Love Will Keep Us Together

I was kind of on a roll there for a while with the posting, but now it's been a few days. I think I've been a little blue that my comments have slowed down this summer, despite having nobly claimed that I don't do this for the comments.

Jarrah seems to be over her wog, and I got to witness her new swimming skills firsthand on Saturday when we went to the Tierrasanta pool with Steph and Nathan. Gone is the toddler who clung to my neck like a starfish; now she's all about barking instructions about where I'm to stand and how to place my arms to facilitate various demonstrations. I wouldn't say she's dog paddling exactly, but she is certainly willing to have water go over her head now.

Most of our apres-camp conversation revolves around "the game of Star Wars," the rules of which are hard to follow but involve her hair "getting messed up but just pretend." They also use "those long sticks with the ends that glow up but just pretend."

"Light sabers?"

"Yes. Light savers."

"Actually, it has a B. Buh. B. Light sabers."

"Light savers."

"Um...right."

Her counselor, Nicole, also told me she's been holding hands with a new boy, so I asked her about it. "I just had to hold hands with him because he was so nice." Makes sense to me.

I taught my last preschool dance class of the summer on Monday, and overall, I think the whole experiment went pretty well. I never really did capture the heart of my one little resister, apparently. As I was saying goodbye to them, I said "I'll miss you guys! I hope you had fun this summer."

"I didn't have fun," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm glad it's over, though." That made me laugh. One thing about four-year-olds--they don't make you wonder where you stand with them. If only it had been a class about books. I had all five of them saucer-eyed during my dramatic readings.

Sunday night we had my theater group over for a karaoke BBQ. I am a karaoke fiend and had really been looking forward to a crowd who would not demur when offered a microphone. And they were into it, though the Big Group Sings were the best, no microphones required. The evening was a good exercise in flexibility for me (I struggle with the F word) since a bunch of people who said they were coming, didn't, and some who I didn't even invite, did. But it all worked out.

There was an especially awesome moment when a bunch of us were playing keep-away with a beach ball (or two?) in our non-furnished living room, and I was moved by how sweetly the youngest members of our group Eva, Lisa and Calvin treated Jarrah, who was practically non-verbal with glee from their attention. Part of me (the narcissistic part) wants to see their kindness as an extension of their regard for me, but I'm guessing the real reason is that some people genuinely like kids and have fun playing with them. Since hanging around kids was the furthest thing from my mind at their age, I sort of marvel at the ability to enjoy the company of a child whom one is not raising. I certainly had no idea how it was done when I was 20. I hated babysitting, and always felt like children were speaking some other language that I hadn't learned yet, or had forgotten. Anyway, I had the surreal experience of laughing and playing while feeling sort of choked up at the same time. I won't forget it.