Those species that eat their young?
That must happen when the offspring turn three.
I think they may be on to something.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Princess Camp
Princess Camp. C'mon, doesn't the name make you smile just a little? Either genuinely or sardonically?
Today was the last day of Ainslie's week-long Princess Camp at the local dance studio. For an hour each morning this week, ten or so little girls twirled, dressed up, waved their wands, curtsied, made a craft, listened to a story and danced their little princess-loving hearts out.
This was our first drop-off-and-come-back-in-an-hour activity. This was the first time I've signed her up for something and then not been there to see what she was doing, so I only know what Ainslie told me. The first day they all got a princess name (hers was Gabriella, but they seemed to have dropped them after that first day.) They learned to curtsy "at a ball" and that was worth the price--the curtsy is priceless. She already knew the ballet/reverance curtsy, but this was a funny little bend-the-knee-and-bow number that makes me giggle each time she does it. They danced in a circle. They dressed up in costumes. There was a Hannah, a Lily, and a Rachel. That's about all I was told.
On Day 2, I peeked in as I left to make sure Ainslie was ok and not scared or lonely or anything. She was already telling the teacher something very important. She was fine.
On Day 3 when I picked her up, I was told Ainslie was cracking the staff up. That's all I know.
So today, finally, parents were allowed to watch for the last few minutes. Jasmine and Aurora had paid a special visit to dance with the princesses in training. Now, I still have mixed feelings on the whole princess thing, but tears sprang to my eyes watching these little girls absolutely suspending any disbelief over whether these teenage dance students in a prom gown and old recital costume WERE the real Aurora and Jasmine. Ainslie waved her wand, she twirled, she sang along, and when both songs (A Whole New World and Once Upon a Dream, of course)were over she rushed up with the other little girls to hug her heroines.
There was something so raw and poignant about watching her. I wish I had more moments of pure, unbridled in-the-moment-ness like that. Today, that's the lesson I've learned from my child. Let go sometimes. Don't hunt for errors. Take things at face value sometimes. And curtsy.
Today was the last day of Ainslie's week-long Princess Camp at the local dance studio. For an hour each morning this week, ten or so little girls twirled, dressed up, waved their wands, curtsied, made a craft, listened to a story and danced their little princess-loving hearts out.
This was our first drop-off-and-come-back-in-an-hour activity. This was the first time I've signed her up for something and then not been there to see what she was doing, so I only know what Ainslie told me. The first day they all got a princess name (hers was Gabriella, but they seemed to have dropped them after that first day.) They learned to curtsy "at a ball" and that was worth the price--the curtsy is priceless. She already knew the ballet/reverance curtsy, but this was a funny little bend-the-knee-and-bow number that makes me giggle each time she does it. They danced in a circle. They dressed up in costumes. There was a Hannah, a Lily, and a Rachel. That's about all I was told.
On Day 2, I peeked in as I left to make sure Ainslie was ok and not scared or lonely or anything. She was already telling the teacher something very important. She was fine.
On Day 3 when I picked her up, I was told Ainslie was cracking the staff up. That's all I know.
So today, finally, parents were allowed to watch for the last few minutes. Jasmine and Aurora had paid a special visit to dance with the princesses in training. Now, I still have mixed feelings on the whole princess thing, but tears sprang to my eyes watching these little girls absolutely suspending any disbelief over whether these teenage dance students in a prom gown and old recital costume WERE the real Aurora and Jasmine. Ainslie waved her wand, she twirled, she sang along, and when both songs (A Whole New World and Once Upon a Dream, of course)were over she rushed up with the other little girls to hug her heroines.
There was something so raw and poignant about watching her. I wish I had more moments of pure, unbridled in-the-moment-ness like that. Today, that's the lesson I've learned from my child. Let go sometimes. Don't hunt for errors. Take things at face value sometimes. And curtsy.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Got Your Jar Ready?
You may think I'm exagerrating if I say I live at the edge of town, next to a corn field, but it's true. I'm sure someday our subdivision will be further developed, but for now, I really enjoy having the fields around. It's very peaceful, the stars are bright at night, and now that it's summer, there is a new delight. Fireflies, or Lightning Bugs, as we grew up calling them, are everywhere!
Now, the cornfield to the west of us gives way to a soybean field about half a block down, and I saw something Monday night that I hadn't seen since childhood, visiting my grandparents. Hovering, as far as the eye can see (which, due to the treelessness of central Illinois is pretty far) were thousands of firefly lights. It was breathtaking. Ainslie was enthralled, and frankly, so was I. We all three just stood there and watched.
Yesterday, Ainslie was full of the promise of a "firebug" hunt, and she was at the ready, with a jar fashioned by Daddy and stuffed full of clover and grass. We managed to get enough of them to make quite a little lantern, and we 'kept' three of them, named Jaxey, Maxey, and Nanny. They are still alive, in case you wondered whether any lightning bugs were harmed...
We told her we'll go watch again tonight. Like most magical memories from childhood, Firefly Season passes all too quickly.
Now, the cornfield to the west of us gives way to a soybean field about half a block down, and I saw something Monday night that I hadn't seen since childhood, visiting my grandparents. Hovering, as far as the eye can see (which, due to the treelessness of central Illinois is pretty far) were thousands of firefly lights. It was breathtaking. Ainslie was enthralled, and frankly, so was I. We all three just stood there and watched.
Yesterday, Ainslie was full of the promise of a "firebug" hunt, and she was at the ready, with a jar fashioned by Daddy and stuffed full of clover and grass. We managed to get enough of them to make quite a little lantern, and we 'kept' three of them, named Jaxey, Maxey, and Nanny. They are still alive, in case you wondered whether any lightning bugs were harmed...
We told her we'll go watch again tonight. Like most magical memories from childhood, Firefly Season passes all too quickly.
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