Happy Trails

Today, we visited the local horse riding academy.  Sis has been going to Girl Scout camp with a horseback riding academy for three years; now, she's taking weekly lessons.  We arrived at the barn and she knew all of the horses by name, both of the dogs, and some of the staff.  She glowed from ear to ear, so excited--more so after she donned her new boots and riding pants!  She's going to love taking lessons.  We're so proud of her--first, ice skating, now horseback riding.  This weekend, sailing lessons (with Mama); next week, rock climbing camp!  Sis tries many new things and pushes her limits--she's just so amazing.

Crocheting Kiddos

I have tried a few times to teach Sis how to crochet, to no avail.  I'll admit that I'm not much of a teacher; I find it hard to break skills into steps and to explain them verbally.  And Sis is left handed, while I am right.  I tried to reverse the steps for her the last few times, which didn't work for either of us.  Recently, I read somewhere that lefties have to not only crochet left-handed but then reverse patterns; ugh, too much.  Some felt it was better to just learn right handed, just as Sis has to play the violin right handed (there just aren't left-handed violinists.)

So today, we started again, with her agreement to give it a try right handed.  A metal hook, some neon pink Red Heart yarn, and lots of slowness and patience.  I also pulled up the intro videos of my Woodland Amigurumi class on Craftsy by Stacey Trock, which slowly and concisely introduce chain stitching and single crocheting.  Sis worked at it carefully and persistently . . . and soon she had a row or two, a foundation chain and single crochet, with a chain-2 turn. My word, she was crocheting!   She plans on making it a scarf for her stuffed animal, the river otter Skipper (named after Redwall.)

Midday, having watched us for awhile, Bud decided he must learn how to crochet, too.  He plans on making a scarf for Mr. Big, his giant penguin.  And so, Sis sat him down and started him on slip knots and chains.  Soon I was showing him the Craftsy video and demonstrating single crochet.  And he too had rows and rows of very straight stitches.  They both crocheted through half the afternoon!  Much better than I did for my first few weeks.

I never dreamed I'd manage to teach Sis to stitch, or that Bud would want to crochet, too (he usually doesn't want to do what Sis and I do together.)  There is something very touching about passing down a treasured skill/hobby to your kids.  Sis and I had baking; Bud and I tried juggling.  Mama has drawn with them both.  And I think we've passed on our  love of cats, musicals, reading, and travel.  But a skill is more concrete.  It's a little bit of the future right here and now, though that doesn't quite explain it; a touch of immortality, perhaps?  I hadn't realized that so clearly.

Or that they'd pick it up so fast.

Or that we'd all spend an afternoon, crocheting on the couch together.

Or that Bud would say, "I know you're looking at me with pride!" as I watched him stitch.  And I was.

Or that he would also cry out in frustration, "I'm surrounded by all the things I want to be able to make (e.g. afghans, mandalas, and scarves I've made) and know thad I can't!  It's so hard."

Or that they'd both plan going to the yarn store to choose their next yarns.

Or that they'd want to learn new stitches, increases and decreases, etc., so they can make amigurumi penguins and bunnies.

Or that as we called for dinner, they'd both say in unison, "Just one more row!"

All while I told them about my early crochet lessons with my friend Miss V, whose maid of honor I had been and who would later throw me a baby shower, and whose intricate and complicated beautiful pink and green/diamond with roses afghan we were all leaning against.  And how very hard I found crochet--loops too tight, stitches uneven, skipping stitches or doubling up accidentally--all while clutching my hook too tight and crying in frustration.  It took so long to really get the hang of it, but soon I was making very simple afghans, then more complicated ones, and now mandalas and such.  Rome wasn't built in a day, practice makes perfect.  All of it, I said to encourage the kids.  Besides, I've been crocheting longer than they've been alive.  And they are off to a better start than I ever had.

It's a wonderful beginning.

The Art of the Draw

We went to an art demo and book signing by Jan Brett this morning . . . at the IKEA, of all places (I guess it was the Scandinavian tie-in.)  Organized by RJ Julia Bookstore to benefit Read to Grow, the event was well-organized and fun.  There was a huge Hedgie character walking around, two Santa Lucia maids, books for sale--and even her painted rock-star travel bus outside that we posed in front of!  

Brett herself spoke and drew for upwards of 45 minutes, encouraging all of the children there to embrace their individual creativity, as unique as their own fingerprints.  And she gave a lesson on how to draw a bunny--basketball body, egg-shaped head, almond eyes, not a cotton tail, shading the edges, using prismacolor markers for blending; she takes an hour an inch, I think she said, and finds inspiration all over the place.  The resulting work is that bunny above.  Sis was ecstatic, especially when Brett brought out her own "bun-bun" and showed the audience.  

We waited awhile, in orderly and calm fashion, to have our copy of The Animal's Santa signed.  It went faster because we ran into our friend Miss M who works for Read to Grow.  She used to play with the kids when they were very little--puppet shows and fairy houses at the beach, baking cookies at her house; we've even been to a concert or two of her band.  We don't see her as often anymore--we changed churches and she's had a long run-in with cancer--so it was especially good to chat today.

And eventually it was our turn.  Sis very happily chatted with Brett about wanting a bunny.  Brett told her she had wanted a horse when she was young and finally got one when she grew up.  They posed for a picture and then we were off. . . . to buy foodstuffs in the IKEA marketplace

A delightful, inspiring morning.

Ice, Ice Baby

After Sis had so much fun at an ice-skating birthday party, we offered her the opportunity to take real lessons. She already takes gymnastics, but only once a week; this would give her another sport--and she's so strong (and the fastest runner in her class) that she'll probably be really good at skating.  At least it is fun and different (very different from me; lest I forget that the Northeast is a different culture from the Texas one I grew up in, I just need to look at ice skating and hockey and horseback riding/equestrian not rodeo to remember that it's not just the accents and foods that are different.)  We signed her up this morning and she'll start next week.  She'll get her skates from the rink, rental, and will wear a coat, bicycle helmet, and mittens for warmth and protection.  She's very excited.  Last night she even dressed up her doll Felicity in her ice skates and outfit.  And then, of course, there will be the Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia, with lots of ice skating.

Making Mistakes

We've had our first Rainbow Loom crisis.  First, there were troubles getting some of the loops off the pegs without popping them off.  Then, even when we thought it was all okay, one of the fancy Starburst bracelets must have been incompletely looped because it came off the loom and fell apart.  Oh, the tears over these looms.

But I know that mistakes and failure lead to learning and so I try to be calm and help them fix it.  We talked about practice and mistakes being part of learning a skill and how doing things at the end of the day or in a rush can lead to mistakes.  Sis, who cried last night over the loom and actually ripped an unfinished bracelet off it in despair, woke up early and started all over.  "I was too sleepy last night," she admitted.  It's not always that easy.

And then there's the math homework.  The worksheet last night confused Bud and then we found a mistake in it.  But he couldn't quite believe the worksheet would have an error and there was some anxiety.  And then there was a math worksheet a week ago--the question asked for factors, which I always think of as numerals, so when Bud became confused by the question (which was confusing, to both Mama and me--and I had college calculus!), I tried to help and we came up with what we thought was the best answer together.  But the teachers corrected the answer with an equation or "multiplication sentence."  And I wrote and she said we were right.

So, as much as I know that mistakes are a great teachable moment, sometimes I want to be right.  Which is not a great lesson.

The Sound of Music

As if third grade and a new school weren't enough of a new adventure, added to that separate bedrooms and separate classes, Sis and Bud have decided to take up string instruments as part of their school's extracurricular music program.  She wants to play the violin; he wants to play the cello.  Mama is excited and inspired to play her own violin.  I'm just glad they aren't planning to play the same instrument.  But I do have visions of our own little string trio, them and Mama. And some worries about the practice sounds of non-silence, though I've been assured that it gets better fast.  It also means that they have to practice piano and their stringed instruments (they don't want to give up piano.)  And also the recorder flutes they play in regular music class.  At least they're motivated and excited.  And I did always want them to play an instrument.  I just didn't envision three!