’s like she lives in two worlds, two planets. One is the one I’m on. And the other is the life she has with her Mum. Well, maybe I’m more like a moon to her, rather than a whole planet.

Source: observando.net via ecomom on Pinterest

But, that’s actually OK.

One thing we talked about early on is that we wanted to make sure that the Girl was rooted, that she always felt a sense of home, not trapped between worlds, between two parents, even if she is a frequent flyer. Mostly, I think it works. That’s why it’s weird for her to see me not on my night, I think.

Once again – weird is good. I always knew it.

The Girl and The Giraffe Costume

This post is a bit late I know. Part of it is denial that my favourite season is over. I know that November is technically still Autumn, the season in question. But, I kind of count Autumn as being Mid-August to Hallowe’een.

November is kind of it’s own season to me. It’s that dreary time between the end of Hallowe’en and the start of Christmas hype, that period which holds horrors of its own I guess.

But, you didn’t come here to hear my humbugging.

This post is all about Hallowe’en, and the giraffe costume.  And there was the Jack ‘O Lantern, too.

This year the perennial Hallowe’en question was asked; is the Jack O’Lantern scary or funny? Usually, the answer has been a firm “Funny”. But, this year, we went with “scary”:

Looking at it in this picture, it looks kind of friendly.

Maybe the scariest bit is the leftover stringy mess still inside of it. I could never figure out how other people make it so pristine in there. But, to heck with pristine anyway. I cut that thing with a steak knife, friends. And we feasted on roasted pumpkin seeds when it was all over. Sorted!

But, all of this was in preparation for the donning of the Giraffe costume. It was every bit as great as I hoped it would be. Just look.

Note the rain boots. The whole thing was a bit touch and go because of the weather. It was raining, like a lot. It made me think that it has certainly rained on Hallowe’ens in the past. But, this was looking grim.

But the show must go on. And so it did.

The weather gave us all a break, and it was a slightly soggy, yet totally cool evening, bar the inevitable idiots shooting off firecrackers in enclosed spaces, and freaking out the kids. Still, that was just a minor intrusion in the end.

The Girl, as a giraffe, and her friend from across the street (dressed as a princess) hit the neighbourhood. They had fun exploring. Hallowe’en is the only time of the year in this era of the early 21st century when we can actually meet our neighbours where they live.

Before we embarked, we chatted about the whole point of Hallowe’en just before going out. It was concluded that the fun part is definitely the dressing up and pretending to be somebody/something else.

OK. The candy figures in too.

Happy Hallowe’en! Better late than never!

The Girl and The Parent Teacher Meeting, Grade 2

This title sounds a bit ominous, maybe.

Actually, The Girl wasn’t really involved in this episode of MatGtGaM. This was mostly about me and the Girl’s Mum meeting with her teacher, Mrs, Segers. I’ve actually met her very briefly when the school held an assembly cum meet the teacher cum take a tour of your kid’s classroom – which we did.

This year, The Girl is in the same room for Grade 2 as she was for Grade 1, which I guess lends some continuity for her. But last year, she had two teachers who switched off days; Mrs. Samra had the first part of the week and Ms. Van Ouen had the latter. For grade 2, it’s all Mrs. Segers, plus a teachers aide who we also met, Donna.

In addition to regular class time, The Girl is a part of a smaller group within her class around the areas of reading and writing. It’s actually a great thing, since I think she loves having a bit more one on one time in that particular area, which is really what she’s used to at home.

But, one of the many things that impressed me about Mrs. Segers is that she seems to have a good handle on our daughter, personality-wise, and learning style-wise, too. She clearly has put in a lot of effort to figure out the finer points of how our child learns. It’s understood that every brain’s different.

Source: behance.net via Annabel on Pinterest

This is a very big deal, when you consider that teachers in the era in which I’m writing this have been through the wringer when it comes to support; big classrooms, long hours spent before class and after, and with not a great pay-scale for their work province wide. The disputes between teachers and our provincial government earlier this year, and the public outcry about how greedy and selfish they are to go on strike was a shocking display of how little we value educators in our society. In a year when NHL players have gone on strike  because they aren’t, apparently, being paid enough, and with no backlash saying how much they’re “hurting the kids by going on strike”, this is a particularly striking truth.

But, I digress.

The main thing is that Mrs. Segers does great work, acknowledging that even if The Girl isn’t much for sitting down and writing long narratives, she is still able to create them verbally. This is enough to make it understood that the Girl knows how to do it, and that she is not behind in gaining this important skill.

It’s been agreed that as soon as she gains enough confidence, the writing aspects will definitely evolve with it. Thinking back to my own early primary school career, and being told how badly I am at math (The Girl is a whiz in that area, which she gets from her Mum, no doubt …), that if I’d only been given the space to figure out that all I needed was confidence, and to be encouraged, maybe I wouldn’t balk so much at numbers even today (to be fair, I also had a teacher’s aide to help me – Mrs. Horkoff. Wherever you are, thank you …)

In any case, we were very encouraged that everyone seems to be on the same page where the Girl’s path to success is concerned. It seems to me that teachers and students is something of an unstable formula. We have great inspirational teachers, and we have ones who just don’t get us. And the results often bear it out. We’re in very good shape this year, it seems.

One thing we’ve resolved to do is to be involved as much as possible, to be encouraging to our daughter, and be grateful for the work that her teachers do to help our daughter along in her school career. The Girl’s progress is important, and it’s important that she hit the right targets as far as picking up the concepts she needs to pick up. But, there’s more to it than that.

She’s a pleaser, like her father. And she likes that sense of making someone else happy by achieving what she’s told she needs to achieve. But, what I’d like to communicate to her is that her education, her work, no matter if it’s grade 2 or her PHD, belongs to her. It represents a key avenue to her personal freedom, her own sense of fulfillment. It represents a fuller understanding of the world, and by extension is a key tool to self-discovery, self-expression, and an insight into the experiences of others, too. That’s what education is for.

The A’s and B’s, and even the jobs that come out of it, are just the frosting.

The Girl’s Birthday, 2012 : A Blast From the Past

The Girl turned 7 this September.

Her birthdays are important to me, because it shows me the passage of time in very sharp relief. And it makes me think about the kind of person she’s becoming.

Anyway, in rooting around in my files, I found this dedication letter I wrote when the Girl had just been born, to be recited at her dedication ceremony which we held at our house when the Girl’s mum and I were still together. I don’t think I’ve published it here, so I’m doing so today. Here it is:

***

The Girl, aged 3 (almost 4), 2009

I remember the morning [The Girl's Mum] told me she was pretty sure she was pregnant very clearly, because I remember not feeling the way I thought I would feel – that is, terrified. To be fair, we had been talking a lot about and, frankly, been involved in the groundwork, of starting a family. But up until that point it really had been reduced to a sort of abstract, like some kind of theory that had yet to be proven. The moment [The Girl's Mum] told me that she was pretty sure she was pregnant was a joyful one, yes. But it was surprising too in that I knew, and I think [The Girl's Mum] knew too, that we were ready for it. It was this sense of knowledge, of surety, that was surprising, because there was no fear, no trepidation, other than the possibility that [we] had got it wrong, and she in fact wasn’t pregnant after all.

Parenthood and ‘being ready’

Perhaps I should explain what I mean by “ready for it” although at the time if you’d asked me to explain, I would certainly have been at a loss to accommodate you. What we were ready for was Parenthood (that’s with a big capital P). Parenthood, as I have certainly discovered in these past few weeks, is the ultimate in practice as opposed to theory. It has to do with bare bones, no nonsense, action and I am sure that this will be the day-to-day nature of it from now on. But in those earliest moments, as far removed as I was from early morning feedings, dirty diapers, and tearful episodes of unknown origin, I knew that this possibility, this new element introduced into our lives, not only had to do with the birth and growth of a new person, but of our own rebirth and subsequent growth as individuals and as life partners. We would stop being partners only; we would become parents.

Clarity of Purpose

Since those early days (listen to me, the seasoned father!), I have experienced a certain clarity of purpose in the face of circumstances that would have been sure, 5 years ago say, to have filled me with overwhelming terror. Taking care of an enfant? Being one of two people directly responsible for the upbringing of a healthy, fully functioning person? Me? But, something has been in place to curtail these feelings of fear and doubt. It must be said that much of this sense of confidence stems from [The Girl's Mum], since she has been possessed of the kind of certainty and strength as a person and as a mother which would rightly leave anyone feeling that all is unfolding as it should.

Maybe this “something” has to do with what my own parents instilled in me. Perhaps it has to do with part of myself being unlocked as a part of some mysterious biological process that comes with being a dad. I think it more likely that it has to do with being connected to something greater than simple biology, though. It may have to do with how much I love [my daughter], and how I fell in love with her before she was even born. That is big. It’s bigger than doubt. It’s bigger than fear. It is important because, unlike the aforementioned negative forces which are often in place, in the best moments this love I experience leads to a place of clarity where parenthood is concerned. I know what I have to do.

Don’t Miss The Person Behind The Needs

I think it would be easy to think of [The Girl], as young as she is, as a new addition to our lives, without acknowledging her as a unique personality. It is easy to make this oversight just because she has no means to immediately express herself, with no voice other than the very loud one she uses when she is hungry, or tired, or needs a change. At this stage in the proceedings, it is easy to miss the person behind the needs. And sometimes, I do. But looking at her as a person, as an individual, even at this early stage, is leading me closer to the realization that parenthood is not a reactionary effort. I am noticing [The Girl] discovering the world. I am seeing her curiosity, her need to explore, her love of the simple actions on our part that bring comfort to her. I am seeing her growing. This is meaningful.It has purpose beyond simple care-giving and day-to-day routine, as important as those things are right now. It leads somewhere.

Parenthood: Little Births

Where parenthood leads to then, what the purpose of it is I suspect, is not much different than it was when I helped [The Girl's Mum] bring [our daughter] into the world. Parenthood is still about birth, or rather little births in succession, each one leading closer to a destination that has something to do with identity. It seems to me that parenthood is about helping someone become themselves, from infancy to early adulthood, and perhaps beyond. When I think about this, I cannot help but feel excited, and to feel, in these moments, that it is easy to be strong. Knowing what I know about [The Girl] today, and loving her all the more, the opportunity to play a part in helping her to become who she is, to help her to get closer and closer to her true essence as an individual, is enormously meaningful.

So, this idea leads me to the question: why have this gathering, apart from the enjoyment food, family, friends and frilly bits? I suppose one reason is to introduce, formally, this new version of our family, of your family, of this family plus one. [The Girl's] presence means that we are living in a new era, and if some of us are more, or less, affected by [her] presence, the fact remains that the nature of our connections have changed, and have changed for the better. This is cause for celebration. Another aspect is linked to what I was talking about before.

Connection, Identity, Growth, Celebration

The mandate of helping [The Girl] grow into the person she is not only the path where parenthood leads [The Girl's parents], but I believe that the same goals are common to anyone serious about loving her, in whatever capacity. As such, this excitement I feel at being allowed to play a part in [my daughter's] life belongs to all of you too. You will play a part, however large or small, in helping her to move closer toward her sense of self, in helping her to recognize her own value. I imagine that this will not always be easy. But I think this is what family and friends are for in general; being involved in each other’s births and re-births in whatever form they may take, whether it’s in good circumstances or bad. I think this is worth a celebration too. I know that [The Girl] can count on all of you to be there for her, surely as [her parents] have experienced your support through out our lives, and even more recently during the dawning of this new era, when all kinds of adjustments have had to have been made.

So this gathering is about a celebration of our connections to each other, now strengthened by the presence of a new person. What could be more worthy of a celebration than that?

Thank you.

***

Happy Birthday, my lovely Girl.

The Girl and the Late Summer Holiday

I had two weeks with the Girl this year once again, as her daycare provider took holidays too. The time was something of a “staycation” as I mentioned earlier. This meant picnics to local parks, bike camp (for the first week), the petting zoo at Queen’s Park (so grateful for that being there), a trip to Deer Lake Park, (where you can rent paddle boats!), and beginning our foray into chapter book reading at storytime – C.S Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew.

I think the highlight was certainly the boating – a lot of fun! The Girl and I took turns steering, exploring Deer Lake; investigating the lilypads, following the Canada geese’s routes, dangling fingers in the cold, murky water. Meanwhile, it was pretty good excrcise for me, with the boat powered at some points entirely by Dad-power.

After our voyage on the lake. As it turned out, there were no giant octupi to contend with, as her dad may have suggested to her earlier.

Later in the day, she and I decided that instead of going to her Thursday karate class, we’d see a movie at the theatre instead. We decided to check out The Odd Life of Timothy Green, just a titch ahead of her in terms of narrative, and some content. But, she had questions that I think I was able to answer for her. The story is about a weird kid with a good heart, with that good heart overcoming his inability to conform to the modern idea of what a successful kid (or parent!) is. On the strength of that, it was worthwhile. On the way home, we talked a bit about what a good heart means, that it’s about being able to understand and respect the feelings and perspectives of others, and treat those people accordingly within your means.

It’s the single most important thing anyone can achieve in life.

One of the many tensions in being a parent, it seems to me, is to cherish the small moments, to capture them for posterity in the treasurehouse of our memories, and to understand that we are in river of time, that the sons and daughters we know today are in the process of moving on – and rightly so. Sometimes when I hold my Girl in my arms, or kiss her goodnight, I have the impulse to try to hold her as she is somehow, forever. I think it’s a human impulse to hang on to things we love which can’t really be hung onto.

But, the irony is that my goal works against that impulse, even if sometimes my feelings don’t. If I do my part correctly, I will be a key influence in transforming this sweet, six-year old Girl into a well-adjusted modern citizen who is driven by the moral principles of understanding, and empathy, helping her to be a confident, strong, informed, compassionate woman, with a keen sense of justice, balanced against an appreciation for the absurd to help her weather this increasingly absurd and unjust world. Yet, I know that I will miss this little Girl, with so many questions, so much trust, and with so few reservations about sharing her affection in a totally unselfconscious way; crawling into my lap when she’s tired, wrapping her hand around my neck and hanging onto my ear.

But today, Summer holidays are over. And Grade 2 is begun!

The Girl Is Butterfly Girl

Evildoers beware!