My girls are bothering me. Rachael and Hannah are 13 months apart and are thick as thieves. Best friends they are. Deborah, 4 years younger, is the bothersome sister. She wants to be in their exclusive club and they are, at least today, adamantly opposed to her inclusion.
Last summer taught me in no uncertain terms that the girls have outgrown our backyard. It served as THE backyard in the neighborhood for 7 years. Our treehouse is a "treehouse par excellance." It's pretty amazing; 3 stories it has, all made by Gordon.
I miss the summer days or yester-year. The girls use to be out on the swing set before breakfast and we'd have to call them in for evening baths. I could always keep a watchful eye on them, as they were always visible from the kitchen window.
Rachael has outgrown many of her eccentric ways, but from 3-6 years old, she was nothing less than eccentric. She always wanted a ball cap on, a particular ball cap, and she always wore a t-shirt under her shirt. In 90 degree weather, I'd plead with her, "you'd be much cooler if you'd take one of those shirts off." She'd counter with, "I don't like the feel of that."
She was very amusing. She'd hit the backdoor every morning and run across the yard screaming "AAAAWWWW" all the way to the swings. It was like she hadn't seen a swing for years -- a brand new treat every morning.
The neighbor children that frequented our yard brought an element of worldliness to my children's sheltered lives. Amera, from next door, danced like an exotic dancer at 5 years old. Her heroes were Brittany Spears and the Spice Girls. I watched as she lined the girls up to play like they were the Spice Girls. Amera was Posh Spice and Rachael was assigned the role of Scary Spice. Amera would give the orders like a drill sergeant and Rachael and Hannah listened like obedient subordinates. Exasperated, Amera barked, "Rachael, you're supposed to be Scary!" Suddenly Rachael understood. She crouched slightly, put on the most intimidating face she could conjure, extended her arms and fingers like talons, and let out a vicious growl. She knew how to be scary, just not Scary Spice. Amera threw down her feathered mane and yelled, "you're no fun, I'm going home."
Amera has outgrown my girls and I'm not crying the blues over that. She's into music, make-up, and looking at teen magazines. My girls are keen on activity. They crave constant movement and activity. They have outgrown the backyard fun (at least they don't play in the backyard all day, everyday). Now they want to go places. Summers are not as easy as they use to be.
Fortunately, Edmonton is phenomenal for activities for families. Last night we went to City Hall pool and played there. When the girls had their fill of that, we walked across the street to Churchill Square for the Arts Show. We watched 2 bands, an African band that was very drum oriented. It was a cultural experience in and of itself. The second band was a soft rock/country band called "Roll of 9." One of their songs was called
It Ain't Right. They wrote it, I think, to protest the war in Iraq. As they sang it, I was struck by how life is amazingly paradoxical. During this song meant to expose wrong, a man danced shamelessly right beneath the stage. I wondered, and doubted, if he even heard the words to the song. "...While the homeless and hungry are at our door. It ain't right," they sang. Meanwhile across Churchill Square, I watched a homeless man in a small sea of people eating funnel cakes, nachos, and ice cream cones. By this time, I knew the song well enough to hum along, "it ain't right." That experience has remained in my thoughts.
My kids are calling me. This time to mediate a dispute over who is responsible for the mess in the garage. No doubt Rachael and Hannah will blame Deborah (and they are probably correct as Deborah is the pig of the family :-)) and Deborah will deny all involvement in said mess. Me, I'm just glad to be home.
Labels: Deborah, edmonton, Hannah, Rachael
