Madge Monday

Wow, anticipation is not Madge’s strong suit. But today is Christmas, and the wait is over. She’s been losing a lot of sleep this past week. So much so that she was feeling sick by the end of the week and I let her stay home on Friday. (She had a slight fever and her grandparents were coming soon and I didn’t want to push things. It was actually a nice day.) Hopefully, we can catch up now.
She is a sweet, thoughtful and generous gift giver. The generosity is easy for her since she’s not footing the bill. But the point is that she doesn’t skimp on quality and can recognize quality without looking at a price tag first.
But, at age seven, I don’t think she can help making gift-pile comparisons. To her disadvantage, of course, because it seems that the general rule is: the younger the kid, the larger the toy. Choking hazards are small, after all. And a lot of rubber duckies can be purchased for the price of a computer game. Still, the whole day went by quite peacefully.
As I’ve noted, the grandparents are here (for a week) and there was some initial attention-jealousy, but now that we’ve passed out stopwatches and tally-sheets, everything should go well. Once I’ve explained the concept of interest and its accrual to Madge, I think we’ll be set.
But really, considering the emotional turmoil that Christmas entails, she’s holding up remarkably well.
Much better than I did at that age, I’m sure.

Oh, and I almost forgot, we went to the Nutcracker Ballet on Saturday. Lincoln Center. My first time. (She went last year with Julie and YaiYai – but they left during the intermission because of illness – it might even have been mentioned in an insert in the program: “Due to illness, the role of ‘spectator in the fourth tier balcony’ will be played by an understudy or even left blank after the intermission. We regret any confusion this may cause.”)
Boy, is she a squirmy ballet-watcher. Super-cute, don’t get me wrong. She just wants to dance, too, I think. She hums along, waves her arms, hops up and down, claps wildly when things are exciting, and is good company during the intermission. Only getting there is a little rough – see the anticipation difficulties above. We got there early and got to our seats early and waited there rather than in the lobby. Oh, well.
And, on the subway ride there, she put her legs on the seat next to her and accidentally brushed the leg of her neighbor, who took personal offense at the matter. Borderline loony, I assume, or trying to go without medication or cigarettes or something. More grumpy than a regular day would entail, in other words. But who knows what people on the subway are going through? Ever ride on public transportation after something went horribly wrong for you and get pissed off at everyone around you? That kind of a day, I think.
And, on the way back, she was sprawled out as if she were on the couch at home and the lady across from me motioned to me that Madge should probably close her legs.
She had a point, but that’s really not something I want to have to think about.
But the ballet: awesome. I even fell asleep briefly. No, wait. That should say, “I was transported.”