being 3


sometimes i wonder what she’ll remember about being 3. i think, selfishly, these pictures almost show what i remember from that age. it’s what i want her to remember too i guess. how beautiful wet leaves, velvet moss, orange leaves are. slimy creatures that live under bricks and rocks. mysterious backyards near your own house. i pretty clearly remember being with my mom, all of the time. in the 60′s there was no pre-school. we went on walks, went to the junk shop around the corner, listened to records, dancing while she cleaned the house. giulietta, my daughter, started pre-school a few months ago. she had been begging to go for a long time. once in she didn’t seem to like it as much as we thought she would. then her 4 hr. schedule there was extended to 7 hrs., there was an opening. so we took it. her teachers say she’s blossoming at school, slowly, meaning she’s slowly making friends and playing with the others. the 7 hr. schedule allows me to work, at home. i could easily work 7 hrs. a day and still have work left over, it’s that much right now. i love all of it, love doing the made-to-order dresses, the collections twice a year. still the fact is friday i found myself sewing and crying, something i hadn’t done in a long time but have been prone to in the past. i missed her. when i picked her up early she told me she’d been crying at school too because she missed me. so clearly, that’s enough of the 7 hr. preschool hell for both of us. how many times is she going to be 3. and what is it she’s going to remember?

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