Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Aug 3, 2004, Beth’s age: 7

Beth is a tough nut to crack, but she’s even harder to read. The lead into the new school year had all the emotion of a new pair of socks. (What do I have against socks? Why am I picking on socks in general? As a child, I was permanently scarred by the cruel and unusual gift of socks on Christmas morning.) It was so unlike my experience. I remember the first day of elementary school with all the fondness of replacing a Mac with a Dell. Yet, I remember the first days of a new term at UF with eager anticipation. These were two very different experiences, but they had one thing in common: emotion, a commitment to one side of the wellbeing spectrum or the other. Surely Beth feels something about the big first day?

“So Beth, how do you feel about the first day of second grade?”
“I dunno.”

“Are you nervous?”
“I guess so.”

“Are you excited about meeting your new teacher?”
“Not really.”

“Have you now, or have you ever, committed to one emotion in particular concerning your scholastic career?”
“Huh?”

I haven’t decided if that last question was too sugar coated with sarcasm for my own good.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jun 18, 2004, Beth’s age: 6 (almost 7)

Death? Taxes? The Yankees wining another World Series? A six year old child with an attention deficit, a pinch of hyperactivity, and a bow and arrow?

Yes, Beth had a busy day on Wednesday. I was picking her up from camp and her group leader was explaining all of the activities they participated in that day. They started with a hike through a local park, followed by some canoeing, another hike, swimming at the pool, and an archery class.

Beth’s group leader was running down the laundry list of activities while I was packing up Beth’s stuff, preparing to herd her out the door. Growing up with two sisters, I have a well honed talent for tuning people out. It is my blessing and my curse. As a result, I didn’t realize Beth’s group leader had used the word “archery” until I was pulling up the driveway at my house.

Surely they weren’t using real arrows. I guess we’ll never know, unless we’re served with papers.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Apr 6, 2004, Beth’s age: 6

Recently my daughter told me I say “no” too much.

I told her there was a simple solution to her problem: she should ask questions she thinks might have a different answer.