A 6 Year-Old's First Real Milestone

Today is my 6 year-old's last day at the school she's attended since she was about 18 months old. She had her 'graduation' at the end of June, but then spent the next couple of months attending daily camp-like sessions at the same place. Therefore, no real change yet.

But today she leaves the school and after a week's vacation will start Grade 1 at a brand new place, with new teachers, new kids, new procedures, ...new everything.

She's feeling - for the first time in her life, I believe - what genuine change feels like. The signs:

• "Daddy, I don't want to go to Grade One."
• "Daddy, I like where I am. Do I have to go? Can't I just stay here?"

I feel for her. As I write this post, I'm getting sad.

The school she's leaving has had an amazing impact on her life:

• The teachers are beautiful people who appear to enjoy being around kids all day long. They sing. They smile. They hug. They seem to love what they do. And the kids feel it. I could NEVER do what they do; 30 minutes with my truly wonderful child and I need a break (okay, 20). To the teachers that she is about to leave behind, I say thank you for what you've done to shape my daughter. She is a reflection of your devotion and she will carry you with her always.
• The school's program has far exceeded our expectations. We first put her here because we needed daycare and it happened to be a 3 minute walk from our house. About a year in, we realized it was a school (when she started speaking French in the back seat of the car one day). She has learned so much, and she's learned to love learning. She reads. She writes. She does math. She knows some Sign Language. She's got a better sense of the geography of Canada than my older daughters do. And she's got table manners that put us all to shame.
• Speaking of the table, the school has fed her healthy and organic food for the last 4+ years. We've relied on the fact that she eats well at lunch - so much so that we've been feeding her God-knows-what for dinner without guilt. We don't even know for sure what healthy food she likes and dislikes. One day, for example, we were in a Sushi restaurant and my older daughter ordered seaweed...turns out the 6 year-old loves seaweed and eats it at school. And tuna. And other good stuff. Now all we have to do is to get her to train us to give her healthy food at home. We don't know what's going to happen in Grade 1, when it's up to us to send her to school with lunch, and then feed her again at dinner. But that's a whole 10 days from now so we have plenty of time to figure it out.
• But above all of that, she leaves behind an amazing group of friends with whom she has shared most of her life so far. The kids at this school are all amazing. They have great manners. They love each other. The play in structured and respectful ways (the girls, at least). They're smart. They're wonderful in every way kids can be wonderful. They have very tight relationships, and the circle of parents has likewise developed that kind of relationship. We've committed to continuing to get together as an extended family once a month for as long as we can and we've got social media on our side, but I still worry that we will let other things (like life) get in the way. These kids can be lifelong friends, and we're hoping the parents can be too. I don't know that the 6 year-old will ever have a more nurturing cocoon around her again (like the one she's enjoyed while amongst these families at this school) but I'm thankful for the 4+ years that it has contributed to her growth and her love of people.

Sure, things will be good as she moves on to the next school, the next grade, new friends, and so on. But change is change and as she'll soon find out, it's always bittersweet.

I'm really melancholy today. I don't know for sure what she's feeling (because I'm not home right now) but I hope she relishes the final few hours of this phase of her life.

Sniff.

Today is the first day of the Ex!

Today is the first day of the Canadian National Exhibition 2015. I love the CNE and have loved it all my life.

For those of you who don't live in, or didn't grow up in Toronto, the CNE is a great big fair that runs for the last 2 weeks of summer (not actual summer, before-school-starts summer) every year. It's been an annual event in Toronto forever, starting as an agricultural fair long before any of us were born.

It's loud, crowded, hot, over-priced, exhausting, dirty in places, and completely awesome.

I've been going to the Ex (as we lovingly refer to it around here) since my Mom started bringing us there as wee children. (My Dad was busy). I've tried to do the same with my daughters whenever we are in the city at the end of August and I think they love it too, but they can't possibly love it as much as I do.

Why?

The Ex is great now and back in the day it was more or less the same. BUT, back in the day, the rest of the world was way less awesome, and the Ex was where you had to go to encounter awesomeness. 


The Food building had food you couldn't get anywhere else: Tiny Tom donuts, paper bowls of spaghetti for less than a dollar, bags of candy, back bacon on a bun, and an array of international cuisine that blew my childhood mind (I didn't eat any of it, mind you, but I could have!)

The shopping building (Shoppers' World?) had stuff you couldn't buy anywhere else with Exhibition Sales offering prices you couldn't find anywhere else. The Better Living building had marvels of new technology and comfortable couches that - again - you couldn't find anywhere else. The Horticulture building had plants! There were horses jumping over things in the horse building, and calves being squeezed out of their mommy cows in the cow building (not actually called that, but I didn't want to refer to it as the 'building that smells like poop').

And you couldn't experience these tastes and sounds and smells anywhere else or in any other way than by attending in person. There was no Internet. There weren't food courts. American stores were only in America. There was no Canada's Wonderland to offer you funnel cakes or waffle sandwiches. There was only the Ex.

Ah the memories:

• Doggie doggie! Doggie doggie! (I won one once and named him "Clem" because that seemed apropos for a giant ugly orange dog wearing denim overalls).
• Carlsberg horses trotting around in circles (which doesn't sound that fun, but for some reason I thought it was back then).
• The Air Show, with screaming jets flying overhead. And a water show with boats and skiers and the like.
• Again, Tiny Tom donuts, being extruded into boiling hot grease with little David pressing his face against the plastic imagining how good they'd taste (Cinnamon powder? Icing sugar? Plain? Oh, the dilemma).
• Nickel Pepsi. Or Coke, depending on what year it was.
• Street performers, clowns, magicians - so much to see and so little time.

The Ex was the end of summer. It was always a bittersweet time of year. After the Ex, the only thing left before school was sleeping over at someone's house to watch the Labour Day Jerry Lewis telethon. Then it was school and boringness for another 50 weeks.

My youngest starts grade one this year and my eldest is off to a faraway land for yet more university. Middle is getting near the end of her undergraduate degree. September's going to be busy at work. The world keeps moving forward. And only the Ex remains lovingly the same.

I hope I can get there this year.

The Green Glass

This story is inspired by real events...

Once, when David was very small, one of his 3 older sisters said to him: "Today is Mom's birthday. We're all walking to the mall. Do you want to come with us so you can buy her a present?"

David loved his Mommy very much so of course he wanted to go to the mall and buy her a present. But being very small, he only had one dollar to spend. "What can I buy Mommy for one dollar?" he wondered.

When they arrived at the mall, they went to a great big store that their Mom loved to shop at. David called it "The May" even though everyone else thought it was called "The Bay".

In The May, David looked around for something that he could buy for only one dollar. Dresses were too expensive. Shoes were too expensive (and Mommy always needed new shoes because she used them to crush spiders). Gloves were too expensive. Necklaces were too expensive. Mommy didn't wear earrings, and they were too expensive.

Just when David was starting to feel sad because he couldn't find a gift that he could buy with his one dollar, he found himself in the kitchen section. And there, on the shelf, was a sparkling new green glass that was only seventy-nine cents.  It looked something like this:

He stood on his tippy toes so he could reach the green glass, carefully pulled it off the shelf, and carried it over to the cashier. The cashier looked at little David and the green glass in his hand, smiled sweetly, took his one dollar, gave him some change, and then carefully wrapped the green glass in white tissue paper before putting it into a May bag. David said thanks and told the lady that this was a birthday present for his Mommy, and that made the lady smile even bigger.

He then found his sisters and they all walked home together. During the walk they asked David what was in the bag that he carried so proudly, but he didn't tell. All he said was "It's Mommy's birthday present".

When they got home, they all gathered in the living room to sing Happy Birthday to David's Mommy. Each of his sisters gave her a present. David's Daddy gave her a present. And then finally it was David's turn.

He handed his Mommy the May bag containing the glass and said "Happy Birthday Mommy! I bought this for you all by myself with my own money."

She carefully opened the bag while everyone in the family watched. She pulled out the tissue paper and unwrapped the green glass. She smiled and pulled David close to her. "This is the best present ever!" she said, before kissing him and hugging him even tighter than normal.

David's older sisters and his Daddy watched the scene in silence for a few seconds, and then burst out laughing. It wasn't friendly, loving laughing either. It was mean-spirited bullying kind of laughing. Like they were teasing David. The laughter made David feel very sad, and even worse, he didn't even understand why they were laughing. His Mommy whispered in his ear "Don't listen to them. Your present is my favourite of all. You're the only one who really knows what I like."

That made David feel better and he tuned out the sounds of the rest of his family, snuggled into his Mommy's arms and was content. Then she carried him into the kitchen, rinsed the green glass, filled it with milk, took a sip, said "mmmmmmmmmmm", and then handed the rest of the milk to David to drink: "Try it," she said, "the green glass makes the milk taste delicious!"

When they were done enjoying the milk, David's Mommy and Daddy put him into their car and drove him back to the University of Waterloo where he was just starting the third year of his Computer Science studies. "Thank you for the best birthday ever," said his Mommy, as she said goodbye and drove away.

The End.

I added the last paragraph - which isn't true - because I still carry scars from the merciless ridicule I have endured over the years because I loved my Mommy so much that I spent all of my money on a green glass for her birthday. My Analyst suggested that maybe if I write about the incident and add a little bit of humour, I can finally get past the pain and humiliation inflicted on me by my family members. But he's a Systems Analyst, so what does he know?

Final thought: Who from my family can remember what they bought my Mommy for her birthday that year? Which present do you think my Mommy still remembers? Huh? Huh?