That Twinkle Again

As a guide for new readers: I’ve got twins: the boy and the girl who are going on four. They have a little sister, the “Bear” who is going on two.

Today was the twins first day of pre-school. I’ve been talking about it with them, our friends, and in this space for several weeks now. To say that it’s been a major date on our calendar is a whopping understatement. And then, today, here we are.

The kids woke up a bit earlier than normal today. Our alarm was set for 7am, and they were up having their morning playtime by 6:45. We set into our normal morning routine and were in the car by 8:01, with my goal having been 8:00. We had a cushion, so I was happy with 8:01. It only takes 6-9 minutes on average to get to school, so I knew we were in good shape, and would have time to take some pictures.

The kids were excited. We talked on the way over about what school was about, and how to greet the teacher, and that kind of stuff. The parking lot was full of mini-vans and parents in various stages of emotion, and cameras galore, all capturing kids in various stages of emotion themselves. As we all made our way in, the twins did pretty much what I expected them to do, which was put their stuff in their cubbies, and go to sit on the rug by their teacher with nary a thought about me leaving. I told them to “be good and I love you,” and was out the door, pushing their now caterwauling little sister away from the school.

This caterwauling, I must admit was unexpected. Now, I’m not certain what set the little Bear off; it may have been her siblings going somewhere without her. It may have been she wanted out of the stroller, which is pretty common these days, as she’s got “Big-kid-itis” something fierce. I’m not entirely certain it wasn’t a little of both, and that got me thinking what this change really might mean for her. It’s not the first time I had considered that, but with just she and I flying solo, I was able to really focus on that aspect of it for the first time.

I think it may be a good thing for her development, and a potentially challenging thing for their relationships, as this is a “big kid” experience that she can’t really emulate, as she’s been trying to do of late. She tries to use the potty, change her own clothes, refuses to wear diapers, wants to eat in a big kid chair, all at once sometimes. The twins will be at school having experiences that are still two years away from where she is right now. With all of her time of late having been rather tied to what they are doing, now that I think of it, this may be a bigger transition for her than for them. They will be moving away from the day-to-day life we’ve been having, and she and I will have to adjust. This is not to say that the transition for the twins is any less tumultuous: I think it is quite significant. I just had not been able to see how the change would hit any of us until it had done so.

I took the Bear to the YMCA Playmorning program, which is basically an hour of open play followed by a brief circle time. It’s near the pre-school, so it will make for a convenient activity for us on days where I’m not serving as parent helper. She would not ride in her stroller as I had hoped: “No ride” she said. “Walk!“ And, so we did. Perhaps that should have clued me in to what is to come with her. It was a day.

We went to this program quite a bit last year, and were pleased to see some parents and kids that we knew as we arrived. She ran into the room, which is filled with stuff to play with, and then looked around for her brother and sister, calling for them for a few seconds, and then, realizing that she was on her own, set to playing and having an absolute blast both solo and with the other kids.

I, on the other hand had no idea what to do. Typically, I’m keeping my eyes on all three of them at once; “head on a swivel: technique I used to preach to both my soccer and lacrosse teams in the old days. I wouldn’t sit down, as each kid was in a different corner, so I was always on my toes and looking about. Now, um, well, not so much. She went and played. I sat down at the craft table and made a Popsicle stick teddy Bear. She did her thing. She played and checked up on her now and then.

She did something very interesting though, and I’ll be curious to see if it continues: every now and then, she would come find me as if to check up on me. She would come over and kind of rest her head on my leg, look at what I was doing, and then go back to her playing. She played with some of the boys by the cars, and spent a large percentage of her time playing with some of the older girls in the kitchen set area. But she would pop in from time to time and tilt her head at me and say “Hi Daddy!” Then she’d laugh and bop away. There was something in her manner, or maybe it was that unexpected twinkle in her eyes, that reminded me of my father.

I remember Dad acting similarly when I was a kid, at a family party, or even just a long day or the end of season “birch beer” party at the swim club, he’d pop in, check that everything was alright, and go back to where I couldn’t readily see him, but from where, I am now sure, he could monitor everything we were up to. Dad always had that twinkle. She was checking up on me, and truth be told, I’m not sure I didn’t need it.

As I’ve written about here before, I left what I used to do to do this thing with my kids…and as they get older, that thing changes whether or not I’m ready for it. Having worked with kids at every grade level in school, I have to force myself to not over-project and over-analyze what they are doing and who they are. It’s a lot easier to do when they are someone else’s kids.

The Episcopal Bishop of Hawaii gave a sermon a few months back that I really grooved on. I do not know the basis of his research on the points he made, but I found them to be thought-provoking and will share them with you in that manner. He talked about he had read a study that discussed what parents of varying cultures wished for their children as they grew up. He talked about how Asian parents wished for their children to be “successful.” He talked about how American parents wished for their children to be “happy.” He talked about whether or not those were attainable goals for parents. Then he talked about how this study spoke of European parents, Finnish parents in particular (I should have taken notes) and how their wish for their children was for them to be “good.” He talked about how he thought that might be the most achievable goal, and said a lot of other smart things that I don’t remember, but I know that I share a similar goal. I hope my kids will be happy. I hope they will be successful. I want them to be good. I pray that they are good. But they are still developing and growing. It’s hard not to take their success and their failures as anything less than a performance review as a parent, but I know that there’s a lot more to it than that. I guess now that they are all heading towards being big kids, I should let them check up on me. It’s been an odd few days. I was essentially just “there” at Playmornings with the Bear, and that level of the Familial Mathematics was odd for me.

But, if I’m going to be honest, I’m only now finishing this on Wednesday August 6, a full day after their monumental first day of school. Truth be told, as I look towards tomorrow, I’m going to take the Bear to the library story time, by ourselves for the first time. It’s been a big adjustment, and one that has tapped into not only my own sense of self worth and value as a parent, but our sense as a family of what we are working towards and where we have come from and to, being "way out there" as has been said recently.

I’d like my kids to be “good.” And, I’d like them to look out for one another. Just check the recent "Turd" entry to see my thoughts on that.

While it’s only one day, I’d like to think that I saw some things about who my kids are and who they might be.

Honestly though, I never thought I’d see that twinkle again.