New Photos

The Wacky Wednesday photo is just a taste--I have a new album of photos of from April and May (short version: lots of time spent at various zoos). Check it out here (and you can find it in the menu on the right as well).

Butterfly (Briefly)

Not her typical preschool uniform

Thursday was Fiona's last day of preschool -- she's all done with the caterpillar class and is ready to move into the butterfly class for next year. Except that we won't be living in New York next year (this is as good a place as any to mention that we're relocating down to Florida), so other than a two week summer session in early July pre-move, Fiona's not really going to see much of the butterfly classroom. Her disappointment won't last long; she gets to go to preschool at the zoo next year (yes, for real).

Her disappointment will last a little longer when she realizes she's not going to see the friends she made at preschool in New York again. Kids at her age bounce back pretty quickly (I moved at the same age and don't remember the names of anybody in my first year of preschool, although I'm sure my parents could pipe up here). Still, it's been fun watching her make friends and talk incessantly at home about all the things she does at school with Kayla and Estela (on either side of Fiona in the picture above, taken on Wacky Wednesday in April when all the kids got to wear pajamas to school).

Andrea and I only visited the school together with Fiona on three days (not counting parent-teacher conferences): the first day of school, her birthday, and the last day. On the first day she was thrilled to be starting school but quickly gave way to terror when she realized she was in an unfamiliar place and didn't know anybody.

On the last day, we stopped by with Nana in tow (Nana now has Fiona out in San Diego as we prepare for an overseas trip, but that's really a different post). Fiona grabbed hold of Nana and excitedly gave her the full tour of their classroom, showing the kitchen, science station, etc. It was more of a tour than I ever got from her (there's nothing special about Daddy stopping by preschool), but it was great to contrast the difference between the first and last day.

We had good hopes for the school but it really exceeded all of our expectations, and Fiona has really taken to the class structure (circle time is a daily highlight). I'm not sorry to be opting out of the NY City schools game (you can get a good education for your kid, but it requires constant vigilance), but the one year we did deal with it paid off spectacularly well.

Independence

Fiona is old enough now to want to do just about everything for herself (well, except clean up after herself). We have to leave the room when she gets into the bath because She Can Do It Herself. Don't you dare open the lid to the toothpaste, not when She Can Do It Herself. Don't help her with the buckle on her sandals: She Can Do It Herself. You get the idea.

Of course, there are also things that Fiona insists she can do that we're certainly NOT going to let her do, which leads to inevitable meltdowns. While I was installing the air conditioner in the living room last week Fiona wanted to put the wood blocks out on the ledge. With pictures of myself having to hop a fence to get into the alley below running through my mind, I refused. She didn't take it well.

And let's not even get started on all those times she's wanted to help with dinner when we're still in the chopping onions phase of preparation.

This morning she told me (not for the first time) that she wanted to walk to preschool by herself. I refused and she asked why she couldn't. I told her that she was too young to be crossing the street by herself.

"But David walks to preschool by himself!" she replied.

David is 3 1/2 and seems it. Your typical 3 1/2 year old can get lost figuring out how to get from the carpet to the linoleum. I told Fiona I found that hard to believe.

"He does! I saw him!" she replied.

I know I'm going to enjoy these days, when the white lies are so flimsy. Somehow I doubt that when she's 15 she'll try to convince me to extend curfew by telling me one of her friends gets to go out on Friday night and is fine as long as he checks in by sometime on Sunday.

Because I Said So

I only say those words to Fiona because I've already explained the logic behind my decision to her and her resistance proves that she hasn't yet reached the cognitive maturity to grasp the perfection of my reasoning.

When my parents used to say those words it was because their decisions were capricious and couldn't have withstood logical scrutiny under my cross-examination.

Totally different situation.