Renaissance Boy

Steven, playing clarinet while sitting in his favorite tree.

Steven, playing clarinet while sitting in his favorite tree.

I’ve been bragging on Facebook about my daughter a lot lately, so today it’s my son’s turn in the spotlight. He’s very bright, a little quirky, and he waves the geek flag very proudly. He’s a mostly straight-A student, who plays the clarinet, has made a point to get over the feeling of stage fright because he loves dancing, singing and acting, and he can go head-to-head with his math geek math teacher at chess, and win.

What I did not know, until yesterday, is that he is also a budding poet. He has an assignment in his Language Arts class to create a book of his favorite poems. He can include stuff from famous poets, stuff he’s read in class, and even people he knows or his own poems. So he decided yesterday to write a poem of his own. And he sat down, and did this, in almost no time.

Perhaps he has a future as a greeting card writer? Maybe…. when he’s done writing mathematical theorems or starring in this one-man off-off-Broadway show.

THE FOUR SEASONS

Spring, a time of new beginnings,
A time for life and a time for living,
The time when the new bird sings,
With flowers, bees, all sorts of things!
With pollen stirring through the air,
Oh, springtime! So wonderful and fair.

Summer’s next, coming with overwhelming heat,
When the kids run around the fields with just their bare feet,
And the greatest way to stay refreshed and cool,
Is just relaxing by the pool.
The little kids play without a care,
It’s summertime! With plenty of heat to share.

Next is fall, or autumn if you’d please
When the wind blows, and leaves fall with ease,
With colors of red, brown, and orange,
Oh, I forgot! Nothing rhymes with orange!
Piles of leaves stacked up so tall and fair,
It is fall! And people celebrate everywhere.

Last is winter, which is when you hear
Yuletide carols from through the years,
For it’s the season of giving, and you should know,
That it is Christmas, with the ground covered in snow.
The year is nearly gone, but do not despair,
A new year is coming, with a new hope and a new prayer.

By: Steven Day

Bring on the Band…

Teen Daughter, tooting flute

Teen Daughter, tooting flute

Just had to say, my camera KICKS BUTT.

I was sitting in the very back of our large community theater. My daughter, the one with the blue hair, was a small speck of a kid on the stage. And THIS, this photo? From my seat, all the way to her, with NO flash.

Not bad, eh?

Oh. And neither was the concert. Festival’s this Friday, and my fingers are crossed.

Meet the Day Family

This week is Spring Break for my kids. They’ve had fun, and they’ve had their share of squabbles. And come Monday, it’ll all be over, and back to normal routines of school, homework, and more reasonable bedtimes.

Luckily, my son is rarely bored. We’re constantly after him to keep his Legos picked up, and most of the time it’s a losing battle. Our living room carpet is literally a sea of plastic bits that probably came from some Star Wars themed fighting ship, and are always poised to be transformed into something else every day.

Well, today, he surprised us with this. Meet the Day Family!

The Day Family in Legos

The Day Family in Legos

Left to right are Steven, Diana, John and Trish. Aren’t we a good looking bunch?

I am especially tickled with the detail and time he took with LegoTrish.

LegoTrish

LegoTrish

This is me, in my wheelchair, which he custom made. In my hands I am doing some sort of needlework, which was another touch he thought of by himself. (“Sorry, mommy, I could only find one knitting needle!”)

We’ve always taught our kids that my wheelchair is a part of me, and that it is not something which is a hindrance, but a tool that makes it possible for me to participate in life. I am their mom, and I just happen to be in a wheelchair. It’s not big news at our house, but it is such an integrated part of who I am that with every picture my kids have ever drawn of me, it is obvious that I am in a wheelchair.

So, it would be only right that the Lego Family would have a mom in a wheelchair, too… even if Lego wheelchairs don’t exist and 8-year-old boys have to stick them together with odd bits and pieces. And he did a pretty darn good job, too! Here’s a side view, for you wheelchair geeks.

LegoTrish side view

LegoTrish side view

Not bad, eh?

14, And One to Grow On…

Diana soaking up the sun on a happy day

Diana soaking up the sun on a happy day

At the risk of sounding mushy, I’m going to tell you that 14 years ago tonight, almost to the very moment of this writing, I became a mother. That moment, at the sound of her first cry, on what was a snowy night in March, was so much more than the realization of a lifelong dream. It was EVERY dream. Practically the only thing I ever wanted in my whole life. And there she was, pink-faced and perturbed that we disturbed her napping with the business of being born. The enormity of the moment thankfully didn’t hit me just then, but eventually it did… that I would be completely and utterly responsible for the well-being of someone other than myself. That not only would I have to keep her fed and warm and clean and dry, but that also I would have to teach her things, and help her find her way through this life that is becoming more and more complicated.

Would I be up to the challenge? To help this little, wriggling girl know the difference between right and wrong, and to help her make good choices? Would I be able to share my knowledge with her without passing on the guilt of my own mistakes?

Would I forget to be so serious all the time, and teach her how to laugh? Would I teach her that the most wonderful places in the world are the ones you conjure up in your imagination? Would I show her how to be curious without being afraid?

Fourteen years ago, as all these things were crossing my mind, I could not imagine being here. Fourteen years on, with a daughter who now towers far above my head, but has the shyness of a child. One who is a giggling schoolgirl and an old soul all at once. We are a work in progress, she and I, and only time will tell me if I have done well. I think so, though, and so far I am very proud that of all the daughters in the world, God gave me this one. I am truly lucky.

Happy birthday, sweet girl. I love you.

Jumping for Joy

Jumping for Joy