From the Archives: Philosophy, Check-ups, and Moving.
In these snippets from the archives, A. demonstrates an interesting take on philosophy, does extremely well at a check-up, and handles our move to Knoxville like a pro. (And, for the record, traveling around the United States in a camper sounds just as appealing now at 33 as it did when I was 25.)
July 11th, 2004:
At the park just now, A. and other little girl on swing.
Girl: What's your name?
Girl: My name's Jenny.
A: Your name's Jenny.
A: Hey, Jenny.
A: I am.
Girl: You are what?
A: I Am.
July 16th, 2004:
Visitations to the doctor are usually ordeals for A., obviously. And who can blame her? You walk into a room, you have someone poke and prod at you and *severely* invade your personal space, and then you're usually given icky medicine you have to take.
I took A. to get her Pre-K checkup on my lunch break today, and I just wanted to announce what a wonderful job she did, how good she was, and how intensely proud I am of her. She was a little confused by the machine that checked her hearing, but she passed all the same, she followed instructions when reading the eye chart, she let the doctor look in her mouth and ears with little complaint, and she even took her last three vaccinations like a true pro. I felt so horrible, though. I tried to explain to her what was going to happen, and when the nurse came and started sticking needles in her arms, she just had this look on her face like "But you're a nice person, and I like you! What are you doing to me?!" And instead of throwing fits, she simply whined "Ow, ow, ow," until finally, on the last one, she squirmed a bit and started to cry (it apparently is the one that *really* hurts.) But, still, she didn't stay upset, though she wanted me to hold her of course, and I bought her ice cream for doing such a good job and following directions so well.
My little baby's growing up!
August 12th, 2004:
A. has been such an amazing trooper about this entire moving thing. I was really expecting her to flip out and have Mad Crazy Meltdowns as soon as I Changed Her Entire Life On Her. But, I swear, the child has hardly blinked an eye. She goes to her new child care center like she's been going to it her entire life, and everyone there is falling madly in love with her (as pretty much everyone who ever meets A. does.) When I pick her up in the afternoon, she chirps happily, "Let's go back to the a-park-ment L," which, of course, we do. And we go on walks around the neighborhood, and she loves the laundromat, and the neighborhood is *full* of dogs, which make A. excited to no end. And sometimes we'll hop over to Ely's "a-park-ment" and play with her cats and her toys and her piano, and sometimes Erin will take us to a playground or someplace equally fun. (Even though I don't think A. was particularly fond of the art museum.) I'd like to try to take her to The World's Fair Park sometime soon, since apparently they have large fountains to play in there which I know she'd love. So, yeah... she's been incredible. I just started off on our same routines on the first day, and she seems perfectly okay with everything. Amazing.
And this morning, I'm listening to a radio program on NPR that is telling me about how stressful it is for children during a move to a new location, how hard it is for them to adjust, how most children end up with failing grades and having behavior issues when they've relocated, but... that was never true for *me*, at least. And at least, thus far, it doesn't seem true for A.
All the same, I *do* understand this does *not* give me permission to pursue a gypsy-like lifestyle and travel around the United States in a camper. However appealing that may sound at times.