Ok, so here is the deal, I am one hundred percent sure that my parents were well meaning when they found this horse camp. I am sure my mom researched it online, checked Megan's Law records for the thirty miles surrounding the ranch; I'll bet she called ahead and asked about food; and I am quite certain my parents neither slept the night before I left for camp nor could they sit still for a moment after they dropped me off. Look, don't tell them I said so, but they can both be a bit high maintenance.
So, horse camp.
To begin, it is a 45 minute drive one way to the middle of nowhere. The sign on the corner of the fence says, Sugar Ditch Stables, but I'll tell you it could have been called out in the middle of nowhere, dusty, dirty and kinda stinky-town. My parents dropped me off at 8:30 AM each morning for a week, and on Monday, I only knew two things: 1st - Elliot, my best friend from Pre K would be there and 2nd - I was going to ride a horse.
Well, what do you know? It is Friday night and on the way home I cried real tears: I want to go back to that dusty old stinky farm so bad it feels like I'll never want anything this bad again as long as I live. I made friends, and crafts, I felt alive and independent, I came home dirty every day wearing my shorts, tank-top and pink cowgirl boots all covered in head to toe horse dust.
We did chores and shoveled poop. We saw a chicken lay an egg (don't tell the chicken, but the ranchers said they were going to eat that egg). We all made sun catchers and bird houses. We ate together and we laughed together and we played together.
And...I met someone. Someone special. I was a little shy at first. I wasn't sure how this relationship would develop, but by Wednesday I woke up with one name on my mind; by Thursday night as I lay my head on my pillow, I could just see those big brown eyes staring back at me; and on Friday night, I cried real tears because I already miss my Suzy Q. I want a pony, not just any pony, I want my Suzy Q.
Sunday, October 1, 2017
I'd Rather Not Talk About It
I can be shy.
If you approach me without warning, if you make eye contact with the top of my head because I am staring straight down at the gap between my toes, if you think that because my dad once worked with you or my mom taught you or either of my parents know you from church, that I will respond when you speak to me: you are in for a surprise. I can lock it down. I once attended a 30 minute doctor's appointment, where I was the subject of study, and I never once spoke a word. Now, don't get me wrong, I started speaking in complete sentences at 13 months, I have got the words to articulate comprehension beyond my years. Unfortunately for you, I don't just give my words away to make anyone else feel good. After-all, I am in kindergarten, and while this spinning sphere technically revolves around the sun, I know it exists for the Daughter.
Last week, I was walking across some river rocks and I fell and I broke my arm.
There isn't that much more to tell. That single sentence pretty much sums up the facts and outside of facts, I'm not totally sure what else is pertinent here. Does it hurt? You are the adult, you've experienced, known someone who has experienced, or read up on the subject of this. You know the answer. Did I pick out the color of my cast? No, when my dad was my age and broke his arm they only had one color: plaster. Now, with the advancement of technology, they can make any color, but due to the current nature of political correctness they have to spin a wheel to determine what color you get; I was nearly stuck with paisley, but was relieved when I scored this hot pink number. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I'm not a fan of small talk, talking to strangers, or sharing personal information just because I am being asked, and apparently being a six year old girl with a hot pink cast is a magnet for all three.
The point here is, I'd rather not talk about it. A week ago I had no cast, I was just a 6 year old girl who could avoid eye contact, to which, most people naturally accepted as a sign that conversation was neither desired nor necessary. A first attempt at any of the above mentioned activity could be dissuaded by staring at my feet and zipping my lip, because, to be honest, most adults would give up on the sheer basis of lack of common grounds. Unfortunately, I now seem to have a big sign hanging around my neck saying, "Hey, check me out, I think you and I may have some common ground here, let's chat: do you have a daughter or a neighbor about my age who has also undergone a similar trauma to the one you assume I am experiencing? Do you have a life story that you could share with me that may ease the burden you assume I am carrying? Do you have any personally probing questions I could answer for you about my dexterity, whether or not my pain registry is normed with yours, or might you have a jocular and far fetched situation you'd like to suggest in an attempt to explain my current situation? Step right up, don't take the lack of eye contact, the tight lipped silence or the hiding behind my dad's leg as a sign that you are making me uncomfortable, you just keep on asking until you get what you need." I did mention that it is a big sign.
So, I broke my arm, it hurt for a bit and the cast is uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as spending the next 4 weeks with a grown up magnet dangling in a sling!
If you approach me without warning, if you make eye contact with the top of my head because I am staring straight down at the gap between my toes, if you think that because my dad once worked with you or my mom taught you or either of my parents know you from church, that I will respond when you speak to me: you are in for a surprise. I can lock it down. I once attended a 30 minute doctor's appointment, where I was the subject of study, and I never once spoke a word. Now, don't get me wrong, I started speaking in complete sentences at 13 months, I have got the words to articulate comprehension beyond my years. Unfortunately for you, I don't just give my words away to make anyone else feel good. After-all, I am in kindergarten, and while this spinning sphere technically revolves around the sun, I know it exists for the Daughter.
Last week, I was walking across some river rocks and I fell and I broke my arm.
There isn't that much more to tell. That single sentence pretty much sums up the facts and outside of facts, I'm not totally sure what else is pertinent here. Does it hurt? You are the adult, you've experienced, known someone who has experienced, or read up on the subject of this. You know the answer. Did I pick out the color of my cast? No, when my dad was my age and broke his arm they only had one color: plaster. Now, with the advancement of technology, they can make any color, but due to the current nature of political correctness they have to spin a wheel to determine what color you get; I was nearly stuck with paisley, but was relieved when I scored this hot pink number. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I'm not a fan of small talk, talking to strangers, or sharing personal information just because I am being asked, and apparently being a six year old girl with a hot pink cast is a magnet for all three.
The point here is, I'd rather not talk about it. A week ago I had no cast, I was just a 6 year old girl who could avoid eye contact, to which, most people naturally accepted as a sign that conversation was neither desired nor necessary. A first attempt at any of the above mentioned activity could be dissuaded by staring at my feet and zipping my lip, because, to be honest, most adults would give up on the sheer basis of lack of common grounds. Unfortunately, I now seem to have a big sign hanging around my neck saying, "Hey, check me out, I think you and I may have some common ground here, let's chat: do you have a daughter or a neighbor about my age who has also undergone a similar trauma to the one you assume I am experiencing? Do you have a life story that you could share with me that may ease the burden you assume I am carrying? Do you have any personally probing questions I could answer for you about my dexterity, whether or not my pain registry is normed with yours, or might you have a jocular and far fetched situation you'd like to suggest in an attempt to explain my current situation? Step right up, don't take the lack of eye contact, the tight lipped silence or the hiding behind my dad's leg as a sign that you are making me uncomfortable, you just keep on asking until you get what you need." I did mention that it is a big sign.
So, I broke my arm, it hurt for a bit and the cast is uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as spending the next 4 weeks with a grown up magnet dangling in a sling!
Sunday, August 13, 2017
T Minus 3
I'm a mathematician. I'm five. That's a number. I can count past 100, another number. I can add, subtract and I think about things in relationship to numbers. I know that my birthday is in the 9th month, I know there are five people in my family and I know that I start kindergarten in three days.
My parents are building me a school. It cost 30 million dollars (big number) and even though it is funded by the entire community, I know that the whole project really revolves around me. I like to run and jump and play - the school has a field, a track and a playground - this is no coincidence. Every classroom has a 70" TV, I love TV. Finally, the entire school is built next to a huge park...come on, it is so obvious.
I think people trust that my parents are trying their best to do right by the entire community by building a school that supports almost 1000 kids, but I know...
Just today, my mom was talking to my dad, and she had read an article that said we need more STEM for students. She looked me right in the eye and said, our school is going to have STEM. My dad spent the last week broadcasting to the entire community that no kids were allowed on campus because it was an active construction site...then he snuck me in to see my classroom. I overheard him telling someone that construction had fallen behind, he was upset because the big kid playground was not going to be completed by the first day of school: we went by to check on things and we saw construction workers finishing he kindergarten playground on a Saturday!
The truth is, I have watched these two my entire life, they work hard, they give to lots of kids, but this year, I think they are both excited that one of the kids who will benefit from all their hard work will be me. It may be kind of awkward from time to time, but the truth is, who else gets to spend 180 days at work right down the hall from their kindergartener...yeah, my parents are pretty lucky.
My parents are building me a school. It cost 30 million dollars (big number) and even though it is funded by the entire community, I know that the whole project really revolves around me. I like to run and jump and play - the school has a field, a track and a playground - this is no coincidence. Every classroom has a 70" TV, I love TV. Finally, the entire school is built next to a huge park...come on, it is so obvious.
I think people trust that my parents are trying their best to do right by the entire community by building a school that supports almost 1000 kids, but I know...
Just today, my mom was talking to my dad, and she had read an article that said we need more STEM for students. She looked me right in the eye and said, our school is going to have STEM. My dad spent the last week broadcasting to the entire community that no kids were allowed on campus because it was an active construction site...then he snuck me in to see my classroom. I overheard him telling someone that construction had fallen behind, he was upset because the big kid playground was not going to be completed by the first day of school: we went by to check on things and we saw construction workers finishing he kindergarten playground on a Saturday!
The truth is, I have watched these two my entire life, they work hard, they give to lots of kids, but this year, I think they are both excited that one of the kids who will benefit from all their hard work will be me. It may be kind of awkward from time to time, but the truth is, who else gets to spend 180 days at work right down the hall from their kindergartener...yeah, my parents are pretty lucky.
Friday, June 30, 2017
They'll Never Know
My parents will never remember this, but there was a time, way back, when I wasn't so brave. Not brave like I am now. There was a time when I cried at the thought of my parents leaving the room, and at the possibility of riding on a pony. Not now, not anymore. That was the old me and this year it is out with the old and in with the ... look out world here I come.
I'm going to be in kindergarten next year. It is almost July, so I guess it it time to say, I'm going to kindergarten "this year." It is big deal. At my school, we had a promotion ceremony and all the parents filled the room, there must have been one hundred parents clicking pictures in Mrs. Mo's classroom that day. Each of us got up off the carpet when we heard our name called and we crossed the floor to recieve our diploma from Mrs. Spalding our principal. Each student had the oppertunity to say something that we had liked about PreK.
It is fun to be brave. Not everyone is brave. My friend Cam wouldn't walk accross the carpet and talk to Mrs. Spalding in front of everyone, but I did. I told her one thing I remember about school this year, and inside I just laughed and laughed. Mrs. Spalding has no idea. She thought that I was just sharing a simple memory, an experience that any 5 year old would be joyfilled to relate in front of a room full of clicking cameras. What Mrs. Spalding didn't know is that I had publicly shared an inside joke. There must have been 100 cameras clicking in that room, all capturing me as I eloquently relayed a memory that all the kids in the class could recall; but the click I heard loudest, above all the other camera shutters, was that side mouthed click my dad makes when he winks one eye in the sly way he does when he means to say, "That's my girl."
Every kid in my pre-K class will forever remember the day that the big inflatable caterpillar came to our school. It was there for the big kids who had learned to read The Hungry Hungry Caterpillar, but once they we done using it, Mrs. Mo said we could sneak out into the yard and crawl through it. This is the special memory I told Mrs. Spalding I would never forget from school. What she doesn't know is that the reason I wouldn't forget it is this: when my dad picked me up from school that day, he peppered me with the same barrage of questions he asks everyday, "How was your day," and "What did you do?" On this particular day, I had a story ready for him.
Daddy: How was your day Abby Jane?
Me: It wasn't a good day (and here I cleverly insert a pregnant pause to lure him into thinking I had a bad day) It was a brilliant day!
Daddy: A brilliant day? Great! What did you do?
Me: Daddy Eick, you are not going to believe what we did today? I crawled out of a catapillar's bottom!
Oh, man, that did it. He made a funny face, then I made a funny face, then I started laughing, then he started laughing. I eventually explained to him what I meant, but for a minute there, I think he believed that I had actually crawled out of a real caterpillar. Whew, my dad, they say there is a sucker born every minute!
So, that was the moment. I walked across that carpeted floor, in front of every parent in my classroom community, in front of all my peers, and without even missing a step, I slipped the greatest inside joke ever, A Caterpillar Bottom Joke, right past the principal of the school and nobody in the room knew about it but me and my gullible old dad. That will be one for the record books!
Bravery comes in all shapes and sizes. This year I learned to master the monkey bars both forward and backward. I danced on stage in a dance recital. I rode a pony...and on my graduation day, I slipped an inside joke into the script right under the principal's nose.
I'm going to be in kindergarten next year. It is almost July, so I guess it it time to say, I'm going to kindergarten "this year." It is big deal. At my school, we had a promotion ceremony and all the parents filled the room, there must have been one hundred parents clicking pictures in Mrs. Mo's classroom that day. Each of us got up off the carpet when we heard our name called and we crossed the floor to recieve our diploma from Mrs. Spalding our principal. Each student had the oppertunity to say something that we had liked about PreK.
It is fun to be brave. Not everyone is brave. My friend Cam wouldn't walk accross the carpet and talk to Mrs. Spalding in front of everyone, but I did. I told her one thing I remember about school this year, and inside I just laughed and laughed. Mrs. Spalding has no idea. She thought that I was just sharing a simple memory, an experience that any 5 year old would be joyfilled to relate in front of a room full of clicking cameras. What Mrs. Spalding didn't know is that I had publicly shared an inside joke. There must have been 100 cameras clicking in that room, all capturing me as I eloquently relayed a memory that all the kids in the class could recall; but the click I heard loudest, above all the other camera shutters, was that side mouthed click my dad makes when he winks one eye in the sly way he does when he means to say, "That's my girl."
Every kid in my pre-K class will forever remember the day that the big inflatable caterpillar came to our school. It was there for the big kids who had learned to read The Hungry Hungry Caterpillar, but once they we done using it, Mrs. Mo said we could sneak out into the yard and crawl through it. This is the special memory I told Mrs. Spalding I would never forget from school. What she doesn't know is that the reason I wouldn't forget it is this: when my dad picked me up from school that day, he peppered me with the same barrage of questions he asks everyday, "How was your day," and "What did you do?" On this particular day, I had a story ready for him.
Daddy: How was your day Abby Jane?
Me: It wasn't a good day (and here I cleverly insert a pregnant pause to lure him into thinking I had a bad day) It was a brilliant day!
Daddy: A brilliant day? Great! What did you do?
Me: Daddy Eick, you are not going to believe what we did today? I crawled out of a catapillar's bottom!
Oh, man, that did it. He made a funny face, then I made a funny face, then I started laughing, then he started laughing. I eventually explained to him what I meant, but for a minute there, I think he believed that I had actually crawled out of a real caterpillar. Whew, my dad, they say there is a sucker born every minute!
So, that was the moment. I walked across that carpeted floor, in front of every parent in my classroom community, in front of all my peers, and without even missing a step, I slipped the greatest inside joke ever, A Caterpillar Bottom Joke, right past the principal of the school and nobody in the room knew about it but me and my gullible old dad. That will be one for the record books!
Bravery comes in all shapes and sizes. This year I learned to master the monkey bars both forward and backward. I danced on stage in a dance recital. I rode a pony...and on my graduation day, I slipped an inside joke into the script right under the principal's nose.
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
It was like magic...
When you wake up before the sun it can really only mean one of two things. It could mean that the wind is blowing that tree just outside my window, and the branches are scratching just light enough to cause we to wonder what monsters are hiding in my closet. On the other hand, it could also mean that today is one of a number of official, I get a present, holidays.
Today was Valentine's day, and although that is not one of the big three gift getting holidays in a kid's life, it is big enough to wake up early for. I made sure my mommy and daddy were clear that I was expecting a present before I went to sleep last night. So, first thing this morning, mommy is head to toe soaking wet from the shower, and I am up and out of bed asking if we could go downstairs to look for a gift.
It was like magic, the whole day. My parents co-authored a hand made card, they are so cute when they work together. They placed my card next to some magical candy hearts, magical because they have little words on them, and I can actually read some of the words. Also, they got me a great big stuffed doggie with a pink bow. My mommy laughed and told me that this dog wouldn't eat my candy hearts the way my real dog Jenny had! Mommy is so funny...she really doesn't get enough credit for being silly...I love her. *elbow-pinch
The morning was great, but don't tell mommy and daddy, the real magic was at school. We all wore red shirts, which, let me just say, was kind of amazing, because usually we all wear blue shirts. Then, Mrs. Mo, had us each hand out our gifts to one another. I was so proud to hand mine out. Joseph said he was going to try on his valentine's glasses as soon as he got home. On the way home, I told my daddy, "Today wasn't a good day, it was Brilliant!" I got toys and cards and I made a crown.
It doesn't seem to always please my parents when I wake up before the sun, but on a day like today, I have to be honest, it was such magic, I wouldn't want to miss a moment of it sleeping.
Today was Valentine's day, and although that is not one of the big three gift getting holidays in a kid's life, it is big enough to wake up early for. I made sure my mommy and daddy were clear that I was expecting a present before I went to sleep last night. So, first thing this morning, mommy is head to toe soaking wet from the shower, and I am up and out of bed asking if we could go downstairs to look for a gift.
It was like magic, the whole day. My parents co-authored a hand made card, they are so cute when they work together. They placed my card next to some magical candy hearts, magical because they have little words on them, and I can actually read some of the words. Also, they got me a great big stuffed doggie with a pink bow. My mommy laughed and told me that this dog wouldn't eat my candy hearts the way my real dog Jenny had! Mommy is so funny...she really doesn't get enough credit for being silly...I love her. *elbow-pinch
The morning was great, but don't tell mommy and daddy, the real magic was at school. We all wore red shirts, which, let me just say, was kind of amazing, because usually we all wear blue shirts. Then, Mrs. Mo, had us each hand out our gifts to one another. I was so proud to hand mine out. Joseph said he was going to try on his valentine's glasses as soon as he got home. On the way home, I told my daddy, "Today wasn't a good day, it was Brilliant!" I got toys and cards and I made a crown.
It doesn't seem to always please my parents when I wake up before the sun, but on a day like today, I have to be honest, it was such magic, I wouldn't want to miss a moment of it sleeping.
Monday, February 13, 2017
We Don't Need a Day
Happy Valentine's Day Mommy.
It seems funny that we need a special day on the calendar to remind us of what we already know. Today is filled with red hearts on display, reminding us that we once shared one heartbeat. I know that is one of your favorite stories, daddy says that every time you talk about it, your eyes fill with tears, that day you first heard my heartbeat: I figure that you were crying because it was the first time you realized that I was developing my own heartbeat instead of sharing yours, but don't worry mommy, my heart will always be connected with yours.
Now that I am thinking about it, this life must be so hard for you, I mean, watching me grow up. To you I must seem like just a baby, but I am really so big now. I am five years old. I am reading everywhere I look, picking out letters and trying on sounds. I have memorized far more song lyrics than you probably even realize: I can more or less sing the entire Trolls Soundtrack. And, as hard as this will be for daddy to hear...I'm getting married. Please, let me break the news to daddy, but I have decided, Hudson is definitely the one, there is no use putting it off any longer, we will be married in kindergarten. I figure the marriage thing makes sense, because once you have mastered the monkey bars, and once you are able to dress yourself for church, what else is there to hold you back?
Ok, maybe the getting dressed thing needs some work. I get it, you asked me to put on an appropriate outfit for church last Sunday and I came downstairs in a bright yellow shirt with a printed logo proclaiming my love of the beach and sporting my favorite grey and pink yoga pants. In my defense, I have been memorizing some of the bible versus that they teach in Sunday school at the Crossing, and I am pretty sure God loves kids who express confidence and happiness...both of which come shining through when you couple a yellow t-shirt with pink yoga pants! So, I'll work on the getting dressed thing, but you must admit, I am starting to get bigger and I know that must be tough on you.
Sometimes, when we are driving in the car, I catch you staring at me in the rear view mirror, or taking my picture when I am wearing doing something just right. I know you are watching me grow up, but I can tell, as much as I grow, you still see me as your little baby, and I want you to know, that is ok with me: I will always be yours. I want you to know just one thing: you aren't only watching me - I'm watching you. It is because of you that I know what it will mean to be a woman. Some day, just like you, I will be somebody worth listening to, I will have strong opinions about those who lead and how they should lead. I know, because of you, that women have every opportunity that a man has and that I will be who I am because of who I am not because of anyone's opinion but mine. I know that princesses are kind and work hard and that although they serve, they belong to no one.. I know that I will one day grow up to be a woman like you.
Happy Valentine's Day Mommy - our hearts will always be in rhythm.
It seems funny that we need a special day on the calendar to remind us of what we already know. Today is filled with red hearts on display, reminding us that we once shared one heartbeat. I know that is one of your favorite stories, daddy says that every time you talk about it, your eyes fill with tears, that day you first heard my heartbeat: I figure that you were crying because it was the first time you realized that I was developing my own heartbeat instead of sharing yours, but don't worry mommy, my heart will always be connected with yours.
Now that I am thinking about it, this life must be so hard for you, I mean, watching me grow up. To you I must seem like just a baby, but I am really so big now. I am five years old. I am reading everywhere I look, picking out letters and trying on sounds. I have memorized far more song lyrics than you probably even realize: I can more or less sing the entire Trolls Soundtrack. And, as hard as this will be for daddy to hear...I'm getting married. Please, let me break the news to daddy, but I have decided, Hudson is definitely the one, there is no use putting it off any longer, we will be married in kindergarten. I figure the marriage thing makes sense, because once you have mastered the monkey bars, and once you are able to dress yourself for church, what else is there to hold you back?
Ok, maybe the getting dressed thing needs some work. I get it, you asked me to put on an appropriate outfit for church last Sunday and I came downstairs in a bright yellow shirt with a printed logo proclaiming my love of the beach and sporting my favorite grey and pink yoga pants. In my defense, I have been memorizing some of the bible versus that they teach in Sunday school at the Crossing, and I am pretty sure God loves kids who express confidence and happiness...both of which come shining through when you couple a yellow t-shirt with pink yoga pants! So, I'll work on the getting dressed thing, but you must admit, I am starting to get bigger and I know that must be tough on you.
Sometimes, when we are driving in the car, I catch you staring at me in the rear view mirror, or taking my picture when I am wearing doing something just right. I know you are watching me grow up, but I can tell, as much as I grow, you still see me as your little baby, and I want you to know, that is ok with me: I will always be yours. I want you to know just one thing: you aren't only watching me - I'm watching you. It is because of you that I know what it will mean to be a woman. Some day, just like you, I will be somebody worth listening to, I will have strong opinions about those who lead and how they should lead. I know, because of you, that women have every opportunity that a man has and that I will be who I am because of who I am not because of anyone's opinion but mine. I know that princesses are kind and work hard and that although they serve, they belong to no one.. I know that I will one day grow up to be a woman like you.
Happy Valentine's Day Mommy - our hearts will always be in rhythm.
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