New shoes, new socks, trying on clothes and not particularly loving it; ah the joys of going back to school.  But my little one said she was “nervous and excited” to be returning to her Montessori school where she will be in the same classroom she had last year.  She will already have some friends she knows from her first year.  This is her second.  Her school has three “grades” in each class:  primary students in their first year, second year (Pre-K) and third year (kindergarten).  I only attended private school for kindergarten and first grade and we had no uniforms.  I LOVE that she gets to wear them and frankly I am glad to see some public schools adopting the practice as well.  I got made fun of in junior high mercilessly by a rich girl for wearing the same clothes a lot.  (If she only knew I’d gotten them at the Goodwill.)  At the risk of sounding somewhat socialist — which I most definitely am not — uniforms bring a sense of communal equity and also a feeling of being on the same proverbial team.  I think they are wonderful.  From a mother’s point of view there is no battle over what to wear each day and it puts the focus where it belongs — on learning.  I know my little one is proud of her school and loves her plaid.  The wee bit of Scots-Irish in me is proud she has her own plaid as well.  American author Tom Bodett said:

“The difference between school and life?  In school, you’re taught a lesson and then given a test.  In life, you’re given a test that teaches you a lesson.”

She has so much to learn.  But for today, I am just glad she had a “great” first day of Pre-K.

Maris:  it means “of the sea” in Latin.  She has been to the beach every year of her life since she was eight months old.  My little one loves the water and is truly a water baby.  Her eyes are as dark as the bottom of the ocean and her hair curls like the waves of the tides.  I cannot recall a time when I have not had to drag her out of the water.  At about one and a half she let the gentle current rock her to sleep on a shaded baby float I was holding.  Despite her visible exhaustion she has refused to leave.  Once when she was two I saw the cabana boys taking up the umbrellas and chairs and I told her the beach was closing.  They were actually removing everything so the sea turtles could come out to nest.  I explained we shared the ocean with them as well as a host of other creatures.  Since then it has been a tiny bit easier.  When she was three we got her shark arm floaties and I will never forget when she said, “Bye Bye Mama”, turned away from me, and was wildly far off before I could practically blink!  Burk told me to be careful of the undertow and I freaked out!  I had absolutely no idea, given I had grown up in a landlocked city and did not have the privilege of traveling a lot before marriage.  This past year I remember her telling me she needed to use the facilities and, I confess, I told her she could just tinkle in the water.  Horrified, she said, “Mama, I do not want to hurt any of the animals in the sea!” and to this day I feel guilty.  The Canadian marine wildlife conservation activist Paul Watson has been quoted as saying:

“I have been honoured to serve the whales, dolphins, seals – and all the other creatures on this Earth.  Their beauty, intelligence, strength, and spirit have inspired me.”

Now we have a little mermaid who truly believes she is able to swim and she is fearless.  We know it is past time for her to really swim independently; it is a lifelong, lifesaving skill.  And so she was beyond excited for her first day of swim class at an indoor swim school.  Her smile never left her beaming face and she kept making little squeals of delight.  She really did look and sound like a little dolphin.  So far she has mastered two skills in her Dolphin 1 class.  Her father and I hope that by Christmas she will be able to not only save herself and float, but eventually … swim like a dolphin.

My little one and I have been watching “Mulan” lately.  I think it is the last Disney movie I got to see with both of my parents before my father passed.  I have always loved it, but now that I have a girl of my own I have a greater appreciation for it all — the story, the history, the humor, and the lessons behind it.  I love so many Disney classics, but this is one of those I can watch over and over which, to me, proves its mettle.  Starting with the emphasis on Mulan’s appearance in the beginning of the movie, I have noticed how many times people have been kind enough to remark upon my little one’s looks.  Yesterday it even happened remotely by a teller in a bank who was in another state and simply saw her on the screen.  I remember experiencing the same compliments as a kid, but as I got older my father would say, “Thank you; she just won her school Spelling Bee!”  Since my girl is too little for me to point out many academic achievements yet, after she thanks them I always chase that with “and she’s up for her first black belt in martial arts!”  The looks of surprise on male and female faces alike make me realize society has progressed but not nearly far enough.  If she were a boy they would not even bat an eyelash.  Plenty of people have truly not believed it until I have shown them the videos on my phone of her breaking boards with either her foot or her elbow.  At least I feel she is doing a small part in giving people pause from saying girls are just pretty and only boys are strong.  In our small entryway is a large, cobalt vase filled with orange (I cringe to admit this) artificial blossoms.  They look great all year round and the cats don’t eat them.  Anyway, I was going out the door when I glanced over and saw this pictured above hanging perfectly suspended from the flowers.  Silently congratulating my little one for recognizing the shoots were Asian, I wondered what on earth Mulan was doing there.  And then I decided to leave her as a reminder that being underestimated can be an asset.  My favorite quote from the film:

“The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.”

American writer Ray Bradbury once said, “Jump, and you will find out how to unfold your wings as you fall.”  My little one, as you can see, was red-faced and happy after bouncing up and down on a trampoline at her friend’s birthday party.  At first she was afraid.  She could not even climb on it by herself.  When she finally did decide to get on, her feet did not leave the rubber.  But then, slowly but surely, there was a tiny bit of space between her toes and the trampoline.  After a little while longer she was gleefully jumping; increasingly without as much caution.  I confess as a kid I was scared and always worried about getting stuck in the coils.  I want her to be careful but not afraid to try new things.  So much of life is about taking a leap of faith and I think when we stop doing that we stop living.  I have no desire to skydive but I would like to try and paint more.  I may not be the best but it is out of my comfort zone and I have learned from trying it.  I want to continue to push myself to explore new things and I encourage anyone reading this to do the same:  jump, and unfold your wings.