Busy

We have been so busy lately, and of course, I have no pictures. I really need to try to improve on that front. Nevertheless, here are some of our doings.

On Friday I got up bright and early and took Daisy to the YMCA childwatch with Eli so Robyn and I could exercise. To my shock, I was told that Daisy had USED UP her childwatch spaces and I have to buy a new card. Can you imagine? I would not have thought it possible for me to run out of childwatch hours. My last foray into childwatch, when Daisy was a baby, ended in complete failure as I could not bear walking away from her when she was crying, and then when I returned, there was always something that depressed me. One time she had fallen asleep, which was horrifying because it was not a time of day she EVER napped and so I knew that unconsciousness had come along to rescue her from the existential pain of Mama's absence. So: that's right, I was too neurotic for childwatch. This time around it is MUCH BETTER.

After that I ran home and took a shower and packed our bags, and then we met Dena and Henry. We took two Presidio shuttles to get downtown, walked to the Ferry Building, had a lovely lunch, and then took the ferry to Larkspur--Daisy's first ferry ride, and Henry's too! The kids were cold (we sat on the deck) but Daisy enjoyed making up a story about pirates. We walked around Larkspur Landing for an hour--the kids enjoyed running over the footbridge and then they spent a large amount of time demonstrating exercises to us on a bicycle rack--and then we took the ferry home. We bought the kids gelatos at the Ferry Building and were very impressed by their choices: Henry chose pear and Daisy chose coconut gelato. Then two shuttles back to Dena's. Daisy was so tired that night I have never seen her fall asleep faster, and I was proud of her that she did the whole outing without a stroller.

Today we took Daisy to her ballet class and then afterward drove to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, where we met Craig, Beth, Cora, and Craig's sister Linda. I hadn't realized how extensive the boardwalk is, and Daisy did a ton of walking there, too. It was crowded and overwhelming, of course, but completely worth it to see Daisy's joy on the rides. We couldn't stay very long because Mark had a show that night (that's where he is right now), but Daisy got to go on six rides. She rode the helicopters twice (fun because you pull a bar to make your 'copter go up and down), then a boat ride with Cora, then a cave train that Craig and I went on with them, then two killer whale rides with Cora. She would have liked to stay and go on more rides, and there were plenty of rides for kids her age-- so we will have to go back. I had to bribe her into leaving with a cherry Icee, but the bribe was highly effective.

It is funny to watch Daisy's face on rides. Some kids look kind of terrified, and others have faces of pure glee, but Daisy's expression tends to look like intense concentration-- like she is getting something very profound out of the experience.

Daisy has grown sooooooo much this summer. I did many, many (MANY) activities with her even though I was in classes myself for almost all of the summer (pausing to take a humble bow). We did music class, swimming class, Jazzy Bugs class (where she did ballet, tap, and gymnastics), ballet, and two different summer camps--and I am probably forgetting something. Lest you think I was being a pushy mama, these were all classes she chose for herself and loved. The dancing and gymnastics classes have helped her to improve her motor skills immensely and we're hoping her teachers will see the difference when we return to school. She is so much more physically confident now, ending the summer, than she was when it began.

She's also being through some emotional and cognitive growth. She went through about a month of telling us every day, at least fifty times a day, that she had "a crying feeling." That phase seems over, although she still mentions it from time to time. She has also been asking unbelievably profound questions and saying mind-bendingly odd and deep things. As an example, she sometimes tells us that her "mind wants to do something," but her "self" doesn't or thinks otherwise. She presents this to us as a problem or conflict she is working on. I know it sounds like an odd distinction, but it strikes me as possibly the beginning of double consciousness or meta-cognition. Oh, and today on the drive back from Santa Cruz, she asked us to define "fatalism"! Mark gave her a definition and now she parrots it back when asked. It is pretty funny.

Her verbal skills have always been insanely advanced, but every now and then she manages to astound me, even knowing what I know about her. A couple days ago, for example, she sang the entire song "Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer" to me, word for word, with accompanying dance moves (and in a faux Cockney accent). Let me assure you that song is not easy, and I am certain she does not understand what large chunks of it mean ("they were plausible fellows who liked to engage a friendly policeman in conversation"?), but she pronounced almost every word correctly and precisely.

I really think she is a weird prodigy in certain areas, or at the very least has some savant-like tendencies. When I was her age, I could read and write (because my mother taught me, that hard-working woman), but Daisy is so much more...outward, and extroverted, than I was. She really puts out a startling volume of coherent and sophisticated speech. It can be easy to forget you are talking to a newly minted four-year-old when she informs you severely, "I really think you are misunderstanding me," in response to some injunction you've given her. She is also quite good at math and can do some pretty challenging addition and subtraction in her head (and today she counted to 100 in the car with almost no mistakes--pretty impressive). But at the same time, she struggles with motor tasks that would be laughably easy for a child a year younger and sometimes she seems lacking in common sense, as in her deplorable lack of both hiding and finding skills in hide and seek.

That's a bit of an update. I am so very grateful she is my daughter and is in my life. It makes me feel almost religious sometimes.

Things Daisy has said today

"What a great day for meeting Jesus and buying rainbow sweatshirts!" (as part of a crazy game of make-believe she made up)

"Let's go eat strawberry ice cream at the barber shop!" (As part of the same game)

"This pizza is hopeless! Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless!" (After taking one bite of the pizza she and Gommy made together earlier)

Daisy's game that warms the cockles of Mama's heart

Daisy invented a game recently that is ever so sweet and heart-warming to a Mama. It involves a little wooden sign that a friend gave us when she was first born--it says "World's Best Mama" and it has a little string by which it can hang from a door. I had it hanging on Daisy's door, and one morning when she got out of bed I heard her declaring that the sign was on the wrong door--really, it should be on my door. So she moved it.

Now, she loves to play a game where she re-enacts this fateful decision. The script is entirely of her making. She tells me to lie in bed and pretend I'm sleeping. Then I'm supposed to moan and groan about the fact that there is no sign on my door, while all the lucky mothers out there have "World's Best Mama" signs on THEIR doors. Then Daisy quickly bustles over to the door and I'm supposed to say things like, "Ooh, whatever could Daisy be doing?" Then she steps proudly back, and ta-da! My door has a "World's Best Mama" sign on it. Then she gives me a big hug.

She wanted to play this game 10,000 times today. Sometimes I get a bit frustrated with the repetition, but it's kind of hard to get too frustrated about this particular game.

PS
Another cute Daisy activity that has recently come up: putting her arms around my neck and "smushing" our faces together (that's what she calls it). I have been getting a lot of this lately. Come to think of it, she has also been having a hard time sharing me with others and telling me how much she loves me. I wonder if this is not merely heartwarming, but if she is going through some kind of phase? Could be, especially as school is about to start again soon.

I left my house after dark recently

I thought this occasion deserved a post. That's right, folks: you are not mistaken. I left my house at night, at practically TEN PM, and Daisy was not with me. I thought I was not going to make it--it was so very, very late for Mother Sarah. I was also nervous about being in a bar/club atmosphere again, as I was accompanying Mark to his Iron Maiden show, and it's been, maybe, years since I've been in a place like that. I used to go with Mark all the time, before we had a child, and I was pretty used to it. But it's been awhile and I've forgotten how to be in such a place. Wouldn't you know, though, I had a great time! Mark's Iron Maiden band, Ancient Mariner, is completely awesome. I loved them. I want to go again. I want to venture out after dark. I want to hear Mark's bands play again. Maybe I even want to hear bands that Mark is not in play. Not sure, but maybe.

Daisy was so surprised to see me all dressed up, wearing a dress and lipstick and earrings. She complimented me several times unbidden, saying, "Mama looks so pretty!" and saying she wants to dress up like Mama. So completely gratifying to hear that from my daughter!

When I was younger and I went with Mark to his shows, I sometimes had too much to drink as a way of coping with the discomfort of being in places where I wasn't entirely in my element. This time, of course, I didn't, and I realized I don't need a lot of drinks to survive. I also thought I needed earplugs, but I hadn't brought any (maybe a good idea for next time), and I was fine without them. I am glad some of Mark's friends came so I had people to sit with; that made it more comfortable, too.

Over the years I have come to appreciate a lot of the music that Mark likes and performs, and I especially like Iron Maiden and Judas Priest (I have to admit I like them more than KISS and Motley Crue, two of the other bands whose music he performs). I didn't know many of the songs before the show, but I think I know them now.

I realized I need to do this sort of thing more precisely because it felt so strange to be out on my own without Daisy. I think I have a bit forgotten how to be on my own without my constant shadow and appendage. Somehow, even when I'm at school attending my classes, I still feel attached to her-- maybe because a lot of what I'm learning at school applies to parenting. This was something completely different, something which calls on a side of my identity that has nothing whatsoever to do with being a mother. And it feels really alien now. But good. Yeah. I think I need more of it. And I think I can be in these places now in a healthy, non-insane way, even if insane things happen from time to time at them. Well, we'll see.

Boodat

I'm not sure if I may have posted about this already, but Daisy has invented two words: "slat" and "boodat." Actually, she has invented more words than that, but those two are the ones that have found their way into common usage in our family. I remember reading somewhere that it's actually very difficult to create words that become keepers--that stick. I mean, anyone can make up any word, but the chances are slim that it's going to stick in the right place and become a used word. Well, I've got to tell you folks: "boodat" is a keeper. I give Daisy a ton of credit for it. Mark and I use it ALL THE TIME. It's just so right. It means "bad," loosely speaking. So you can curse with it: "Boodat!" Or say, "Damn, that's boodat!" And it really feels GOOD to say it. "Slat" is the opposite of "boodat," so it means "good." It's not quite as satisfying to say, but it has stuck as well.

The story of how "boodat" came to be is a little embarrassing, but I'll tell it anyway. One day Daisy asked me, very gravely, "Is it okay to tell people that they smell bad?" I said no, it would probably not be a good idea. She then ventured, "Can I just tell you and Daddy that you smell bad?" She went on to explain that she thinks I smell like cheese and that Daddy smells like wood. I was not terribly hurt by this, especially since she has gone on to tell me that pretty much everyone she knows smells bad to her, and most of them smell like cheese. I made an agreement with her that she could tell me and Daddy this sort of thing, but she really should not tell anyone else that they smell bad.

She then ventured, "Gommy smells like boodat." I asked her what "boodat" meant. The answer, as you know, was baaaaaaad.