Swimming, Shoelace-tying, Pooping: Traversing Life's Small Hurdles

This morning Havana was a little weepy. She held onto Ilyana's hand and explained to her that summer was over. On Monday Havana returns to Elementary school and won't be able to come to pre-school again. She offered her consolation. "Don't worry, Ily, you'll see me after you finish school on Monday."

Little Ily's response was poker-faced, as it almost always is. You never know what or how Ilyana is processing emotional information she receives. Things enter her small brain, then she reshapes it in words consistent with her own conception. To the outside world this is sometimes upside down, sometimes right side up.

Both girls are growing upwards at their own paces. Last week Havana moved out of the world of velcro and into the world of laces. This transition she conquered quickly and efficiently. Ilyana's small victories remain more primitive. "Daddy! Daddy! Sisty!" she will yell. Havana and I will look at each other. It's old news to us. We traipse into the bathroom and are introduced to Ily's latest product as if it's a work of art, which on some level it is.

On Wednesday Havana's mad arm-and-leg flailings in an indoor pool came together to create a symbiosis of floating and moving forward on water. I have never known her to be so proud of any accomplishment in her five years out of the womb. We figured one day she may possibly grow tired of her given name. That day came. She now wants to be known as 'the swimmer' or simply, 'swimmer.' I shared with her that in my teenage days some of the lads down the pub used to call me 'the fish' for my drinking abilities. She was unimpressed. "I am not a fish, I am the swimmer" she insisted.

I suggested we mark the event with a "swim victory celebration." All four of us will go see Ponyo, the Japanese Animation. Although, it is the story of a fish that turns into a girl. At least I think that is the plot. Havana was excited. It has been over a year since we've tried to go see a movie. This hurdle was not to be jumped. From a young age Havana has been quite sensitive to intense sensory exposure. Perhaps when Karen was pregnant we played our stereo too loud. (Or not loud enough?) Well, after about 5 cinema-surroundsound-minutes, the noise and images were too much, so we went and got our money back. I imagine Ponyo crossed the species threshold all the same.

So this afternoon we will instead have a Dance Party celebration of Havana's new identity as one of the world's aquatic humans. Havana will pick the music: my guess is she will pick the Human League or Michael Jackson. And without hesitation as soon as the first notes pumps out, she will without any contradiction in her head, be yelling, "louder Daddy! Louder!" And her out of water body will be flailing in perfect unison with the dancing notes in her head.