MamaPie

Ezra's Nature Table

Fact Finding Mission

While Andrew as putting Reuben to sleep last night, Ezra and I took Baloo on a short walk to the mailbox: 2 blocks down our street. During our walk - summer night, Ezra shirtless, lots of neighbors out - Ezra found out lots of things. Such as:

1. Who our friend Dave was talking to: his wife's brother Noah
2. What they were talking about: "singing out loud, having fun, life."
3. What our friend Kathy was doing: bringing out her recycling.
4. Where Dawn's daughter Lola was: "inside, changing her clothes."
5. Why Lola was changing her clothes: "so she can help her dad wash the truck."
6. Why Linda parked on the street instead of her driveway: "because it's garbage day tomorrow."
7. What Peter was doing: "changing a flat tire."

He found out all these things from friends and neighbors of all ages (Kathy is 67, Linda is about 50, Dave is 35) in his characteristic friendly and direct way. That he is curious about, and observant of, the world around him is an enormous understatement. He's always been this way - our sweet green-eyed boy - and I only hope the world around him continues to be as friendly, receptive to and delighted by his questions as our kind neighbors are.

What Lasts

Ezra is done with kindergarten. In Waldorf world, this means he is done with his "early childhood" education, that consisted of two years of parent-child classes, a year of nursery and two years of kindergarten. He will begin his journey of "the grades" in September: one big class with one teacher who will all be together for the next seven years.

We said goodbye to Miss Anne Marie when Ezra started in the Rose Kindergarten. And now, we say goodbye to Miss Sonia. Miss Sonia with her converse sneakers underneath her flowing Waldorf-y dresses and aprons, with her French accent and "grandmother" stories; with her little bird Lamouche, who would tell the children what they needed to wear to go outside each day ("Rain everything", usually), with her strong, wise and kind ways.

We say goodbye to the Rose Kindergarten, with it's woodshop and gold coins, it's houses built each day by the children, inside which they would sit and talk about football while finger-knitting. Goodbye to the dragon tears and the daily stories, rest times, songs and blessings. Ezra dutifully, and happily, did his early childhood days, and now he gets to use other parts of his mind, parts that have been patiently waiting while he grew his roots and did his eurthythmy in his little white ballet slippers. He gets to learn about concrete things: letters, numbers, music, handwork. He will get to write in a "main lesson book" and learn Spanish and German. And all of these new places in his brain that will be lighting up and delighting in concrete knowledge will all be supported by layers of beeswax and yarn, sheepskins and songs, feathers, fairytales and sand.

Tender Boys

On two consecutive days last week, Ezra and Reuben burst into tears. Not the whining kind of fakey crying (which we also get plenty of), but serious crying, with plump wet tears streaming down their beautiful faces.

Ezra's cry came about at the beginning of the New York Jets game, where they were playing the Pittsburgh Steelers for a chance in the Super Bowl. Andrew is a lifelong diehard Jets fan and this year, it seems, that fandom has reached a third generation of the Cohen family in Ezra (Andrew's father is also a huge fan). While the world of football holds no resonance for me (I literally do not know how the game is played) I have watched as Ezra has grown to understand the game, to speak the language of football with fluency and to feel a strong team allegiance to those New York J-E-T-S.

So last Sunday, about ten minutes after Ezra and Andrew went down to the basement to begin watching the game, I was suprised when Ezra came running up to the kitchen (my usual post during football games), ran into my arms and started sobbing. "I'm so scared," he said "about the Jets." I held him, this sweet six-year-old boy with milky skin and pink cheeks, as he cried big and hard. And then he wanted to go back down and watch again.

The Jets lost, and he was okay and we made it through his first football season.

Reuben's cry came the next day after we had spent some time reading books, sharing a bagel and drinking warm drinks (for him, a vanilla steamer, for me, a rice chai) at our neighborhood coffee shop. When he's done with his drink, Reuben always likes to carry his mug up to the counter and give it to whomever is working. On this day, he had more things than usual to carry: our friend Kim had given him his steamer in a little teacup, complete with a saucer and a spoon. He diligently arranged all these items and carried them slowly and carefully up to the counter. Just as he was handing them to the Kim, the teacup toppled off the saucer and shattered. "Sorry," Ruby managed to say solemnly, before turning to me and sobbing, inconsolably, for a full five minutes. His feeling that he had made a mistake, that he had done something wrong and felt so badly for having done so reminded me, in the same way that Ezra's fear and overwhelm about the football game had, of the deep innocence and tenderness of these boy-creatures that I have been entrusted to raise, to help, to teach, to love - and reminded me (yet again) of how honored I am to be sharing my days with them: with the tears, the laughter and everything in between.

 

The Birthday Party

We tried to keep it really simple: invite only five friends, serve healthy snacks, have some basic games, tell an interactive story, so how did it end with seven kids (two younger siblings were there, too) running around tackling each other and the living room looking like we had just hosted a fraternity party? I do not know. I'm still trying to figure it out, so that next year's party can feel a little less chaotic. Maybe being outdoors so that these full-of-energy kids can really move?

A few things that were pretty neat about the party anyways:

• Magic Wands: for the art project, I collected medium thick sticks, which Andrew then cut and drilled small holes in the ends. I tied a shimmery ribbon through the holes and then the kids whittled the sticks (with a vegetable peeler), sanded them and decorated them with modge podge that I mixed with pink and silver glitter and gold and silver tissue paper. The finishing touch was an acorn top that I filled with glue and gold glitter that we glued onto the end of each wand. They were totally beautiful.
• the snacks: it is pretty cute to see seven little boys sitting around a table excitedly eating a snack of celery chunks, pomegranate seeds, peanuts and cinnamon pears.
• The Birthday Boy, of course:

This Boy

• turned six a few days ago.
• proclaimed yesterday, "The most beautiful day of my whole life!"
• cries (big, real, fat tears) pretty much every day.
• cannot resist listening intently to a book being read; even if it is the most baby of baby books.
• is a total hot rod on his bike (zooming down the block with no hands is his latest trick).
• has a singing voice like an angel.
• is completely adored by his mama, papa and little brother.

More Jam

This time with the little guy helping too.

Scooping out the honey/pectin mixture is a sticky job.

More evidence of my oft-repeated guideline for happy, fun cooking with kids: make peace with the mess.

But, hey, you can always follow the group cooking with some group cleaning (where the guideline is make peace with the inefficiency and make peace with the fact that you may have do some of it again, solo, at another time).

And then...proud:

Laundry Treasures

A typical collection of objects found in my washing machine after doing a load of Ezra's laundry:

 

Treasure Hunting

Ezra is a treasure hunter - and a treasure finder. He's always scanning the ground, the grass or the beach for things that catch his eye and, often, his cries of, "Wait Mama! I just have to go see what that is," are followed by the proud display of: a small bees nest, a crystal or a quarter.Quarters are a huge deal over here these days ever since I found Ezra a quarter map at the Goodwill. Not the regular Goodwill, mind you, but the hardcore Goodwill, known to those brave enough to venture there as "The Bins".
The Bins are the Portland Goodwill Outlet Store and they are about a mile from our home, between our house and Ezra's school. They are where I have been doing lots of my own treasure hunting over the past several weeks. Not for the faint of heart (there is lots of lore about the disgusting things people have found while pawing through the bins), the bins is a huge warehouse filled with, well, bins on wheels. Every twenty minutes or so a new bin is wheeled out - people line up and wait for the new bin to be parked in front of them - filled with anything and everything. Things I have seen in bins include sheets, plates, baskets, toys, crayons, scooters, Christmas ornaments, books, towels, bed pans, diapers (unused, although bins mythology reports that people have found used diapers), cameras, electrical cords, a pogo stick, shells, beads, shoes and sunglasses. Of all these things, some are very grungy and some are unbelievably nice. 

It takes patience, creativity and a good eye to find treasures in the bins, but my son has taught me well and, like him, I've been finding treasures in unexpected places.

Reading about Sand & Shells

Skipping Spring entirely, we're moving from our books about snow and winter holidays to books about sea creatures, shells and the beach. Inspired by our Hawaiian vacation, Ezra's imagination is completely captivated by the sea. Yesterday, until I finally told him I didn't want to answer any more questions, he asked me question after question like this," Mama? Which would you be more scared of? A lobster, a crab or an eel?" (eel). "What about a shark, a jellyfish or a stingray?" (shark). And so on.

So, when I found Elisha Cooper's Beach at the library, it seemed like the perfect book for right now. And it was. Ezra (and I) totally loved it and wanted to read it again immediately after I finished the first reading.

Do you have any favorite beach books?