September Visit in D.C.

            Our plane lands in Baltimore. We are eager to be on our way to Washington DC so we can surprise Austin and pick him up after school.  We haven’t done this since last school year. An Uber car takes us to 15^thStreet N.E. in good time.  We drop our carry-ons at the house and walk across the street to Miner Elementary School. We are directed from the entrance to take a left and a right …We promptly get lost as we wander down the wide, newly painted hallways in the cool air conditioning.  We peek into classrooms where kids are gathered for after school day care.  “These kids look too young to be in Austin’s group,” I say to Art. 

            Then I spot Mrs. Mukendi, Austin’s preschool teacher standing in the hall.  Art is so excited he goes up to her to say hello and asks “Where is Hayden?”  He reminds her that we are his grandparents and she does remember us from last year.  Only I have to interject apologetically, “He means Austin”.  She points down the hall to the cafeteria where kids are seated at round tables having snack.  I look across the large room for a curly blonde head.  “There he is!”  When Austin sees us he grins and reaches out for a small hug and goes back to playing with a little girl sitting next to him.  He’s happy to see us and yet not in a big rush to come home as he was last year.  He’s playing with a new race car he brought in his backpack and tells me “Daddy brought it from Korea.”  He always surprises me because he is so aware of where his parents travel and can tell you the countries where they have been.

            We lure Austin away and he tells us “Tonight is Back to School night…we get to come back.”  But in the meantime we need to walk the dog , so I persuade Austin to get out his scooter and show us some of his expert moves.  He puts on his helmet and we head out. I have to walk fast not to lose sight of him as he flies down the city blocks around the neighborhood that he knows so well. Amazingly he never forgets to stop completely at an intersection. He has been taught since he was very small never to venture into the street.  City living has its advantages and kids do learn to pay attention and be aware of cars, people, and stop signs.

            Now in PreK-4 Austin is so at home in his classroom.  We go back with Mom and Dad in the evening and he shows us where everything is and he’s delighted to see some of his classmates he just left earlier.  Some are there with their parents.  It’s all very friendly and we can hardly drag Austin away when the evening is finished.

            Friday morning, though, Austin decides he’d rather “hang out” with us than go off to school.  We are a big distraction.  Jessica needs to be out the door to catch her bus for work but she calmly takes a moment to sit Austin down on the bottom step of the stairway.  She takes the Miner Elementary School Absentee Policy from the hall table, sits next to him, and reads it out loud.  He listens while we watch in amazement wondering how much he understands.  Then she hugs him, tells him to have a fun day, and goes out the door to work. Austin puts on his shoes without a fuss, grabs his backpack and is ready to be walked across the street to school. Afterwards Art and I both agree that that is “brilliant parenting”.  Would it work for all children?  I don’t know… but because Austin listens and is used to having things explained to him.  It definitely works for him.

            The rain holds off on Saturday which means we get to go to T-Ball practice.  “My Mommy is the coach,” Austin tells us.   Austin puts on his bright blue Capitol Hill Baseball t-shirt  which is on the big side. He has always hated wearing hats but I notice he easily puts on his navy baseball cap.  We pile into the “Mini” car, as Austin calls it, and we are off to the park with equipment and snacks.  Jess puts on her cap and is perfect in her role as coach.  Art and I watch as kids slowly arrive until there are about 10  or 12 four-year-old’s…all boys of all abilities…with parents and even some grandparents.  The park is full of other teams doing the same.  Austin has told me, “we are the Tigers”. 

The Tigers at practice with Coach Jess...

            Jess goes around enthusiastically welcoming each of her players and then starts the warm up and drills.  She is completely tuned in to four-year-old’s as they get down to do what she announces will be 50 pushups.  “One, two, three, four…forty nine and fifty! Nice…” She laughs.  They practice running from marker to marker and then get to do some batting setting the ball on the T and swinging.  Art and I watch fascinated. 

One little boy cries through most of the practice as his parents get him to try and participate but somehow nothing seems to suit him.  Some kids get confused about running to and from the markers, others swing hard but miss the ball entirely.  No one stops to take note and Coach Jess keeps the kids moving.  Austin loves it and runs around like the pro that he is having lived and breathed baseball since he was very young.  Hayden and Jessica are huge baseball fans and he grew up going to Nationals games in DC.  He has the moves and is good at imitating stances as he's seen the real baseball players do.  

The kid with the moves....

            Halfway through practice Coach Jess announces “we are going to play a game now with the Cubs”.  About 10 - 12 kids in red shirts come over from the other side of the park and they play a game. There is lots of help from parents on each base while the coaches supervise the batting.  It’s all very upbeat and kept fun whether mistakes are made or the ball goes nowhere off the T.  When the game is over there are no winners and losers and each team lines up to high five the other players in a show of good sportsmanship.  Jess gathers her little team and they huddle for one last cheer.  “See you guys next week,” she says cheerfully.  Then they run over to pick up their snack sack which one of the parents has prepared.  

Coach Jess with her team...

Austin loves it all and surprisingly he has not gained any special favors nor seemingly suffered resentment from anyone for being the coach’s son.  He blends right in with the other kids. I like that.  It reminds me of Hayden who went to school from K – 12^thgrade where Art was always the principal.   It never bothered him nor did he ever complain of kids giving him a hard time because of it.

While at Austin’s house I look for the things we always enjoy doing together.  We play  games and this visit he seems to have caught on to playing Checkers.  At bedtime he still likes to cuddle up and have me read to him.  We giggle together over the Gerald and Piggy stories by Mo Willems like we always have. Austin gets the humor.  But he also likes to listen to longer stories now. When we go places in the car he announces “ And Grandma  gets to sit next to me,” because I always have… and because I can still crawl into the back seat of the two door Mini which isn’t easy. At my birthday brunch on Sunday morning Austin is glued next to me when the waitress brings a surprise dessert of baklava with a single candle.  He makes the wish and we both blow out the candle.

Learning to play checkers...

Happy Birthday to me...

This visit I notice a new level of self-confidence and independence in Austin.  Jess attributes it to Tony’s summer day camp where she likes to joke that Austin “went off a little boy and came back a man!”  Austin is a “survivor” of Tony’s Capitol Hill camp where campers were taken on a different field trip all over the hot city every day of the week on public transportation. This required a level of stamina beyond what the usual four-year-old  can do but somehow Austin just stood up to it all and loved it though he came home exhausted. He lost his shyness and gave up his long afternoon nap and learned to ride every combination of bus, metro,  and trolley in DC.  Now he is  the “expert” and can tell you where the buses go. Taking him to the children's section of the Indian American Museum or the Children’s Garden in the National Botanical Gardens by the Capitol,  Austin knows where to go because he’s been there...and he remembers.  He is totally at home in his city of Washington D.C.

National Botanical Gardens

      Sunday afternoon comes too quickly. Austin gives me one of his pieces of artwork from his easel that he makes especially for me.  I fold it carefully and promise to display it when I get home.  We have one last hug and kiss and then we are on our way to Baltimore and soon home to Asheville.  When I next see Austin it will be Christmas and he will be almost five.  I know he will have gone in new directions in his growing up,  but he will be the same loving and sweet little boy he's always been.  I like to know that as his grandparents we are a  part of his life, and as important to him as he is to us.

Reflections on another birthday...

            My phone rang early this morning.   It was Hayden calling on his way to Dulles Airport to catch his flight to Dhaka, Bangladesh for a work trip. 

 “Happy Birthday, Mom…what will you do to celebrate today?”

“We’ll go for brunch in downtown Asheville,” I told him feeling lonesome that we would be not together.

As if reading my mind, he said, “we’ll plan to celebrate when you come visit in a few weeks.”  Perfect, I thought.   I was remembering my birthday celebration last year when we went to Washington D.C. to celebrate with Hayden, Jess, and Austin.

Birthday celebration in Washington on Sept. 2, 1017

Today has been a day of being grateful for the many lovely cards with special sentiments written in them that sit on the counter downstairs. I like to read and reread them. On the dining room table is a stunning bouquet of  yellow, purple and white dahlias from my friend Anne’s garden left on my doorstep while we were out. White roses are opening up in a silver vase on the coffee table. A gift from Art who knows I love roses.   Phone calls from my brothers filled the afternoon (we don’t talk so often) as birthdays were always very important in our family.  A phone call came from my niece Megan who was almost born on my birthday but held off till two days later…we are each other’s most loyal birthday supporters. We are  fellow Virgos and very much alike in many ways. Even my "English sister", Jenny never forgets to call from London.  “It’s what we always do on our birthdays…” she reminded me when we talked late yesterday on Skype. My email account is full of loving notes from friends who are far away. My Facebook Timeline has many  good wishes from acquaintances, neighbors, and people I haven’t seen in years because this what Facebook friends do in this age of technology. I do it too, although it feels too easy somehow and doesn’t require much thought.  

At my age, people tend to write things like “where have the years gone?” and other clichés about how quickly our lives pass by. I notice that and wonder if we said that as much when we were younger.  I would rather forget the numbers in my age and simply think about where I am today - recalling rich memories of long ago birthday celebrations and enjoy people in my life who are still there for me.

Every year I am reminded that what I miss most on my birthday is the phone call that always came from my parents no matter where I was living. Until they were both gone, now four years ago.  Each would get on an extension of the landline  while Mom would do most of the talking and Dad listened for a little while and then wandered off. Mother’s call was always followed by a letter where she, who was the memoirist in the family, lovingly remembered the day I was born in Santiago, Chile in 1945.  She was 25 and barely spoke a word of Spanish. She loved to tell me how I was born in a maternity clinic in downtown Santiago and even though she didn’t understand a word of what the nurses said to her she always related that they were “terribly kind”.  The doctor who delivered me was German and knew some English.  She reminded me every year that I was born on VJ Day – Victory Over Japan. It was the day the treaty was signed with Japan that ended the war in the Pacific.  Chileans, on the opposite side of the world from Japan, were celebrating. The staff at the clinic told Mother I must be called Victoria for “victory”. She told me she didn’t follow that suggestion “because I was afraid you’d go through life being a Vicky and not Victoria”.  I think she was right…Victoria is far more regal than plain Vicky.   Instead I became Kristina Ingrid…. Kristina, being a very common South American name was convenient, however not spelled with a K. I went through my childhood introducing myself in perfect Spanish … “me llamo Kristina con k”. My name is Kristina with a k.  (K is not a letter used in Spanish.) 

Like my Mother, I’ve become the memoirist now. Growing up in Buenos Aires, Argentina my Mother stayed at home. She was the parent who planned the many creative birthday celebrations for my brothers and me.  One year she had a birthday party for me where we made puppets out of paper sacks.  We then put on a puppet show on the back porch of our house where we often played theater with the neighborhood children and acted out shows we made up. Another year, I invited girlfriends to the Confiteria Paris, a tea restaurant in downtown Buenos Aires with a décor reminiscent of Europe in the late 1800’s.  There were Baroque looking elaborate gold mirrors, white marble floors, and waiters in white jackets and bow ties. Pastries were served on silver tier trays and tea in china cups. I wore my favorite Best & Co. turquoise corduroy princess-style dress with my black patent leather Mary Jane shoes and white lace anklets.  Other birthdays I was taken to the Teatro Colon, the opera house in Buenos Aires to see the ballet.  I would sit on the edge of my velvet seat in my party dress riveted to the ballerinas performing on the stage.  At the end of each act, the enormous red velvet curtains trimmed in heavy gold braid  were pulled shut by stage hands dressed as footmen…white wigs, stockings and all!  

I rarely spent birthdays in the US but when I was 8 we had “home leave” from Argentina and spent an entire summer in Iowa with my grandparents.  Being the eldest grandchild and because my grandmother saw me so infrequently, she wanted to give me a birthday party.  I remember her telling me, “I know your birthday is not until September, and this is July, but would you like to have a party now.”  Of course, I said yes and much to her surprise I went all over her neighborhood in Des Moines inviting any children I saw.  She was somewhat taken aback that I rounded up as many children as I did but I thought it was great having a July birthday!

Birthdays for me growing up in South America always came in the spring and the few days of September were not special in any way. But when I moved back to the U.S. and was grown up my birthday was always in, on, or around Labor Day, one of the biggest holidays of the year.  When I worked in public schools it often fell on the first day of school or on a teacher work day and so it became somewhat forgotten.  Now it doesn’t matter anymore except for wanting to spend it with family.  Last year we were in Washington D.C. to celebrate with Austin.  Having a grandson lends a whole new dimension to birthdays and I hadn’t had quite as much excitement and a real cake and even candles for a long time.  I was reminded that reliving birthdays through the eyes of children can be one of the most fun ways to celebrate.

 Birthday celebration in Washington DC, Sept. 2, 1017

Licking the plate clean with Austin...

My special day is almost behind me and yet in a few weeks we’ll be in Washington for one more celebration. This time I will have my helper, Austin, to lick the icing and help me blow out some candles as he loves to do. Then I will stop celebrating and simply get on with the life and all that is coming my way this next year.