by Heather Plett | Nov 20, 2006 | Uncategorized
She’s rarely the first to do anything. She wasn’t the first one to walk, talk, or ride a bike. She rarely got marveled over in that “wow – look at that – one of our OWN offspring is capable of all that” way. Her older sister beat her to that honour. She’s also not the last one to do anything. She’s not the one whose baby cuteness is held onto for as long as possible because there will be no more of it after she’s done. She’s never had her cute toddler sayings recorded for posterity on her mom’s blog. That would be her little sister’s place.
She’s the one in between – the one who is not celebrated for being first or last. She’s the one the birth order experts say is most often overlooked. Sometimes, the birth order experts are right.
She’s my daughter Julie, the in-between child. Though she is marvelous in her own way, she rarely gets the spotlight for being a marvel. It’s true, I know it, because I am often the most guilty of overlooking her.
Last week when I wrote this post about Nikki and then this one about Maddie I saw it happen once again. Julie got overlooked. It’s not on purpose – it just happens that way.
So the express purpose of this post is to marvel at my in-between girl.
Perhaps part of the reason I tend to overlook Julie is that, in many ways, she is the most like me. In the good ways and the not-so-good. She is smart, stubborn, adventurous, disorganized, spontaneous, fun-loving, opinionated, and easily distracted. She loves to do things her own way and rarely gives up until I let her try. (You’d think I’d know by now that I should just let her try the first time she asks instead of engaging in a battle of the wills, but I’m a slow learner. Plus I’m just as stubborn as she is.) She loves to cook, but she does NOT want to be Mom’s helper – she wants to be Mom’s BOSS. She bakes cakes by herself and has even cooked a meal or two. (And she’s only nine.)
She is a whiz-kid at school. Few things challenge her. She told me the other day that she’d never made a spelling mistake on a test, and I’m inclined to believe her. When she’s supposed to do homework, she asks “Mom, what’s the point, if I get all the answers right the first time I try?” She has a point. I’ve often said that she didn’t “learn” to read, she just “absorbed” it. One day she couldn’t read and the next day she was reading novels. She read ALL of the Harry Potter books by the time she was eight years old. (Okay, so that’s not QUITE true – the last one came out a month after her eighth birthday and by about 4 days after she’d bought it with her birthday money, she’d finished it.) She often reads a novel per night – we have a hard time keeping her in books. There are many, many nights when I’m on my way to bed that I have to remind her “Julie – it’s time to turn out the light now.” As I do it, I’m reminded of the same gentle tone my dad used when he’d say the same thing to me. Readers tend to understand readers.
Julie LOVES to play games. That’s one of the few ways that she’s not like me – or any other member of the family. She begs and pleads the rest of us to play games, and once in awhile we agree, but not nearly as often as she’d like. Nobody else cares much for games, other than Maddie whose games are at a slightly different level. (Too bad we don’t live closer to ap or grandma – we’d send her over to one of their houses for game night now and then.)
When there’s fun to be had, Julie is often first in line. If I’m looking for a fun, spontaneous family thing to do on the weekend, I usually turn to Julie as my first ally because she’ll almost always be game. Yesterday, when she was looking through the paper and saw all the fun things going on all over the city because of the Grey Cup, she said “Mom, let’s make it our goal today to not be at home ALL DAY.” A girl after my own heart. The whole family ended up at The Forks because of Julie’s nudging.
Some day, I can imagine myself travelling the world with Julie. What fun it will be to don a backpack and head out on an adventure with my marvelous fun-loving daughter!
This is not the best picture I have of her, but I like the way her personality shines through. The slight sneer on her lips is pure Julie.
by Heather Plett | Nov 18, 2006 | Uncategorized
Sometimes the spirit comes gently, riding a summer breeze, waiting on the side of a mountain stream, or curling up on the couch like a comfortable friend. On those times, the spirit waits unobtrusively for us to answer the beckoning, rest from our travels, and find solace.
Sometimes the spirit comes boldly and powerfully, shaking the rafters with energy, shouting from the mountaintops, and crashing with lightning from the sky. On those times, the spirit defies us to ignore the power and presence of something much greater than any of us.
Last night was one of the latter. Last night, the spirit crashed into the room, riding the musical power of an orchestra, wafting upon the intricacies of Steve Bell’s voice, and shouting boldly “Listen! This is important. Awake from your slumber and know that I am here!”
Wow! What can I say about such an incredible night? I’ve been a fan of Steve Bell for a long time, have been to several concerts, and have even been blessed to become his friend, but I have NEVER been moved by any musical night as much as I was last night. Remember a few weeks ago when I said my soul had fallen asleep? Well, it has definitely been awakened.
We sat in the front row (no, they’re not the expensive seats – they’re actually considered lower end because you’re beneath stage level – I got tickets late and that was almost all that was left), and the energy in the concert hall was palpable. It felt like you could reach out and touch the spirit as it moved through the room. We couldn’t see much of the orchestra from where we sat, so I don’t know if they were all grinning, but I can certainly tell you that Steve and his band were having the time of their lives. Their faces glowed with energy, and it was contagious. I think there were grins all over the room.
Each song got a little better than the one before. Just when I thought “oh, this one is definitely my favourite”, they’d play the next one and it would get even better. In the end, I think my favourite arrangements were Deep Calls to Deep, Dark Night of the Soul, and Moon over Berknau. Wow! What made Moon over Berknau even better was Steve’s incredible ability to craft a story and draw us into his world.
When Steve recorded a cd of Bruce Cockburn songs last year, he talked about how a song doesn’t really belong to one person, even if that person wrote it. He said that Bruce’s songs had become his own because of how they impacted his life. Last night, I think Steve’s songs became everyone’s. I sat closest to the pianist Mike Janzen (who also wrote the score for the orchestra) and it was clear that the songs belonged to him as much as to Steve. I think the audience, like me, would agree – these songs are no longer just Steve’s. They are ours because of the way they have changed us. Thank you Steve.
There were times last night when the awakening of the soul was almost more than I could bear. I could feel it in every part of my body and sometimes my eyes involuntarily filled with tears. The wakening of the soul awakened the muse, and my own words of poetry flowed through me as I closed my eyes and listened.
What an amazing night! I am so glad I was there. Now I feel like I need to honour the spirit and create something myself…
by Heather Plett | Nov 17, 2006 | Uncategorized
Almost as though she understood how monumental yesterday’s event was in the journey of a mother with daughters, and almost as though she knew the pace of change sometimes steals my breath away, Maddie climbed up next to me on the couch last night, curled up inside my arms, and promptly fell asleep. It’s not often anymore that I get to hold a sleeping child in my arms. Too quickly they move from vulnerable sleeping babies to blossoming young women.
Last night, I held my sleeping baby for a long time. I buried my face in her hair and held on tight until, eventually, her daddy carried her to bed.
She’s still my little girl and I will savour these moments for as long as I can.
Tonight, as if to further prove she’s not all grown up yet, she danced around the house – first in her “Angels in Training” shirt and then later, before her bath, buck naked. At one point, as she flashed her private parts to her daddy, she saw him flinch and asked “Daddy, are you overwhelmed with vaginas?” I covered my mouth and hid my face so she wouldn’t see me giggling. (Yes, as he looks forward to three daughters in puberty, I think he’s feeling a little overwhelmed with vaginas.)
Incidentally, she firmly believes her shirt says “Monkey in training.” I haven’t made any effort to correct her. Seems more appropriate somehow. (And in case you’re wondering what’s all over her shirt, it seems she was enjoying the play doh at day care today.)
by Heather Plett | Nov 16, 2006 | Uncategorized
Today my oldest daughter took a huge step in the journey toward womanhood. She made me promise not to blog about the specifics, so I won’t go into the details, but you can guess what that “big step” is.
I look at her and I am in awe. In awe of her beauty, her strength, her wisdom, and her growth. She christened me “mother” and has walked with me in the journey ever since. Only when she becomes a mother herself will she understand how much her journey has impacted my own. Only then will she catch a glimpse of how much she has changed me and molded me.
Today heralds a new journey – one that could be rocky sometimes with hormones and teenage angst. I think she’s ready for it though. She has always been wise beyond her years, and if today is any indication, she will accept the changes with a healthy measure of pride, strength, and determination.
Instead of going to a church meeting tonight, I took my beautiful daughter on a date. We ate cheesecake at Baked Expectations, smiled at each other alot, talked about everything from the silly boys in her class to the way her body is changing. I am blessed and honoured to be called her mother.
I love the above picture of her with her little cousin, because it shows the beautiful young woman she is becoming. When she carries little Abigail, I catch a glimpse of the woman she will grow into.
I am excited about her journey. She is already incredible, and I know that she will blossom into a beautiful, strong woman. May I be worthy of the task of guiding her.
by Heather Plett | Nov 15, 2006 | Uncategorized
I’m not particularly fond of the new report cards the girls brought home this term. The school division invested a whole truckload of money in a new reporting system, and in my humble opinion, they could have left their money in the bank.
When I look over Nikki and Julie’s report cards (that came home in fancy expensive folders with high-end brochures to explain them), you could swear they are almost identical girls. Anyone who knows them can vouch for the fact that they are NOT. Yet, the report cards reveal so little real information, I’m sure 95% of the students in the school come out looking like cookie cutter models of each other.
One of the reasons for the change is to separate their academic achievement from their social skills. On the front of the report card, there are about 10 boxes related to their social/interpersonal levels. These boxes are marked with an “M” for “meets expectations” or a “D” for “developing”. I suppose they were trying to move away from levels (excellent, good, fair, etc.), so that young students won’t feel overly judged or categorized, but to me, it just means that all students come out homogenous. Where is the motivation to work hard, if you come out looking like every other student? It’s not working for me.
On the back, where they focus on academics, they have no quantitative marking system whatsoever. Instead, they just have comment boxes, that include so much rhetoric, my head began to spin. “Nicole has a grasp on mathematical concepts.” “Julie can process information successfully.” What does that MEAN?
I don’t know much about child psychology or educational models or formative or summative marking systems (Marcel used those last words – apparently he’s learning something in all those university classes he’s taking!), but I do know that both Nikki and Julie were disappointed with their report cards. It was clear that neither of them feel motivated to work harder if there isn’t some indication that their efforts are worth it. Are we encouraging our kids to strive for mediocrity?
Nikki was particularly disappointed. She said to me a few weeks ago, “Mom, you know how my first report card of the year is always a little lower than the ones later in the year? Well, this year, I think it will be better, because I’m doing really well this year.” She has a new-found confidence about school, (which makes me so happy, because I’ve wiped away too many tears in the past) but I wouldn’t say that these report cards did anything to feed that confidence.
Julie, on the other hand, is a gifted student who told me the other day that she has never made a spelling mistake on a test (she’s in grade 4). It’s probably true, though I can’t verify it. This is the kid who devours books – reads one almost every night from cover to cover. Few things challenge her academically. Yet, if you read her report card, you’d think she was an average student.
Anyone care to comment? I know there are some educators who read this – perhaps you have some insight that I’m missing. Perhaps report cards really aren’t that important in the grand scheme of things. Who knows?
