Showing posts with label Nieces. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nieces. Show all posts
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Elder Niece Grows Up
Our first little girl (of her generation anyway) is really and truly growing up. Elder Niece turned twelve a few weeks ago, and I can hardly pick my jaw up off the floor. She is tall, graceful, well-spoken, and self-possessed these days; a far cry from the little kid she was about five minutes ago. I can so clearly remember that solemn little face, and I am very glad to notice that she smiles much more than in earlier times. She might even be, dare I say it, a tolerable teen when the time comes. Happy birthday big girl!
Thursday, September 09, 2010
First Day of School
Yesterday was Elder Niece's first day of middle school! She was really, really nervous about going, but I have no doubt it will be a good transition. She is, of course, in the high performing program which is a great fit for her intelligence and her dedication (but I'm not biased!). Proof that she's in the right place? She took herself to the bookstore over the summer and bought a middle school prep book and a spelling book. She spent a portion of her summer studying up (not that she needed it) and it was all of her own free will. I wish she could be in my class!
Friday, September 03, 2010
Camping at Penrose Point
For the past five years, a sub-set of the family has used the last weekend of August for our traditional camping weekend. We love to pitch our tents in some beautiful site, build fires, cook our meals over the coals, and then sit around singing songs and trading puns and word play. It's a great chance to catch up with one another before the craziness of the school year hits. This year, everything seems to have changed, but we still didn't want to miss out on this chance.
This year, we had a few more challenges than before. Not only do we have a new baby to think about, but my broken tailbone is still bothering me too. Nevertheless, we remained undaunted, so off we set for Penrose State Park near Purdy. The car trip was a bit uncomfortable for me, but the baby did a fabulous job and did not cry even once. After about an hour and a half of driving, we crossed over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. This was very exciting for all of us (having never been) since we've seen the old video of "galloping Gertie" many times. Luckily she stayed safely aloft for our trip over.
A little more driving brought us to the park where the rest of the family was already waiting. It is a beautiful park set on the water with the camp sites back in the woods. Sites are close together, but if you went on a less popular weekend, the might not be an issue. For us, it turned out to be a bad thing because the 50-something lady in the campsite next to ours decided to stay up late drinking boxed wine and talking, talking, talking about anything and everything. We heard her opinion on dozens of topics, but we did not hear quiet until two or three in the morning.
It was also a bit anxious to camp with the baby because the temperature got down into the low 50s, and it was very tough to be sure that she was staying warm enough. At one point in the night I found that she'd poked her little hand out of the blankets, and it felt as cold as a popsicle. I kept waking up to check that she was warm enough all night long. It was not what you would call a restful night.
The next day we did get the chance to enjoy the dramatic scenery. The park is surrounded on two sides by water, so there are many impressive views. Rocky beaches and mud flats are also common, and the girls had a wonderful time cruising the edge of the mud flats looking for sand dollars and tiny fish. There were kayaking and fishing opportunities as well, but we never got that far.
As much as we enjoyed ourselves on Saturday, as it got closer to bedtime, I just couldn't face another night in the tent. Our noisy neighbor was still in residence next door, and the overnight temperatures were not supposed to be any warmer. Thus we admitted defeat. After a lovely campfire dinner, we headed for home. Next time maybe we'll last the whole weekend. Still, I'm very glad we went.
This year, we had a few more challenges than before. Not only do we have a new baby to think about, but my broken tailbone is still bothering me too. Nevertheless, we remained undaunted, so off we set for Penrose State Park near Purdy. The car trip was a bit uncomfortable for me, but the baby did a fabulous job and did not cry even once. After about an hour and a half of driving, we crossed over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. This was very exciting for all of us (having never been) since we've seen the old video of "galloping Gertie" many times. Luckily she stayed safely aloft for our trip over.
A little more driving brought us to the park where the rest of the family was already waiting. It is a beautiful park set on the water with the camp sites back in the woods. Sites are close together, but if you went on a less popular weekend, the might not be an issue. For us, it turned out to be a bad thing because the 50-something lady in the campsite next to ours decided to stay up late drinking boxed wine and talking, talking, talking about anything and everything. We heard her opinion on dozens of topics, but we did not hear quiet until two or three in the morning.
It was also a bit anxious to camp with the baby because the temperature got down into the low 50s, and it was very tough to be sure that she was staying warm enough. At one point in the night I found that she'd poked her little hand out of the blankets, and it felt as cold as a popsicle. I kept waking up to check that she was warm enough all night long. It was not what you would call a restful night.
The next day we did get the chance to enjoy the dramatic scenery. The park is surrounded on two sides by water, so there are many impressive views. Rocky beaches and mud flats are also common, and the girls had a wonderful time cruising the edge of the mud flats looking for sand dollars and tiny fish. There were kayaking and fishing opportunities as well, but we never got that far.
As much as we enjoyed ourselves on Saturday, as it got closer to bedtime, I just couldn't face another night in the tent. Our noisy neighbor was still in residence next door, and the overnight temperatures were not supposed to be any warmer. Thus we admitted defeat. After a lovely campfire dinner, we headed for home. Next time maybe we'll last the whole weekend. Still, I'm very glad we went.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Charts for the Masses
Reason #2,568 that I love M: He makes me charts and graphs.
Recently I was "asked" (ordered) to present information at a meeting with very little lead time to plan. It turned out that the information was not prepared properly, so the task of presenting suddenly required a lot more effort. I was faced with having to crunch the data myself, and with my knowledge of Excel (LOTS of highlighting and manually moving things around) it was not going to be a quick job.
Then, like the hero that he is, M. came to the rescue. With a few deft keystrokes, he had Excel quaking in its boots. Suddenly my mess of data was transformed into beautiful charts with clever sounding names. The presentation went off without a hitch. My boss was grateful, and my co-workers were impressed. I did confess that I had a secret assistant, and that got me a whole new kind of street cred, the superior husband boost!
Recently I was "asked" (ordered) to present information at a meeting with very little lead time to plan. It turned out that the information was not prepared properly, so the task of presenting suddenly required a lot more effort. I was faced with having to crunch the data myself, and with my knowledge of Excel (LOTS of highlighting and manually moving things around) it was not going to be a quick job.
Then, like the hero that he is, M. came to the rescue. With a few deft keystrokes, he had Excel quaking in its boots. Suddenly my mess of data was transformed into beautiful charts with clever sounding names. The presentation went off without a hitch. My boss was grateful, and my co-workers were impressed. I did confess that I had a secret assistant, and that got me a whole new kind of street cred, the superior husband boost!
Monday, May 04, 2009
Cooking for Big Kids
Not long ago, I had one of those sudden realization moments about the nieces. They were staying the night with us, and I was making dinner for the four of us. Without giving it much thought, I cooked enough for two normal portions plus about one more portion to be divided between the girls. You probably know what a kid's plate looks like. That night it was maybe half a cup of tofu, half a potato, and a little hill of peas. Often, the dinners of little kids end up looking like something from nouvelle cuisine because they just have such tiny stomachs. I was used to this.
After just a few minutes of eating, I began to realize my mistake. Food was disappearing at a much faster rate than I'd expected. Before M and I had taken our first few bites, Elder Niece was already chasing the last few peas around her plate. Younger Niece began eyeing my potatoes with a dangerous gleam in her eye. I got myself back in the kitchen as quickly as possible for fear that they might eat M in my absence. Lucky I'd cooked extras for the next day's lunches! Seconds were devoured at much the same speed as the first round.
It seems that the nieces have reached a new stage in their lives where the "hollow leg" effect begins to take over. Never again will I make the mistake of serving them tiny children's portions of anything. You'd think Elder Niece being taller than her grandmother would have tipped me off to these changes, but sometimes I have trouble accepting how fast these things happen. Weren't they sweet little babies about five minutes ago?
After just a few minutes of eating, I began to realize my mistake. Food was disappearing at a much faster rate than I'd expected. Before M and I had taken our first few bites, Elder Niece was already chasing the last few peas around her plate. Younger Niece began eyeing my potatoes with a dangerous gleam in her eye. I got myself back in the kitchen as quickly as possible for fear that they might eat M in my absence. Lucky I'd cooked extras for the next day's lunches! Seconds were devoured at much the same speed as the first round.
It seems that the nieces have reached a new stage in their lives where the "hollow leg" effect begins to take over. Never again will I make the mistake of serving them tiny children's portions of anything. You'd think Elder Niece being taller than her grandmother would have tipped me off to these changes, but sometimes I have trouble accepting how fast these things happen. Weren't they sweet little babies about five minutes ago?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Making a Point With Charts and Graphs
In my classroom I try to teach students about the power of facts when trying to prove a point. After all, if you make some sort of pronouncement, you should be able to back it up with proof. If you don't have any information to back up your opinion, your audience will probably not take you very seriously. This is a lesson many of them struggle to learn, and I often get "persuasive" essays that could not convince a dog to roll in stinky things. Fortunately, Elder Niece is not like these ineffectual weaklings. She is a girl of intellectual muscle, (but I'm not biased!) and she knows that every good point must be proved.
Recently, while the nieces were visiting for the weekend, I noticed Elder Niece making a bar graph. She seemed quite serious about the task, so I did not want to disturb her. However, M heard her describe the purpose of the graph to her sister. It seems that Elder Niece is required by her father (The Strictest Parent Ever) to go to bed at a certain time on school nights. She views this bedtime as unreasonably harsh and would like to negotiate a new deal. She surveyed all the students in her class, and then translated the data to her graph. Bedtimes went on the X-axis, while numbers of kids appeared on the Y-axis. Her graph proves that her bedtime is earlier than the majority of kids in her class.
Now I have read many, many story problems in my career as a student and a teacher. They always seem to me to be terribly contrived situations involving numbers of pizzas and numbers of seats at picnic tables. However, I can honestly say that this was a real-life example of a story problem in action. Who knows if Elder Niece was successful in her bedtime campaign or not, but there can be no doubt that she makes a damn fine graph to prove her point.
Recently, while the nieces were visiting for the weekend, I noticed Elder Niece making a bar graph. She seemed quite serious about the task, so I did not want to disturb her. However, M heard her describe the purpose of the graph to her sister. It seems that Elder Niece is required by her father (The Strictest Parent Ever) to go to bed at a certain time on school nights. She views this bedtime as unreasonably harsh and would like to negotiate a new deal. She surveyed all the students in her class, and then translated the data to her graph. Bedtimes went on the X-axis, while numbers of kids appeared on the Y-axis. Her graph proves that her bedtime is earlier than the majority of kids in her class.
Now I have read many, many story problems in my career as a student and a teacher. They always seem to me to be terribly contrived situations involving numbers of pizzas and numbers of seats at picnic tables. However, I can honestly say that this was a real-life example of a story problem in action. Who knows if Elder Niece was successful in her bedtime campaign or not, but there can be no doubt that she makes a damn fine graph to prove her point.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Eleven Children at the Zoo
My elder brother has been a manager, on and off, for many years now. I assume he's good at his job since he's smart and capable and always in demand by employers. However, I've never really had the chance to see him in the midst of his actual job (have you ever had the chance to watch your brother at work?). Recently had the opportunity to see his managerial skills in action. Only this time, it wasn't a bunch of engineers he was organizing, but a group of small children.
The occasion was Younger Niece's eighth birthday party. She picked Red Robin for her celebratory lunch, and then the whole crowd of us (nine little kids and two big ones) were off to the zoo. The car logistics alone were quite something, but we eventually arrived at the gates with tickets in hand. When you have a group of kids that size, and you don't really know all of them that well, the danger is that a kid could get left behind somewhere, and you wouldn't event notice. Thus some early cave teacher must have invented the first buddy system.
Standing in the mock African village (which looks disappointingly unlike M's childhood home), each kid chose a buddy, and then each pair of buddies chose a grown-up "keeper." This way, every grown-up only had to keep track of two kids. Luckily, Elder Niece and her buddy were willing to partner with M because it turned out that a strange man is too scary for most of the younger girls. I congratulated/kidded Elder Niece on being very brave, and she told me that Uncle M. is "NOT scary AT ALL!" And so we set off.
Each grown-up kept a general eye on his or her pair of kids, but it was my brother who was in the lead. He was also the one who gave general reminders such as "Please don't climb into the pig enclosure!" or "No running in front of strollers!" or perhaps "No petting that part of the bunny!" We stayed until it was almost closing time, and we saw some "really cool stuff." The highlights, as far as the kids were concerned, were a tiny snake eating an even tinier fish, the hippos moving ponderously around, and the lions calling out their sunset "song."
At last, my brother counted up the children one final time before piling them back into cars. He asked Younger Niece what she thought of the trip, and she said that "It would have been the best birthday ever except the one problem. You're the strictest dad EVER! But it was still fun." Nothing like the old mixed message from the budding tween. Grandma gave Younger Niece a lecture about gratitude, but I told me brother he should wear "Strictest Dad Ever" as a serious mark of pride. If that birthday event was the work of the strictest parent ever, then I hope to be one of those myself one day.
The occasion was Younger Niece's eighth birthday party. She picked Red Robin for her celebratory lunch, and then the whole crowd of us (nine little kids and two big ones) were off to the zoo. The car logistics alone were quite something, but we eventually arrived at the gates with tickets in hand. When you have a group of kids that size, and you don't really know all of them that well, the danger is that a kid could get left behind somewhere, and you wouldn't event notice. Thus some early cave teacher must have invented the first buddy system.
Standing in the mock African village (which looks disappointingly unlike M's childhood home), each kid chose a buddy, and then each pair of buddies chose a grown-up "keeper." This way, every grown-up only had to keep track of two kids. Luckily, Elder Niece and her buddy were willing to partner with M because it turned out that a strange man is too scary for most of the younger girls. I congratulated/kidded Elder Niece on being very brave, and she told me that Uncle M. is "NOT scary AT ALL!" And so we set off.
Each grown-up kept a general eye on his or her pair of kids, but it was my brother who was in the lead. He was also the one who gave general reminders such as "Please don't climb into the pig enclosure!" or "No running in front of strollers!" or perhaps "No petting that part of the bunny!" We stayed until it was almost closing time, and we saw some "really cool stuff." The highlights, as far as the kids were concerned, were a tiny snake eating an even tinier fish, the hippos moving ponderously around, and the lions calling out their sunset "song."
At last, my brother counted up the children one final time before piling them back into cars. He asked Younger Niece what she thought of the trip, and she said that "It would have been the best birthday ever except the one problem. You're the strictest dad EVER! But it was still fun." Nothing like the old mixed message from the budding tween. Grandma gave Younger Niece a lecture about gratitude, but I told me brother he should wear "Strictest Dad Ever" as a serious mark of pride. If that birthday event was the work of the strictest parent ever, then I hope to be one of those myself one day.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Precise Art of Taunting
At seven and ten years old, my nieces continue to amaze me on a regular basis. They are so creative and smart (but I'm not biased) that they are always catching me by surprise with one new idea or another. Most of the time this is quite wonderful to behold, but it can, from time to time, get to be kind of annoying too. On a recent road trip, M and I beside ourselves at their latest bit of cleverness.
Sitting in the back seat, they are bored by the four hour car ride. It's dark, so they can no longer read, and we don't have any laptops or dvd players in our car. They are becoming antsy. I try to engage them in word games and "what if" questions, but that only works for so long. Pretty soon they start pestering each other. The subject they argue about is indicative of their ultra-liberal magnate school education (which I love):
Small Niece: I'm making up a religion, and you can't have it. It's a religion about giants (she's done Greek mythology at school)
Elder Niece: Oh yeah, well your religion is stupid!
Small Niece: My religion has giants, and it's the best one.
Elder Niece: Oh yeah, well, I'm not respecting your religion!
Small Niece (incensed): You HAVE to respect my religion!
Elder Niece: NO I DON'T! I'm not respecting it! Ha! Ha!
Me: That's enough
Now you have to repeat that entire conversation from beginning to end about 800 more times. Then change my line to "I SAID BE QUIET RIGHT NOW!!!" (oh my goodness, I sound like my mother). The next part is what makes all this so amazing.
Elder Niece: I'm making up a hand sign that means "I don't respect your religion!"
Small Niece: Oh yeah, well I'm making up a hand sign that means "you can't be in my religion!"
They continued to battle out their fake theological differences (yes, via hand signs) for another hundred miles or so, but at least they were quiet. Who knows, on the next road trip, maybe they can debate the meaning of life using only shadow puppets.
Sitting in the back seat, they are bored by the four hour car ride. It's dark, so they can no longer read, and we don't have any laptops or dvd players in our car. They are becoming antsy. I try to engage them in word games and "what if" questions, but that only works for so long. Pretty soon they start pestering each other. The subject they argue about is indicative of their ultra-liberal magnate school education (which I love):
Small Niece: I'm making up a religion, and you can't have it. It's a religion about giants (she's done Greek mythology at school)
Elder Niece: Oh yeah, well your religion is stupid!
Small Niece: My religion has giants, and it's the best one.
Elder Niece: Oh yeah, well, I'm not respecting your religion!
Small Niece (incensed): You HAVE to respect my religion!
Elder Niece: NO I DON'T! I'm not respecting it! Ha! Ha!
Me: That's enough
Now you have to repeat that entire conversation from beginning to end about 800 more times. Then change my line to "I SAID BE QUIET RIGHT NOW!!!" (oh my goodness, I sound like my mother). The next part is what makes all this so amazing.
Elder Niece: I'm making up a hand sign that means "I don't respect your religion!"
Small Niece: Oh yeah, well I'm making up a hand sign that means "you can't be in my religion!"
They continued to battle out their fake theological differences (yes, via hand signs) for another hundred miles or so, but at least they were quiet. Who knows, on the next road trip, maybe they can debate the meaning of life using only shadow puppets.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Twilight Movie Review
I've been so remiss! It's been weeks and I've forgotten to actually do this review. Since so many people have reviewed it already, it seems kind of pointless to go into details. Suffice it to say, I liked the movie version quite a lot, but still not as much as I loved the book. I AM one of those fans (hopefully a not-too-crazy one) who actually enjoyed the thing. I've had a great time watching my non-believer friends and family fall under the Cullen/Swan spell. Even some people who were DETERMINED not to like the story.
Things I did not enjoy were the soundtrack (in my head this is mostly a quiet story), the casting of Charlie (waaay too young) the casting of Rosalie (waaay to old) and the hair and makeup done on Carlisle (waaay too laughable). Nevertheless, the faithfulness to the original story impressed me, and I am very much looking forward to seeing the next movie come out in a couple of years.
Things I did not enjoy were the soundtrack (in my head this is mostly a quiet story), the casting of Charlie (waaay too young) the casting of Rosalie (waaay to old) and the hair and makeup done on Carlisle (waaay too laughable). Nevertheless, the faithfulness to the original story impressed me, and I am very much looking forward to seeing the next movie come out in a couple of years.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Twilight Movie Reviews
I'm busy falling all over myself with the hilarity of the movie reviews I've been reading today. Everyone has a review of Twilight out right now, and they ALL seem to miss the point. Okay, maybe not ALL of them, but such a significant portion as to be funny. Many of these people talk about how the movie sucks because it totally fails to be a horror movie. Um hello? Horror movie? Are we really so limited as to think that all movies with spooks have to be horror? Many of these reviewers even go so far as to suggest an alternative title with the proper amount of "thrills and chills."
The Slate reviewer admits that she could never actually make it through the book, but she thinks the movie is probably pretty much the same (well how exactly would you know that?). Another group slams the movie for being too complicated and subtle to appeal to children! Children?! Who said anything about taking kids? I wouldn't expect The Nieces to enjoy something like this, and I wouldn't try to make them.
It is almost as if some of the reviewers had already made up their minds to hate this movie before they actually went to the show. Afterwards, they cast around for some reason to throw out there to account for the negative review. I am strongly reminded of the Harry Potter haters who, when you pinned them down, admitted they’d never actually cracked a book!
Why do the self-appointed keepers of popular culture insist on dismissing and misinterpreting anything they deem immature? God forbid we should actually like something that is intended for YOUNG PEOPLE! Eww what an icky thought! That might harm our credibility as SERIOUS and GROWN UP people. Gah! What about trying to judge the thing based on its merits?
The Slate reviewer admits that she could never actually make it through the book, but she thinks the movie is probably pretty much the same (well how exactly would you know that?). Another group slams the movie for being too complicated and subtle to appeal to children! Children?! Who said anything about taking kids? I wouldn't expect The Nieces to enjoy something like this, and I wouldn't try to make them.
It is almost as if some of the reviewers had already made up their minds to hate this movie before they actually went to the show. Afterwards, they cast around for some reason to throw out there to account for the negative review. I am strongly reminded of the Harry Potter haters who, when you pinned them down, admitted they’d never actually cracked a book!
Why do the self-appointed keepers of popular culture insist on dismissing and misinterpreting anything they deem immature? God forbid we should actually like something that is intended for YOUNG PEOPLE! Eww what an icky thought! That might harm our credibility as SERIOUS and GROWN UP people. Gah! What about trying to judge the thing based on its merits?
Friday, October 17, 2008
Nieces Go to the Symphony
I was so proud the other night that I might have burst. Some of our usual symphony crowd were not around for the first performance of the season, and they had kindly offered their season tickets to anyone we wanted to bring. Therefore, with much anxiety and trepidation, we offered to let both nieces attend the concert. Now Elder Niece (I can't really call them big and small anymore since they are both quite big at this point) has been to the symphony before. She behaved well, other people did not, and it was a mixed experience over all. Even so, Elder niece LOVED the music and has wanted to go back ever since.
Younger Niece, like so many younger siblings, really wants to prove that she can be just as mature and grown up as her sister. She also does not want to miss out on anything that might possibly be described as fun. We warned her and warned her that the symphony was hard going and that, in the words of Grandma, "lots of adults have trouble sitting still that long." Younger Niece remained undaunted and assured everyone that she would be as still and quiet as a statue.
Thus it was that we found ourselves in front of Benaroya Hall. Elder Niece was very elegant in slacks and a gold satin blouse, while Younger Niece was quite lovely in a red gown with black velvet ribbons. The usher was very kind as he welcomed them to the show, and then we were off to find our seats. A few people in the row behind us gave looks of utter disgust to see children at the symphony, but luckily, I don't think the nieces noticed. We were careful to arrange children and gown-ups so as to avoid conflict between siblings. Then the music began. I waited with baited breath. Would they misbehave? Would they talk or snuffle or tap their feet?
The results were quite impressive. With one or two reminders about tiny things (crinkling the program for example) they were in great shape. I would say that the behaved better than many of the other people who were sitting around us. At one point, I was just about to lean over and ask Younger Niece to be quiet, and then I realized that it was actually the middle-aged woman behind her making the noise! After the music ended, and people were getting up to go, the man behind us leaned down to compliment Younger Niece on her excellent behavior: "You did better than I did!" This made her smile at the floor, and mutter "thank you."
On the whole, I was very pleased with this symphony experience. I won't be buying the nieces season tickets, but I will feel comfortable taking them along a couple times a year. This also gives me the confidence to take them to other kinds of performances too. Given that Elder Niece likes "the clashing banging music" best, I'm wondering what she will review something like the Phantom of the Opera or Swan Lake. As they get older, it's fascinating to watch them develop a sense of self and of personal taste about all kinds of different things. One day they're telling you about their favorite stuffed animal, and then suddenly they're explaining why Mozart is better than Tchaikovsky. Amazing.
Younger Niece, like so many younger siblings, really wants to prove that she can be just as mature and grown up as her sister. She also does not want to miss out on anything that might possibly be described as fun. We warned her and warned her that the symphony was hard going and that, in the words of Grandma, "lots of adults have trouble sitting still that long." Younger Niece remained undaunted and assured everyone that she would be as still and quiet as a statue.
Thus it was that we found ourselves in front of Benaroya Hall. Elder Niece was very elegant in slacks and a gold satin blouse, while Younger Niece was quite lovely in a red gown with black velvet ribbons. The usher was very kind as he welcomed them to the show, and then we were off to find our seats. A few people in the row behind us gave looks of utter disgust to see children at the symphony, but luckily, I don't think the nieces noticed. We were careful to arrange children and gown-ups so as to avoid conflict between siblings. Then the music began. I waited with baited breath. Would they misbehave? Would they talk or snuffle or tap their feet?
The results were quite impressive. With one or two reminders about tiny things (crinkling the program for example) they were in great shape. I would say that the behaved better than many of the other people who were sitting around us. At one point, I was just about to lean over and ask Younger Niece to be quiet, and then I realized that it was actually the middle-aged woman behind her making the noise! After the music ended, and people were getting up to go, the man behind us leaned down to compliment Younger Niece on her excellent behavior: "You did better than I did!" This made her smile at the floor, and mutter "thank you."
On the whole, I was very pleased with this symphony experience. I won't be buying the nieces season tickets, but I will feel comfortable taking them along a couple times a year. This also gives me the confidence to take them to other kinds of performances too. Given that Elder Niece likes "the clashing banging music" best, I'm wondering what she will review something like the Phantom of the Opera or Swan Lake. As they get older, it's fascinating to watch them develop a sense of self and of personal taste about all kinds of different things. One day they're telling you about their favorite stuffed animal, and then suddenly they're explaining why Mozart is better than Tchaikovsky. Amazing.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Dress Success
A few weeks ago, my mom, my two nieces, and I all took a trip to the bridal salon. My mom was in the market for a mother-of-the-bride gown, I wanted something to wear to the rehearsal, and Big Niece was in need of a junior bride’s maid gown. Yes, you read that correctly; Big Niece has agreed to wear a dress.
Now I was all set to have Big Niece wear pants and a nice blouse because I am well aware of her life-long hatred for dresses. However, a few subtle comments from her seemed to imply that she might want to wear a dress, but not want to admit to that desire. I posed the question to my brother over the phone one night. He promised to speak to her about things, and only a few minutes later he called back. "She wants to tell you herself" he said. Big Niece came on the line, and without any greeting she said "don't expect me to wear it EVER again and NO pink or sparkles or bows." I agreed that these seemed like quite doable requests.
When we got to the store, she tried quickly identified the dresses that were unacceptable. Some were too frilly or fluffy, others came in the unmentionable color, and a few she found too revealing (shocking cuts for kids I have to agree with her!). This left us with three choices. She tried on all three, chose two she liked, and finally selected one after receiving reassurance that Grandma could remove the one objectionable bow/sparkle from the strap. What she doesn't know is that I got her a Lord of the Rings leaf pin to replace the unfortunate bow. I think we've come to an excellent agreement. Now we just have to deal with shoes.
By the way, the rest of us were successful in our searches too, but that hardly seems worth mentioning after the triumph of getting Big Niece into her gown.
Now I was all set to have Big Niece wear pants and a nice blouse because I am well aware of her life-long hatred for dresses. However, a few subtle comments from her seemed to imply that she might want to wear a dress, but not want to admit to that desire. I posed the question to my brother over the phone one night. He promised to speak to her about things, and only a few minutes later he called back. "She wants to tell you herself" he said. Big Niece came on the line, and without any greeting she said "don't expect me to wear it EVER again and NO pink or sparkles or bows." I agreed that these seemed like quite doable requests.
When we got to the store, she tried quickly identified the dresses that were unacceptable. Some were too frilly or fluffy, others came in the unmentionable color, and a few she found too revealing (shocking cuts for kids I have to agree with her!). This left us with three choices. She tried on all three, chose two she liked, and finally selected one after receiving reassurance that Grandma could remove the one objectionable bow/sparkle from the strap. What she doesn't know is that I got her a Lord of the Rings leaf pin to replace the unfortunate bow. I think we've come to an excellent agreement. Now we just have to deal with shoes.
By the way, the rest of us were successful in our searches too, but that hardly seems worth mentioning after the triumph of getting Big Niece into her gown.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Seattle Wedding Show P.S.
Forgot to mention that, through a quirk of scheduling, the nieces went with us to the wedding show. They were only there for a little while, but it was quite amusing to watch them take it all in. I really thought that Small Niece would love it (miles of lace and fancy things! Yay!) but that Big niece might be quite horrified (miles of lace and fancy things! Ugh!). What I did not anticipate was the effect of cake.
It seemed like there were cake booths every ten feet. If you are a cute little girl who knows how to smile sweetly, it turns out that lots of people will offer you samples of said cake. I think they got to try four or five different samples in about ten minutes. Unfortunately, they were absolutely worthless as cake testers. Every time I asked what they thought they just smiled their cakey smiles, and exclaimed over how yummy it all was. It's a good thing Dad arrived before they'd gotten any farther, or they might have eaten themselves sick. One of the great joys in life is in getting your sibling's kid all hyped up on sugar and then handing them back.
It seemed like there were cake booths every ten feet. If you are a cute little girl who knows how to smile sweetly, it turns out that lots of people will offer you samples of said cake. I think they got to try four or five different samples in about ten minutes. Unfortunately, they were absolutely worthless as cake testers. Every time I asked what they thought they just smiled their cakey smiles, and exclaimed over how yummy it all was. It's a good thing Dad arrived before they'd gotten any farther, or they might have eaten themselves sick. One of the great joys in life is in getting your sibling's kid all hyped up on sugar and then handing them back.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Big Niece Goes to the Symphony
We finally did it; we took Big Niece to the symphony. I've been contemplating it for some time now, and I was just not sure if she was old enough (nine), if she would like it, if she could sit still and be quiet. Then, last week, an extra ticket became available at very short notice. We made a phone call, swooped in, and picked her up still wearing her school clothes. When asked if she wanted to go, she was not remotely ambivalent. "Yes, duh!" were her exact words. It seems that she has read a few books about Mozart, and she is fascinated by the idea.
Before we entered the hall, I explained how everyone would listen silently, and how she would have to be able to sit still for TWO WHOLE HOURS. She said she could handle this idea. We made a quick potty visit, and then we headed down to our seats (for future reference, seats up fairly close to the stage are good for kids because they can really watch the performers). She was thrilled with the idea of having her own ticket and her own program, and we spent some time talking about how you can just imagine a story for each performer you see on stage.
As the music began, she was enthralled. She hardly tried to talk to me or wiggle in her seat, but sat there with nearly rapt attention. Only once or twice did I have to remind her to be silent. At the end of one particularly boisterous piece, you could hear her voice say "Wow!" just before the applause cut in. I was thinking we might have to leave at intermission if she seemed bored, but when we actually got there, I was sure we didn't need to go.
Just before intermission ended, I borrowed a pen from a friend. My plan was to avoid any talking at all by letting her write notes about the music. We used the back of a card, and she happily wrote questions and comments and passed them to me. She did not talk (at least I really don't think she did) and she did not wiggle. Her comments about the music where quite interesting too. For example, as she watched the cellist really feeling the music she wrote "It looks like he is smelling a really good smell!" I was very proud of her because she was not the only child there, but she was definitely the best-behaved. Thus you would think this was the perfect evening. However, this was not quite the case.
After the rounds of applause were over, and stood chatting as we waited for the crowds to clear. The woman (the enormously large woman I can't help but add) who had been sitting behind us leaned forward and said "You must not pass notes at the symphony! It is very visually distracting!" I was in complete shock. The only responses that came to mind were not appropriate for children to hear! I just shook my head at her, and watched her ooze her slimy way up the aisle. My poor little niece was silent. I really think her whole experience was tarnished by this awful, unkind person.
People often remark how youth does not appreciate culture. They moan about the lack of manners and respectful behavior. Is it any wonder that kids often behave badly when there are people out there who treat them like this? I am not suggesting that kids be allowed to run wild, but a little kindness and understanding would have been invaluable in this case.
In spite of the ending, it really was a successful visit to the symphony. When my brother heard that she'd gone, he asked her, incredulously, if she enjoyed it. She laughed and said "Duh! Yes!" She gave the same response when he asked if she wanted to go again some time. I guess the experience can't have been tarnished too much (although I still hope the nasty woman gets an unpleasant disease) because she's excited to go again. Next time we need to find a concert with some Mozart.
Before we entered the hall, I explained how everyone would listen silently, and how she would have to be able to sit still for TWO WHOLE HOURS. She said she could handle this idea. We made a quick potty visit, and then we headed down to our seats (for future reference, seats up fairly close to the stage are good for kids because they can really watch the performers). She was thrilled with the idea of having her own ticket and her own program, and we spent some time talking about how you can just imagine a story for each performer you see on stage.
As the music began, she was enthralled. She hardly tried to talk to me or wiggle in her seat, but sat there with nearly rapt attention. Only once or twice did I have to remind her to be silent. At the end of one particularly boisterous piece, you could hear her voice say "Wow!" just before the applause cut in. I was thinking we might have to leave at intermission if she seemed bored, but when we actually got there, I was sure we didn't need to go.
Just before intermission ended, I borrowed a pen from a friend. My plan was to avoid any talking at all by letting her write notes about the music. We used the back of a card, and she happily wrote questions and comments and passed them to me. She did not talk (at least I really don't think she did) and she did not wiggle. Her comments about the music where quite interesting too. For example, as she watched the cellist really feeling the music she wrote "It looks like he is smelling a really good smell!" I was very proud of her because she was not the only child there, but she was definitely the best-behaved. Thus you would think this was the perfect evening. However, this was not quite the case.
After the rounds of applause were over, and stood chatting as we waited for the crowds to clear. The woman (the enormously large woman I can't help but add) who had been sitting behind us leaned forward and said "You must not pass notes at the symphony! It is very visually distracting!" I was in complete shock. The only responses that came to mind were not appropriate for children to hear! I just shook my head at her, and watched her ooze her slimy way up the aisle. My poor little niece was silent. I really think her whole experience was tarnished by this awful, unkind person.
People often remark how youth does not appreciate culture. They moan about the lack of manners and respectful behavior. Is it any wonder that kids often behave badly when there are people out there who treat them like this? I am not suggesting that kids be allowed to run wild, but a little kindness and understanding would have been invaluable in this case.
In spite of the ending, it really was a successful visit to the symphony. When my brother heard that she'd gone, he asked her, incredulously, if she enjoyed it. She laughed and said "Duh! Yes!" She gave the same response when he asked if she wanted to go again some time. I guess the experience can't have been tarnished too much (although I still hope the nasty woman gets an unpleasant disease) because she's excited to go again. Next time we need to find a concert with some Mozart.
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