Happy 6th birthday Clara Godfrey
We’re 2+ years into this whole global pandemic thing. Fully 1/3 of your life! Remember what life was like before? Me neither. But here are some of my favorite memories from this past year, in not even remotely chronological order.
Daddy-daughter walks:
You started your age-5 year in preschool and finished it in kindergarten. Different schools, different classmates, different teachers. But one constant was me walking you home from school (most of the time anyway). We’d look for flowers and despite your protestations that it would be OK to pick real flowers from someone’s yard, I limited you to grabbing what are, effectively, weeds. You’d grab a pretty purple one, and I’d settle for a pinecone that kinda sorta looked like a flower. Then the conversation would go something like this:
Me: Let’s take these home and see which one Gaby likes best
You: OK, but after we need to put yours back outside
Me: Why?
You: Because yours is nature and people want to enjoy it
Me: Yours is nature too
You: Flowers are ok to take inside
Me: ok…
You: I think people would like to see this flower. But…we have it, so too bad!
Of course, there are also the times when you asked to see my flower pinecone thingy, then threw it on the ground and smashed it while grinning from ear-to-ear. Nature lover indeed.
Speaking of destruction…
Survival of the fittest:
We were in the backyard one day and someone saw a bee on the ground. It was alive, but couldn’t fly and was just waiting to die.
Me: Do you guys mind if I kill it, just so we don’t have to worry about it and it doesn’t have to suffer?
Colt: Ok I guess, but let me know so I can look away
You: Yeah, kill it!!!
Mom’s look was a combination of amused and horrified. Thankfully more the former.
Speaking of the backyard…
Balling out:
Last fall you started to really enjoy hitting whiffle balls (steadfastly refusing to use a tee). You actually got pretty good, and I of course assumed it was due to my amazing pitching prowess. But you mash off the brothers and Gaby as well, so you’re clearly doing something right.
Speaking of balling out…
Softball:
You’ve been watching the boys play baseball for years, and it was finally time to get on the diamond yourself. I’m the manager for your all-Baywood team because I know oh so very much about softball. Actually, it’s t-ball softball, so I’m not sure the coach has to know much. Just make sure everyone has fun and no one gets hit in the face with the ball. We’re doing pretty well on #1, but I think it only took two practices before a ball found your forehead. To your credit, you only cried for a few minutes and then got right back out there.
You’re learning to catch, and your arm is strong when you want it to be. And you definitely put in the work when it comes to pulling the equipment wagon. But your real passion is hitting. By the 2nd game we were pulling the tees aside and pitching, and you’ve had several nice hits. Although no matter how great (or how terrible) the games and practices went, your favorite part was always running up to the playground after to have fun with your teammates. And the snacks. Because in 5-year old youth sports, it’s really all about the snacks.
Speaking of snacks…
Snack time:
You’d live on snacks if we let you. Chips, crackers, cookies, candy. Basically anything with no nutritional value fits the bill. And the more sugar the better. Even as a softball star in the making, you’d rather go to the boys’ games than you own, because baseball = Trinta, and Trinta = junk food.
The only upside to your love of junk food is that it’s given me leverage to feed you an occasional vegetable. You’ll sometimes even ask me to make broccoli, just so you can earn a treat. So when you grow up to be super tall but with lots of cavities, we can debate whether it was all worth it.
Somehow we got a bit off track here. Weren’t we talking about sports?
Soccer:
Your first real, organized team sport. I was the coach, because if there’s any sport I know even less about than softball, it’s soccer. Just before your first game we had a team race across the field, and you won! Then almost immediately you kinda lost interest. You did score our first goal and had a few nice break-away dribbles, but mostly you just complained about how hot it was.
The first few games were rough, as you and the teammates lacked a certain aggressiveness. I decided to change my coaching strategy. I put a ball at you feet and asked “whose ball is that?” To which someone correctly answered “Clara’s”. Then I grabbed the ball and asked again “whose ball is it?” When the answer came “yours” I corrected “no, it’s still YOUR ball! When you have the ball, it’s your ball. And when someone on the other team has the ball it’s still your ball. Go get it!”
“Whose ball is it? MY BALL!” became our rallying cry and everything changed. This may or may not have unnerved at least one of the other coaches, but we won every game the rest of the way. And more importantly, every girl on our team scored goals and you had a ton of fun. Especially when the snacks came out. Because, again, it’s all about the snacks.
Flag Football:
Wedged in-between soccer and softball, there was Next Level flag football. It’s Colt’s favorite sport, Cam’s favorite sport — would it be your favorite? It would if I had anything to say about it! (which, of course, I never do).
In the exhibition game, your team ran exactly three offensive plays before they blew the horn for halftime. Three! In the second half, you may have run as many of five plays, and we lost 13–6. It was painful to watch, but all you cared about was…the postgame treats (donut holes). And playing with Colt and Grady.
I was drafted into service as a coach, and while we lost our first official game, it was a step in the right direction. We won the next couple and in our 4th game I subbed you in on offense when Savannah got hurt. 3rd down from the 30, we’re behind by a TD. You grabbed the hand-off, bolted towards the sideline and scampered upfield for your first touchdown! There’s no video of that epic run (mom fail), but it looked a lot like this one (except longer!), with you holding the ball out in front the whole way
Grandma!
Due to covid, it had been about 8,471 days since Grandma came to visit. Or at least it felt that long to me. Finally last May, with everyone vaccinated and tax season over, she came! And then she came again! And again! I don’t remember exactly how many times she flew down, but it still wasn’t enough. You’d changed so much and she had A LOT of catching up to do.
You read, ate ice cream, played cards, and lounged around. You even helped with the cooking! Grandma was so happy to see you again that she did whatever you wanted for about as long as you wanted. Which is all you ever really want. Well, that and snacks.
Wu family:
Grandma isn’t the only family we missed during the pandemic. It’d been even longer since you’d see Agong, Ama, or any of the Wu family cousins, aunts and uncles. We visited Ama and Agong in Virginia in August, and then headed back out a few months later for an almost-complete Wu family Thanksgiving extravaganza (we miss you Auntie Jennifer!).
It was so amazing watching you reconnect with family that you so rarely get to see. The action was intense (dancing, climbing, and general rambunctiousness), but you never missed a beat. Well, except when you fell and cracked your forehead open on a table. But Auntie Elizabeth came prepared with her glue kit and got you patched up good as new! You even got to check out DC and explore its museums and monuments. Maybe when you’re older you’ll actually appreciate some of it.
Gaby:
Since we’re on the subject of family, Gaby is basically like a big sister. Or maybe a cool young aunt? Either way, she’s a lot more fun to hang out with than me or mom. I’m not really sure what you guys are doing most of the time, and that’s maybe for the best. I do know that she plays cards, indulges your love of repetitive music (both the songs themselves, and the endless loops you play them on), buys you a lot more treats than I ever would, and even lets you use all her cool toys like the hoverboard.
In return, you make her laugh, keep her on her toes, and provide seemingly endless fodder for her online persona. You give her mom a 2nd pseudo-daughter to fawn over, and her brothers another pseudo-sister to mess with. You’re so very very lucky to have this amazing bond with such a fantastic person and her family. You probably barely remember life before Gaby, and could scarcely imagine living without her (nor could I). Thankfully, you don’t have to.
Barbie:
Speaking of girl pals, you’ve somehow developed this mild obsession with Barbie. We managed to avoid getting you any girl toys for years. But you discovered Barbie, and somehow amassed about ten of them without mom or I ever buying you one. Then for Colton’s birthday Grandma got you a Barbie horse. And for Christmas Gaby got you the Barbie mansion (don’t call it a ‘dream house’). And suddenly Barbie has taken over an entire corner of the front room. And my kitchen table. And the underside of my foot whenever I don’t look where I step.
So our quest to make you into a tom-boy is looking bleak. I guess you’re a Barbie girl now. I can live with that, so long as you keep playing Next Level football.
Reading:
If Barbie is your favorite toy, The Berenstain Bears is your favorite book. For a couple months in mid 2021, it was the only book you’d ever want to read at night. Mom eventually refused, but I’m more of a pushover. You’d have moments of wanting to read Danny (choose your own adventure) or Dr. Seuss (educational books about animals, habitats, plants, etc), or other things. But you always came back to The Bears.
Lately you’ve shown a renewed interest in learning how to actually read yourself. Which would be great because a) it’s a useful life skill, b) it would help you keep yourself entertained, and c) I’d never have to read another Berenstain Bears book ever again. Ever.
Jaguars:
And while Barbies and The Bears are fun, there’s really only one thing I could say you were ‘obsessed’ with during the past year. And that thing, of course, is jaguars. How, you may ask, did such a strange obsession begin? Well, everyone at your preschool got a stuffed animal after studying Amazon rainforests. You picked a Jaguar and named it Rocket. Unlike other stuffies that you got tired or quickly, Rocket remained your favorite. At school you grew so attached to the much larger jaguar that at the end of the year they let you take it home. You named it “Orange.”
When Grandma visited she bought you yet another Jaguar which you named Luna. Maybe it’s not quite as strong as your brothers’ previous obsession with frogs, but you’ve since added jaguar print pants, shirts, dresses, a hat, and even a furry vest. It’s only a matter of time before you go way off the deep end and demand a Trevor Lawrence jersey…
Potpourri:
Time for the lightning round of mini-stories that don’t quite warrant their own section:
- You love Bluey and begged me to buy you a costume for Halloween, promising you’d wear it. Then you struck a separate deal to do a group “League of their Own” costume with Mom. So the Bluey costume, like so many other things, got used once and then cast aside. But you and Mom did look pretty adorable, so I’m over it. No really, I am. Seriously. No lie.
- You talk very frankly about death. About relatives who died vs. those still alive, and especially about when I’m going to die. And not in a “I’ll be so sad when you die” sort of way. More like “you’re older and so you will die before me so ha ha ha.”
- You play piano. You don’t like it. I blame your brothers.
- You had a very brief “cutting out paper hearts” phase, working your way through page after page of red and pink paper. What to do with this new found wealth of decorations? Throw a Valentine’s Day themed dinner party of course!
- Your brothers like to perform what can best be defined as “stupid human tricks.” Not to be outdone, you’ve perfected the Spock finger gesture, hanging upside down, hula hoop transitions, and can even match Cam for “grossest eye crossing”
- You finally learned how to swim. Or at least how to survive in water. Most of the time. Hopefully. I could dig up a photo, but I think you pretty much know what swimming looks like
- When you got your flu shot in Sept I had to hold you down through panicked banshee-like screams. Ditto for your first covid shot, when you acted brave while waiting in line (demanding to go first), then slowly lost your nerve before breaking down into full hysterics. I wish I had this photo, but they wouldn’t allow it. Over the next three weeks you somehow matured by three years as you didn’t scream, didn’t cry, didn’t even hardly flinch. Go figure.
Kindergarten drop-off:
At Tulane (pre-school) drop-off, you had an occasional sad moment, but rarely had any separation anxiety. We attributed this to the fact that you’d been watching us drop off your brothers there for years, so no big deal. And we figured the same would be true for kindergarten drop-off at Baywood.
Wrong.
Some days you were over the moon happy and excited. Others, it was like we were leaving you on the steps of the local orphanage on our way out of town. Especially on days we arrived late (which was pretty much always), you’d demand to be walked all the way to the classroom. All indications are that you have a great time in class, but I’d never know it to see your reaction.
Staring at screens:
Maybe it’s because we limit your use, but nothing gets you more excited (and eventually more calmed down) than staring at a screen, And seemingly the smaller the screen the happier you are (watching Mom’s phone is as good as it gets).
Your iPad became effectively unusable a few months ago because it was too old to run YouTube Kids and other apps. Since then you’ve been holding out hope that maybe this day — today — would be the day when you’d finally get a working replacement. Did it happen? Did you get it? The world may never know…
Speaking of screens…
Star of the screen:
It seems like every time we go to a baseball game, you end up on the jumbotron. And in San Diego, you outdid yourself by getting up there twice. Actually, it was two separate jumbotrons, because I guess that’s the kind of fancy they have in San Diego.
Either way, I spent my entire childhood failing to get on a single not-so-jumbotron. Of course I didn’t have Gaby to help me, but it’s yet another example of how your life is better than mine.
Tahoe:
We planned a trip to Tahoe for New Years, reasoning that it was past time to get you on a pair of skis. The drive took 14 hours. FOURTEEN!!! You were pretty fussy for the first hour, and intermittently during the last, but were amazing for the bulk of it. Even stopping for a roadside snowstorm family pee didn’t phase you.
Our first day at Donner, lift tickets were all sold out. So I taught you a little bit at the base, and helped you ski down to the parking lot. A promising start. The next couple days you rocked it, blasting down the mountain as I screamed and begged you to turn. You beat Cam in a race (maybe with a head start, we’ll never know) and confidence was high.
After much pleading, I relented and took you to the upper lift. Mom (also new to skiing) jumped on the chair in front with the boys. I figured you, Mom and I would take the easy “mile run” green. But mom headed straight down Crystal Bowl, so I took you along “vista run” which was technically a green, but was slanted to the side and whipped with wind. Of course this meant plenty of struggles, several dropped skis, and a few tears. All while watching Mom spend a solid 20 minutes trying to get her ski back on after a presumably pretty epic fall. Good times.
Overall, it was a GREAT first few days of skiing. I can’t wait to get you back up there again next year and see what you can do.
Brothers:
The fighting is near constant — the bickering with Cam will die down just in time to start up a new fight with Colton. And on. And on.
You guys fight over car seats, table seats, sofa seats, stuff animals, plastic animals, real animals, and literally anything else that enters your field of view. You complain about attending each others’ events (unless it involves snacks — see above) and lose your mind if they get ANYTHING you don’t get (cookie, a sleepover, the ability to pee standing up, new socks, part of mom’s lap — you name it).
The funny thing is, despite all this conflict, I don’t think you could live without them (although you’d sure like to try). You snuggle up together, play video games, and they usually find a way to incorporate you into whatever wrestling/football/MMA activities they have going on. You and Cam built a fort and even managed to share it with minimal fighting. The worst punishment you can imagine might be us forcing you to sleep in another room by yourself.
One might even suggest, if I may be so bold, that you actually LOVE your brothers. I know you don’t believe it, but I’m right. Pretty sure.
Mom:
If I didn’t love Mom so much I’d probably be a bit offended and a lot of jealous of how you fawn over her. Especially when snuggle time rolls around, your first choice is clearly Mom (and then probably Gaby), settling for me only when neither preferred option is available. Especially when Mom is napping, you’ll seek her out and nuzzle up, relishing the chance to just be close, sometimes maybe even getting a bit too cozy and drifting off yourself.
You’ve also gotten very excited about creating art. What you draw is all over the map, with topics including scenery, animals, sports logos, the Bluey house and almost everything else that crosses your mind. Who you draw for is much clearer. Almost always it’s for Mom (with an occasional “and dad” added if there’s enough space left over).
Dad:
What can I say about me? Well, how much time do you have?
Besides how much I love and adore you, how about how you make me laugh? You make up goofy songs, play along with my ridiculous stories and jokes, and even make up a few of your own.
I love coaching your teams, walking you to and from school, and volunteering in your classroom.
I love to watch you sing, dance, and do cartwheels. I love the boundless energy you bring.
I love picking you up, twisting you around, and carrying you on my back. I love the shake machine, upside-down tickles, sloppy kisses, and that you put up with all of it.
I love how lately you seem to get taller by the day, even if it means my days of picking you up might be numbered.
I love how effortless your smile is, and how it seems to come from nowhere.
I love the way you moan “ohh…” when you’re disappointed, and yell “yes!” when you’re excited.
I love how you pretend not to love it when I rub my super-scratchy scruff on your face, even though you and I both know it’s like the best thing ever.
Most of all, I just love who you are and who you’re becoming. I love getting to watch you grow and muture in front of my own eyes. It’s moving too fast, but I’m loving (almost) every minute of it.
Happy birthday Clara!
