mama’s sewing circus

It was a short first week for Sylvie at her new school, but long enough to be eventful.

I posted pictures of the send-off on Wednesday, and no, Sylvie wasn’t the slightest bit worried about starting her new school. I was terrified - I packed her 2 changes of clothes, was that enough to get her through the day? Would she nap? Was she going to be totally worn out by the end of the day? They both had coughs, were they going to be grumpy and whiney? (Or in Sylvie’s case, would she abuse the other children?) Would Will take care of Sylvie? Would she listen to the teachers?

And as usual, my fears were all for naught. The difference between the mom and pop school and the “real” preschool is that the real school has so many kids on the cusp of being potty trained at any given point, they can’t rely on the kids to tell them it is time to go - so, all activities revolve around the bathroom. They just keep taking the whole class in there every 20-30 minutes to wash hands and go. Sylvie was returned to me in the same clothes we sent her off to school. Uses potty - check! When I walked in, I was greeted by cackling teachers saying, “Oh, YOUR kids get VIP treatment!” as apparently, Sylvie, having trouble falling asleep in the new environment unconventionally crawled up into the teacher’s lap and napped there. First child in the recorded history of the school allowed to do so. Documented with cell phone pictures. Takes naps - check! And the rules? Well, Sylvie has explained to me that there is no fighting at “kain-esse.” … Any wonder where/how she learned that one! Follows rules - needs improvement. Apparently, the appearance of his sister at school is making Will anxious, as he allegedly spent the entire two days helping his sister follow the rules - “No! Sylvie, you can’t cross the yellow lines on the bikes! … Oh, Sylvie! You don’t walk on THAT side of the tires near the swings! … No, *that’s* the DOWN side of the slide, *this* is the UP side! …” Protective big brother - check! And continuing the tradition of *my* child being the dirtiest child in the school, come the end of each day, Sylvie, too, looked like the cast of Le Miserables. (To think I used to laugh at how implausible those laundry detergent commercials with the chocolate sauce, mud, and grape juice splattered on each garment were. Whose clothes get that dirty? How naive I was before kids.)

Needless to say, Will is earning a lot of marbles and special treats. When I told him that as a thank you for taking such good care of his sister, I’d give him marbles and some special chocolate, he asked, “Can Sylvie have marbles and special chocolate, too? She followed *some* of the rules.”

Here’s hoping the start of Kindergarten goes as smoothly.

We fell asleep last night to the sulphuric smoke of brightly colored cloud bottoms wafting into our open windows. Ah, July in the Bay Area!

As is customary, Big Tow is driving WWII military vehicles in the Novato parade, this morning. As you can tell, the kids don’t find this exciting at all:

(the blue dress is Sylvie)

Hope your 4th is wonderful.

We just dropped the kids at school. Sylvie’s first day.

Will lectured Sylvie all morning on what to do, where to sit, how to act. I think he may be the most excited.

We got donuts for breakfast in hope that the alcohol released during the digestion of the sugars will make Sylvie more friendly.

When we arrived at school, the kids rushed in to wash hands and then find Sylvie’s cubbie. She’s a napper, so hers is way in the back next to art supplies that Will explained to her. “Sylvie, these are scissors, and these are markers.” I love how he is so enthusiastic about his job as school docent that he is explaining the obvious things.

Washing off the donut smell and giving dad an evil look for invading her privacy.

Those tiny sinks are a big deal to the little kids. Sylvie used to insist on using the bathroom every time we’d drop Will off. I’m hoping the tiny bathrooms are exciting enough to keep our potty training top of mind.

The goodbye window. Look mom, no tears!

It is a big week. Sylvie’s nanny share with Theo has come to an end, she is leaving her Spanish emersion school and heading off to big kid preschool to be near her brother. Will has been enthusiastically instructing her in the ways of preschool, Doug has been cheering her on, and Sylvie and I are dying inside. I’m sure she’s wondering what the fuss is about. I’m sad to be sending off our beloved nanny and to see my baby all grown up. I know, next comes dating! The horror, the horror!

Last picture of the share:

That is Theo. Sylvie taught him self-defense. He taught Sylvie compassion. Fair trade, I’d say. Their nanny is a real live Sherpani who toted them about 8 hours each day through the hills of Berkeley. Wonder woman. Need a nanny and in the area?

… as Rustie so eloquently put it.

Apparently the circus is over. We can all now go back to appreciating all that great music without wondering what sad turn of events will be next in Michael Jackson’s incredible career. Sad day. I’m hoping he left the kids to be raised by someone less troubled.

The new American Apparel shiny lame pants are highly coveted by all kids in my house. “I want the purple ones,” says Sylvie. “Ooh, get me the silver ones! No- the blue ones, do they have blue ones?” exclaims Will.

Yes, Mom. Thanks!
Sylvie and I think it rocks.

I had a full garden of baby fruit - (20) cherries, strawberries, (6) blueberries, a tree of lemons, …

And something got there first!

It is Saturday morning, and I’m making banana bread listening to an Apple iTunes Genius composed playlist that I seeded with Led Zepplin’s Going to California. Listening to this poorly composed playlist (Pandora would have created a better mix), it dawned on me that the invention of home recording devices like tape recorders which allowed the invention of the mix tape, must have been ground breaking. Listening to my playlist pulling Allman Brothers, Led Zepplin, Bob Dylan, Ryan Adams, and others, I can’t even imagine a time when people had two choices - to listen to the radio (a playlist composed by advertisers and producers) or single artist records - much less a time long before, when they were lucky to have a hand cranked record player. How much more rich life must be since the dawn of accessible music devices and the home concocted playlist.