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< > December 2006

• Mon, Dec 18, 2006 6:00 PM

  How To Properly Perform At A TumbleDance Program
  by, Calvin
  
  1. Attend practices religiously for 3 months.
  
  2. Follow along with much enthusiasm.
  
  3. Be a star pupil. DURING PRACTICE ONLY. I cannot stress this enough.
  
  4. Talk about your classes incessantly to anyone who will listen.
  
  5. Ask every few minutes up to and including the day of the recital if everyone is going to come watch you dance.
  
  6. Get so excited the day of the recital that you can't sleep or sit still. Or stop screaming.
  
  7. Remind your Mama 57,893 times during the morning commute that she can't forget to come watch you dance.
  
  8. Papa, too.
  
  9. When the recital starts, stand in one place the entire time. DO. NOT. MOVE.
  
  10. When asked by your parents afterwards why you didn't dance, explain the thing on your finger was far too disturbing to ignore and thus, dance.

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• Thu, Dec 14, 2006 8:06 AM

  My Calvin, My Babe
  
  Calvin, my Calvin. You turned 4 today. And your Grandma? She turned 5, apparently. And then when I asked you how old I was, you told me I was 6. Try explaining THAT one to your future biology teacher.
  
  My Punkin, what has happened? You don't fit into any categories anymore. You're obviously no longer a baby (though you'll always be MY baby), toddler doesn't seem to quite fit, and little boy just doesn't cut the mustard either. So what on Earth are you?
  
  Crank? Night Owl? Goofball? Noxious gas factory? Yes, well, you're all of those, but you're also this little person who is somehow able to irritate and charm me at the exact same time. HOW DO YOU DO THAT? You learned that from your father, didn't you?
  
  How do I put into words what the last year has brought? Well, actually I don’t. What follows is most likely going to be a string of incoherent, non-linear thoughts and memories with no organization whatsoever. Just like our daily lives. Whee!
  
  I'd like to think the part of your brain that translates and filters your thoughts out through your mouth is going through an awkward phase and I don't look forward to the day it straightens itself out. Although the sneaky part of your brain is far more developed than I’d like it to be, I love that look you get on your face when you’re carefully considering how to convince your father and me that we should let you watch Monster House one more time because the previous 397 times just weren’t enough.
  
  I love that you’re not a morning person and you grumble and groan and stretch and moan about having to get up at such an ungodly hour. Child, I know exactly how you feel. I’m sorry your papa and I passed that along to you. It only gets worse from here.
  
  I love that you feel the need to chatter non-stop on the way to and from school about everything and nothing all at once. About how important it is to not get hit by cars or trains and that it’s dangerous to do otherwise. Such logic!
  
  Watching your imagination this past year has been absolutely fascinating. This alone was worth all those sleepless nights when you first started cutting teeth a lifetime ago. The best part of my day is watching you act out scenes from your latest favorite movie, show or book when you don’t know Papa and I are watching from around the corner. Please don’t ever lose that.
  
  The things you come up with. Standing on my legs clad in only your firefighter underwear, telling me you love me while tooting out loud and laughing? Nobody else could get away with something like that and still make me want to hold them close. No, not even your papa.
  
  And you know what else? I love that look on your face when you’re carefully considering just how far you can push your temper tantrum before we send you to your room. Little do we know that you’re merely honing your skills and practicing for future battles. Oh, Calvin, I cannot wait.

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