Friendship

I had to go in to speak with Alex's teacher during drop-off this morning. Yesterday the school physician visited Alex's class and weighed and measured all of the children and assessed their coordination and speech, and the doctor had concerns about Alex's fine and gross motor skills.

Well, I've already been scolded twice by his teacher because my four-year-old doesn't know how to hold his pencil correctly. (I didn't tell her my seven-year-old is shaky as well.) So Alex and I are working on that, and perhaps that's the fine-motor skill that's troubling his doctor.  We'll soon find out: the doctor is supposed to call tomorrow and let us know what's on her mind about our little one.  Uncharacteristically, I'm not too worried about this one. I've always thought Alex's coordination was just fine, and I suspect something was lost in translation.

I grabbed some photos of Alex's classroom while I was there.

The thing that does concern me is we were discussing what to do over Alex's birthday, which falls at the beginning of a two-week “sportferien,” or sport holiday, from school. (The kids will only have 6 weeks off for the summer, but they do have long vacations interspersed through out the year as well. This on is meant to give the kids a chance to enjoy the ski slopes.) We mentioned Disneyland, Legoland, skiing...and Alex piped up, shyly: "Instead, I'd like to go to Seattle instead and see Grandma and Grandpa and my preschool."  Oh, dear.

But when Ella came home for lunch, she was all a-glow. "Oh, Mother! I'm so very happy! I made a friend today!" 

An aside: yes, my daughter really does speak like Anne of Green Gables.  Among the choice phrases she's used lately are "By golly, you're right" and "Oh, I was hoping against hope!"

But we were speaking of her friend. Apparently she cracked a joke while she was waiting in line to no one in particular (since no one can understand her), but a boy giggled a little.  Ella spun around and asked why he laughed? Did he understand her joke?  "And mom, he said "I can speak English some bit! So I taught him how to say 'a little bit,' and now he wants to sit by me in school and wait in line by me and he walked home with me and he lives right across the street and oh, I'm so glad I have a friend who can talk to me!!" 

Ella enjoys the girls in her class, but she's frustrated by the language barrier.  She said today one of the girls in her class pulled another's ponytail, and Ella piped up, saying "you know, that's not very nice."  But it was in English, and for whatever reason, the victim thought that Ella was taunting instead of supporting, and turned around and yanked on Ella's hair in turn. But Ella took it gracefully: "She probably just was angry."  Ella understands tempers.

The boys and I had to head out of the house this afternoon for some groceries, and we took the bus to a store that was a little farther away but better-stocked.  I'm always struck by how kind everyone is on trains and trams.  I usually have Joey in his stroller, and there's always someone who offers to help lift him up or down the stairs.  But there are strollers everywhere, so people are well-used to needy mothers. 

And strollers seem to be a bit of a religion in Zürich: they're oh-so-chic, with infants in large buggy-style prams and toddlers and youngsters lying, slanted, on something rather like a cot than a chair.  Either way, the child is always always immobilized, cocooned in something that looks like a sleeping bag and a pacifier in the mouth. Except my sloppy Joe.  I was actually stopped on the street last week (when the weather was balmy, in the 50s) by a woman who was concerned that Joey's bare legs were showing as he waved and kicked his legs. After she realized I couldn’t understand her earnest tirade, she slowed down and refined her scolding to "Er ist kalt!"

"Naw," I told her, "Er ist glücklich." He is happy. Joey, pacifierless, grinned his support.

Well, today, a kindred spirit (as Anne Shirley and Ella would say) of Joey's helped him on the train: an honest-to-goodness barefoot philosopher. Alex was absolutely riveted by his leathery feet paired with wool coat, but had the good sense to whisper his comment: "Mom, um, can I take off my shoes, too?"

Off to explore options for our winter vacation. We have to come up with something that can compete with Seattle