...was a wonderful success.
This is the second time I've written this post. The first attempt was published on blogger and was then somehow eaten. Bear with me as I recollect my impressions from this morning.
Juliette was happy and eager this morning as we arrived, and she went into the classroom without any hesitation. I shrugged in appreciative bewilderment of her changed attitude and sat in the hallway with the other parents, reading and listening for signs of distress or cooperation.
When their teacher, Miss Christina, asked the kids to pretend they were holding a giant ball in front of their tummies (arms in first position), I heard Juliette pipe up that she would be holding a soccer ball. Good girl! Later, rather assertively, she said, "We look like hopping frogs." The tears of two weeks ago were nowhere to be found. I peaked in once and saw her galloping in a herd with the other girls, rather graceless but eager, intent and strangely obedient.
At one point, a little girl sneezed. She promptly ran into the hallway to ask her mother for a tissue, which she must have been trained to do after sneezing. Miss Christina tried to tell everyone to ask permission before leaving the classroom, but suddenly there were two more girls in the hallway asking their respective mothers for tissues. It was like the floodgates had opened and they wanted to use their opportunity to get a bit of mommy reassurance mid-way through class. I wonder if Juliette would have done the same thing had she known what a "tissue" is (we call them "wipes" because we use regular toilet paper).
After class, Juliette emerged in a rather dazed state, bewildered, I think, by the sudden cessation of activities. Playtime over - everybody out. But she was very happy with her smiley face sticker. Miss Christina said she hardly recognized Juliette because she was so changed from her first attempt. The meeting time has been extended to 35 minutes (from 30) for this class and the remainder of the session because of the missed meeting last week. Apparently a custodian overslept, which is why the building was locked.
Speaking of stickers, I must make sure to have more on hand for the homefront. This morning, while Juliette was donning her leotard, Ilsa was happy that she would get to "play stickers" with daddy. Every time we leave, she and Keven play with an activity book using stickers and markers. I am glad she found something to be excited about on Saturday mornings, rather than having reason to be upset with Juliette's adventures.
When class dismissed, I had a few errands to run. Instead of driving home to drop Juliette off, we went together. Juliette and I have not been alone for such an extended period of time, only about an hour and a half, since she was about fourteen months old. The experience was not exactly good. I found it unable to behave normally without Ilsa! When I drive, I usually listen to music, sing along, make mental notes, and occasionally mediate between the girls. They read books and talk to each other. Without Ilsa, we had no conversation. Halfway to the library, I noticed that Juliette and I had not said a word. I asked if she was fine. She was. And the silence continued.
I began to think about what a different person Juliette would be and how changed our relationship would be without Ilsa. We would not have been so quiet in the car, for certain, but the personal freedom I have to let my mind wander in the privacy of my front seat while we drive around town would be gone. Without Ilsa, my job would consist of - to a much greater extent - entertaining Juliette. Granted, I spend much of my time playing referee between them, but the advantages of their friendship and close ages are invaluable. I like that we have started to set aside weekly opportunities to let them discover their independence from each other - with Juliette's dance class and Ilsa's daddy-centric time at home - but I love the partnership they have, and Juliette and I would sorely miss the energy and enthusiasm Ilsa brings to our lives.
Another update next week...
This is the second time I've written this post. The first attempt was published on blogger and was then somehow eaten. Bear with me as I recollect my impressions from this morning.
Juliette was happy and eager this morning as we arrived, and she went into the classroom without any hesitation. I shrugged in appreciative bewilderment of her changed attitude and sat in the hallway with the other parents, reading and listening for signs of distress or cooperation. When their teacher, Miss Christina, asked the kids to pretend they were holding a giant ball in front of their tummies (arms in first position), I heard Juliette pipe up that she would be holding a soccer ball. Good girl! Later, rather assertively, she said, "We look like hopping frogs." The tears of two weeks ago were nowhere to be found. I peaked in once and saw her galloping in a herd with the other girls, rather graceless but eager, intent and strangely obedient.
At one point, a little girl sneezed. She promptly ran into the hallway to ask her mother for a tissue, which she must have been trained to do after sneezing. Miss Christina tried to tell everyone to ask permission before leaving the classroom, but suddenly there were two more girls in the hallway asking their respective mothers for tissues. It was like the floodgates had opened and they wanted to use their opportunity to get a bit of mommy reassurance mid-way through class. I wonder if Juliette would have done the same thing had she known what a "tissue" is (we call them "wipes" because we use regular toilet paper).
After class, Juliette emerged in a rather dazed state, bewildered, I think, by the sudden cessation of activities. Playtime over - everybody out. But she was very happy with her smiley face sticker. Miss Christina said she hardly recognized Juliette because she was so changed from her first attempt. The meeting time has been extended to 35 minutes (from 30) for this class and the remainder of the session because of the missed meeting last week. Apparently a custodian overslept, which is why the building was locked.
Speaking of stickers, I must make sure to have more on hand for the homefront. This morning, while Juliette was donning her leotard, Ilsa was happy that she would get to "play stickers" with daddy. Every time we leave, she and Keven play with an activity book using stickers and markers. I am glad she found something to be excited about on Saturday mornings, rather than having reason to be upset with Juliette's adventures.
When class dismissed, I had a few errands to run. Instead of driving home to drop Juliette off, we went together. Juliette and I have not been alone for such an extended period of time, only about an hour and a half, since she was about fourteen months old. The experience was not exactly good. I found it unable to behave normally without Ilsa! When I drive, I usually listen to music, sing along, make mental notes, and occasionally mediate between the girls. They read books and talk to each other. Without Ilsa, we had no conversation. Halfway to the library, I noticed that Juliette and I had not said a word. I asked if she was fine. She was. And the silence continued.
I began to think about what a different person Juliette would be and how changed our relationship would be without Ilsa. We would not have been so quiet in the car, for certain, but the personal freedom I have to let my mind wander in the privacy of my front seat while we drive around town would be gone. Without Ilsa, my job would consist of - to a much greater extent - entertaining Juliette. Granted, I spend much of my time playing referee between them, but the advantages of their friendship and close ages are invaluable. I like that we have started to set aside weekly opportunities to let them discover their independence from each other - with Juliette's dance class and Ilsa's daddy-centric time at home - but I love the partnership they have, and Juliette and I would sorely miss the energy and enthusiasm Ilsa brings to our lives.
Another update next week...
2 comments:
Brava, piccola Juliette!
I knew, I knew she just needed some time to shine.
Little star!
The "learning to dance" aspect of this experience is SO secondary to just getting her comfortable in a class setting, with new people and personal challenges for her. If she wants to dance, that will happen later. Right now, I'm just happy that she'll be enjoying her time jumping like a kangaroo. :)
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