Some Bits of Gemma

I had a grand vision of writing a fairly complete travelogue from our summer escapades.  It's partly written already, come to think of it.  But I think now I need not to let the grand be the enemy of "at least something" and recall now a few Gemma things I've been hanging onto. . .

In May, the kids and I found ourselves in my sister's fabulous loft in downtown Chicago.  Officially, we were helping her by cat-sitting Sam and Max.  But, come on.  Who got the better end of that arrangement?

We parked the car in the building garage on Monday and did not get into it again until Saturday.

Gemma knew the drill from a visit we'd had last Fall:  Breakfast, then a city adventure including a big lunch out, then home, then time at the park just down the street, then small dinner at home, then bedtime.

At about 7:45 AM Tuesday morning, she was on my bed whispering, "Mom, it's time to get up.  The whole city is awake!"

***

One morning, en route to a nearby cafe I knew of to have breakfast (so much for routine), we discovered it was not open.  A passerby said, "Go to Yolk, it's so much better anyway," and kept walking. 

I called after her, "Where's Yolk?"

She spun around and looked at me, then at Gemma, then at Joshua, as though she hadn't actually seen the people she'd just counselled.  Then she gave me the intersection (which I know forget), and which I had to say, "And where's that," all of which was a friendly enough exchange. 

She said, "Cute kids," and then was off. 

Something I noticed: there were never any children out and about.   I know there are children in Chicago.  But unless they were getting off a school bus and then heading into the same museums we were heading into, or playing at the playground, we did not see them.

This was confirmed by women like this, by all the other professionals we walked among--they found my children to be. . .surprisingly placed.  Like, "Oh look!  A child!" 

But it was a warm reaction all the way around.

Yolk was several blocks away.  Josh said, "Let's take a taxi"--which was always his request because taxis have little televisions that play stupid commercials in them, but TV is TV, right?  His only preference above a cab was a bus.

Gemma said back to him, "No, Josh, that's not adventurous.  We have to walk!" and off she strode. . .

***
On just such a walk, this was Joshua:  Karate kicks and arm slashes, complete with sound effects.  Not sure what sparked that phase. . .

Here was Gemma:  Jaunty. 

Where did this child get her city mouse gene?  It must have skipped from Grandpa John down to her.

***

And, sure, Yolk was a good restaurant.  But doing breakfast well isn't that big a deal, at least, for people who can't eat any of the good stuff like stuffed french toast and other sugary delights.

***

She's a great dog trainer.  It's a little eerie, that a near-8-year-old would be so consistent.  So very consistently consistent.  I'm responsible for the all the dog training and I have no expectation of the children other than that they will not give him any of their food.  But, hey. . .

***

She's loving her Home School Academy day on Tuesdays.  They've already gone on a field trip to study the cliff dwellings in partnership with all they've been learning about the Anasazi Indians.

I could tell you all about them, too, because Gemma told me every last thing she learned on that field trip. 
An auditory learner.
And a bit of a teacher, we see.
Hmm.  Where did she get that?  Oh.  Right.

***

So enough about her, you're thinking.  Let's see the dog.

Yeah, he's pretty awesome. 
And the ear thing he's got goin' on has been for over a week now. . .

A Whole Lotta J

I've been having bad dreams that I will forget these stories before writing them down.  Josh is in quite a window for "remarks" lately. . . 

***

A few months ago, the kids built a Lego village.  They called me over for their presentation, which included Gemma using a flashlight to guide the tour and Josh doing several things as his part of the act.  Wonderful!  Yay!  Applause, applause, applause.

"Let's leave it right here to show Daddy when he gets home."

After dinner, Gemma remembered to show him, but Josh got to the flashlight first. 

Gemma looked crest-fallen.  It was just one of those things.  She wanted to do the presentation for Daddy, too.  "It's my turn for the flashlight," Josh announced.

I told him, "I know that is the fair thing, to take turns.  But sometimes, God wants us to show love by not thinking about the fair-thing, but instead doing the share-thing."

Josh cocked his head and without a moment's consideration said, "God also says that the first shall be last.  Gemma was first, and now she shall be last!"

***

We did bargain him down to letting Gemma go twice and next time, (next time?) he'll get 2 turns of whatever. . .

***

The other night, not sure what prompted it, Joshua said, "Will we ever have a lot of land?"

Bryan said, "I don't know.  But we're very thankful for this home that God has given us."

Josh nodded, pointed to our neighbors to the rear, and then said, "But when that house there burns down, we can take that land." 

What?!   Sheesh. . .

***

I have started school with him.  Not in great earnest.  Kindergarten, technically, starts next year because his birthday is late July and the cut-off here is so early. . .  Why not let him be the oldest in his class instead of the absolute youngest?

I was curious to see the differences between him and Gemma.  Different people, of course.  But also the girl/boy thing. 

Not sure what to attribute this to:  We were doing a math sticker page and I told him, "Add more star stickers to the scene to make 7 all-together"

And he SMILED and narrowed his eyebrows and instructed, "OK!  Close your eyes!"

Why?

"Because I'm going to hide the stars in the picture so you have to find them!" 

We're off to a brave new start.

Dog Stories

We're just lovin' this doggie.

He is learning very quickly.  The bells thing, earlier reported, was a fluke.  He must have bumped it by accident the other night, because he doesn't ring them on purpose now.

But when I ring them, he comes running to the door.  So he's got that part figured out.

More interestingly, here's the kids' take on things:

J:

As Helen shared in the notes before, Josh watched Benziger challenge the giant BroJean, a 105 lb dog, with a bark and butt wag.  Josh's eyes were huge with admiration as he said about his puppy, "He's fierce."

***

This morning, Joshua came down the stairs, saw Benziger already up and at 'em and said, "Mommy!  He still looks new!" 

***

Yesterday Josh was running the loop in our home (you know: that kind of floor plan) with Benzig chasing him.  After a lap or two, the dog paused, waited for Josh to round the end and come back the other direction and then resumed pursuit.

Josh yelled, "What a smart little puppy!  I didn't even see him there!"


(Speaking of this: Border Collies and Corgis are both shepherding breeds, and we've already seen a few behaviors come out of this.  We took a walk to the park today and Benzig's eyes did not leave the children, even though I kept him on a leash.) 

***

Border Collies are also famous for their extreme energy.  Which is kind of perfect, because in addition to the training I do with him, there is also a 5-year-old boy in the house with a lot of his own plans for this dog. 

So far, it's been very easy to say, "Josh, go in the backyard with Benzig to play."  And they're off.

I hope this lasts long enough to get through the puppy stage. . .

Trying to get a shot that shows his shortness. . .
***

Speaking of "plans," I told the kids to keep an eye on him while I was upstairs for a few minutes.  I came down and saw no dog.

I heard no jingle of a tag.

I saw a pile of couch pillows on the floor.  "Where's Benziger?" I asked.

With great pride: "In that cave!" 

A cave, in fact, built around the puppy as he sat in his cushion-y dog bed.  Not sure why he didn't bust out...



G:

She started her cottage program this week, which involves an 8:15 AM drop-off.  We brought the dog with us.  She held him on her lap all the way there (because, of course, J would get his turn on the way home).  It was hard to tell which pleased her more: the puppy or the school.

And she knows how to hold him so that it ends up being a cuddle.  Something about it is natural for her.

Josh, on the other hand, wants to cuddle the puppy, but when he finds a good position, can't keep himself from moving in order to hug him, or squeeze him, or touch his ears. . .

On the way home, failing to find one happy, content, cuddling position, he exclaimed, "Mommy!  Are you ever going to teach him the command 'stay'?"

Did that turn into a story about Josh?  Sorry.  It's just that Gemma is so calm about it, so sensible in all things.  She loves this dog.  Delights in him. And proceeds as she always has. . .

For instance, this afternoon, she completing her preparations for tomorrow's co-op, where we will have the first business day of our pretend town.  She's a business owner (along with the other kids) and she needed to finalize the inventory she'd be buying wholesale.

There's a whole process for this.

She had her stuff on the floor, spread out.  Puppy trotted over, sniffed her index cards and Gemma tucked her hair behind her hair and said, "Oh, Hi, Benziger!  You cutie."  And continued on with her work.

It was like. . .out of an afterschool movie or something.

***

A golden retriever lives next door.  Her name is Estes.  3 years old.  A very nice doggie.  I've been thinking for 3 years, "Why would we get a dog?  My kids can play with Estes." 

Mr. Colorado brought Estes over for a little meet n' greet.  The dogs played.  Benziger tail-tucked, I'm glad to say.  Submissive dogs are easier to train!  And for while, Estes definitely dominated.  She's about 50 lbs, first of all.  Longer legs, and all.

But Benzig got comfortable with her and started playing in earnest.  Here's the cute part:  When she went after him, he would dodge and then roll 360'.  He'd do 2, 3 rolls--As Bryan said, "Evasive maneuvers!" 

We're thinking it might be part of the Corgi thing--those little guys ducking out of the way of cattle hooves. 

***

So.  Is my blogging going to be all about this puppy now?  No, no. . .  But still, these are moments the kids are going to read years from now. 

The Unexpected Story

We left for Story, Wyoming on Thursday afternoon.  This was to be a last get-away before our standard schedule ramped into full swing.

Story is a little town.  Just over 800 residents.  It bustles up to just over 1000 in the summer.  And it's called "Story."  That's as quiet a name as it should be.

And we went there looking for a quiet weekend.  We stayed in a little log cabin that is kind of run like a B&B.  No TV in it.  But a huge stone fireplace and a box of firewood filled for each evening.  We were to spend our days with Helen and David and their 2 marvelous dogs on their one beautiful acre.  The kids were to climb trees.  Explore the meadow.  Play "chuck-it" with the dogs.  Play board games by the hearth in the evening with us right before bed.

I even warned them that this was the vacation they should expect.  No crazy kid fun on this trip. No water parks.  No children's museums.  Just nature.  And our friends.  And a hike, if weather permits. 

We got to Storey Thursday night.  Sat in David and Helen's meadow all morning.  The kids climbed and explored and were loving it. 

Then we all went for a little drive.  First stop: Storey Art Station, where regional artisans sell their work.  And there, we bought a puppy.

Yes, we did.

No, not a puppy sculpture. A live, 8 week old puppy. 

Surprising, yes.  Crazy, no.  Or maybe. . .

The artist working at the shop is a photographer from a ranch.  Her border collie and corgi had a litter and she had two puppies remaining.  She brought them to the shop with her each day she came down to Storey to work, and there they were, in a small pen, behind a door.

Helen is the one who found them, and I went to look with complete confidence that I'd be immune to them.  I know about puppies.  And I didn't want one.  Bryan and I have had the dog discussion many, many times in the last 4 years or so.  Do we want our children to grow up with a family dog?  In theory, yes.

Do I want to take care of one?  Especially a puppy?  No.  Resoundingly.  No. 

But there was something about this dog.  He wasn't the better looking of the 2.  The other had more collie in him and had beautiful proportions.  This one had the short corgi legs and just wasn't as striking. 

I did hold them both, all in fun, right?  Surely we wouldn't get a puppy while 8 hours from home, right?  And I held this one, there was. . .just something about this dog.   I nearly started crying as I held him.  I just knew he was to be part of our family.

I asked how much she was selling him for, half-expecting her to tell me that the resulting dogs were therefore designer border-orgies, or corg-ollies or coll-gies and then tell me that they were selling for $750 apiece.  That would have been the end of it. 

Nope.  He'd had his first shot so the price was $50.  And, actually, he was a gift from Helen to the kids.  But, c'mon, he's really my dog.

I'm totally fine with the kids loving him like crazy.

  

This is Aunt Helen with the kids and her service dog, BroJean.  She's something of a dog-whisperer.  So super-excellent with dog training.  She and Uncle David have taken in (how many??) dogs over the years. Mostly rescued Dobies.  But all kinds, really.  And they train them well. 

She has already taught me so much, and Benziger and I are off to a really great start.  No potty accidents so far.  He obeys several commands already:  come, leave it, foodies, and "bells."

I'm serious: we have sleigh bells by the front door and he is already trained to nudge them when he needs (or wants) to go outside.  The kids and I could hardly believe it when he did it on his own tonight!

Oh, right, some explanation on the name Benziger.  This is Helen's maiden name.  We were shopping for his leash and food dish when the idea came to me.  I like grand names for small dogs.  It's now the end of Day 4 since he joined our family and I call him "Benzig." 

We got to that hike, after all.  This is the monument at the Fetterman Massacre site.  Some very brutal history in those parts.  As Sanburg wrote, "Shovel me under and let me work/I am the grass and I cover all."

I realize you can't see much of the dog in these photos.  But we all wanted to hold him the whole time. . .

Bryan, too, by the way.  He was very, very surprised that I wanted this puppy.  Glad, though.  We had a family movie night the evening we arrived home (after an 8 hour ride of taking turns holding him--best car ride of our lives!) and Bryan wanted to hold Benziger on his lap for the whole thing.

All of which is not to say that he is as smitten as I . . .

"Gemma, go stand by that monument!"

Gemma took this photo.  She's pretty handy with the camera nowadays.

Of course, Benziger has some serious cuteness competition.