One year of piano lessons nearly complete!

You rock Mrs. McGarry!!!!!!

Money Manager

One of Bea's birthday presents was a Moonjar bank, which has three different compartments: SPEND, SHARE, and SAVE.  She now has paydays during which she is required to put money in each section, thus learning about and having to make decisions with money.  Her school often has Dress Down Friday during which $1 is collected from students toward a specified charity.  I told her she must use funds from her SHARE money if she wants to not wear her uniform.  Most weeks she's happily done so, but last week she decided "I don't mind my uniform, I'll just keep the dollar."  I thought she'd change her mind in the morning, which she didn't.  Then I thought she'd have a big case of regret when I picked her up Friday and she was literally the only child in the school wearing a uniform, but she had no problem and took such joy in knowing she was $1 richer than she'd have been otherwise.  Cracked me up.  The other nice thing that came out of having her own money is that she decided, long ago actually, that she wanted to treat Pepere to dinner at 99 Restaurant, the local place where he treats us a couple Sundays each month.  Bea has asked back in April if she could use some of her upcoming anticipated birthday money to do that, and we agreed that she certainly could.  When she did indeed get money, she reminded me that some of it was going to "treat Pepere" and we thought maybe Father's Day would be a good choice. Well, this past weekend Pepere invited us out and Beatrice announced that she wanted to treat him.  I reminded her about Father's Day or some other occasion, but she said "I just want to give him a gift."  She cleaned out her SPEND section, all $14 of it, and brought it to the restaurant and told Pepere.  Honestly, I don't think my Dad has been moved by anything in a very long time.  It's all he can talk about to anyone he sees.  I'm so proud of her, and equally impressed that she isn't telling anyone about it.  Generous and humble...two good traits that I hope she continues!

On the way to NYC

Spread

"Spread" is the first word my daughter has read.  Actually read, as in sounded it out, made sound/symbol connections.  It was in a one-word-per-page book (Pizza, by Saturnino Romay, found in a discard pile at school and I snatched it up because the author shared my father-in-law's first name).  We've read it a few times and she's memorized it, but she'd forgotten the word and the picture wasn't jogging her memory, so she looked at that word, at its first letter, and started "ssssss..."  She'd never gotten beyond this point before, nor had I even suggested it.  Then I heard her say "pppppp,"  "ssssppppp,"  "spread!" The look on her face is one I'll ever forget.  The incredulous look that she actually made sense of those shapes on a page.  There's nothing like it, when they start to crack that code.  Oh, she's a ways off from really reading, but I've noticed the past month or so she is asking all the time what things say, what word that is, etc.  She wants it so badly, my little bookworm, who has often said she'd choose books over toys if she ever had to make that choice. I am so excited for her to begin this journey and pray that it comes easily to her.

Daily Ritual

     Once in a while I'm keenly aware that things I take for granted on a daily basis may some day soon disappear, leaving me to forget those little rituals that are for now a big part of my day.  This morning at school drop-off, I had such a revelation.  Beatrice has often "fussed" at drop-off over the past year and a half.  Last year she would cry, then this year there would be a desperation grip or a whiny statement like "I waaaaant youuuuuuu."  The teachers reassured me that she always is absolutely fine once I leave, so I've tried to make the separation as quick as possible and head out the door, for both our sakes.  The past couple of months, she came up with a ritual that seems to satisfy her, and gives me a chuckle:  She holds her hands out for me to put a kiss in each of her palms (a la "The Kissing Hand"), she transfers each hand to each cheek, then she puts kisses in my hand, she asks for "Huggie!", then I turn around with my back to her at the doorway and she pushes me out the door like she can't stand another second with me.  I don't how she developed this, but it was on her own and it's been like this for several weeks.

    As I drove away I thought of the quote "I told you I loved you, now get out!"  My mom would often say this to me when I would hug her.  It was unlike her to be sarcastic, but I loved it.  It occurred to me that Beatrice's re-enactment is an expression of this quote.  So often she reminds me of my mother, it's amazing. The worst part is that I think this quote is from a movie or there's some story connected to it, but a google searched came up empty-handed and I can't call Mom today to learn the origin. Once again, I rely on this blog for Beatrice to have a written/photographic record of some of the mundane and important things of her life that she may someday long to know.