Lucas drew this for me on a day when he stayed home sick.

I went to two parent meetings this week, one for first grade and one for sixth.

In first grade, we parents don’t all know each other. We are reaching our way into new relationships, new trusts. We have a new teacher and we’re working out things like how to handle Michaelmas with our little ones, lunch sharing, who has dangerous nut allergies, and how the kids are supporting each other through the change and challenge of first grade, with desks, worktime, mental math, after care, etc. We played get-to-know-you games. Within the first moments, a clever and gregarious dad had us all laughing. We have a long way to go together. It was a good start.

Our class teacher taught us this quote from Rudolf Steiner:
“Form is movement come to rest.”

This makes for a nice segue. First graders are learning their first form drawings. The class is forming. The parent body is forming.

In sixth grade, we class parents know each other well. We’ve volunteered together; chaperoned together; sewed, cooked, and worked together. Over the last five years (or more), we’ve built friendships that mirror—or even contrast—the friendships the children have with one another. We have supported each other through tough emotional times, through change and loss and struggle, through moments of great celebration like births and birthdays, new jobs. We have a new teacher in this class, too. And she has both the joy and challenge of winning over and leading a cohesive, cooperating parent body.

And though taking two evenings away to meet with new and old friends at school is an inconvenience, it’s also deeply satisfying to be in community. See, parenting can be lonely work. It can feel as though one is standing on the shore, trying to direct and guide the ocean waves—“You, come now.” “You, not so far!” “Wait, not yet, I’m not ready.” Stand your ground. Bend when appropriate. Sink or swim.

We parents don’t all make the same decisions with and for our families. We don’t always see eye-to-eye, or have the same value system. Families come in different shapes and sizes, with different routines, different pastimes, different stuff. We sometime crave more or less connection. But despite these contrasts, we are all here on this journey together. Our trip through Waldorf as parents is a kind of echo of our children’s experience, or maybe the base note that lies underneath their intricate melody. We get to paint and carve wood less frequently than they do, but along the way, and by involving ourselves and intersecting with the school, the class, the parent body, and the festivals, we have the opportunity to find soul-enriching connection and learning just the same.

Last night our class teacher taught us how to make a geometric drawing. (See what the children have been up to in the photo above.) We got to use our children’s high-end, magnificent, school-supplied tools: the sexiest compass I’ve ever touched, shiny metal rulers, mechanical pencils, a 30-60-90 drafting triangle. We made a circle on our paper and added six intersecting circles, forming a flower inside with six petals. It took time. We had to listen and concentrate. Our class teacher had to be precise in her verbal instructions. It was a taste of the kind of demanding and beautiful work our children are doing in their main lesson.

It also formed a visual metaphor for where our sixth grade child is in his or her development. This is the soulful part: the teacher allowed us to experience the meaning through the metaphor of drawing. The twelve rays we drew represented the twelve main subjects they will be studying this year: geometry, Michaelmas, minerology, Roman history, physics, astronomy, business math, the Fall of Rome and the Golden Age of Islam, geography, math/percentages, medieval history. She included review/sleep as a ray—a key component to their learning and processing of the curriculum. The twelve rays find their way to the center, into the soul life of the child.

We talked about how sixth graders need form, order, and support in this because they are not quite able to order themselves yet. They are competent, but not organized. Self-aware but not self-possessed. They are special individuals who crave conformity and unity. They are forming. Each of the drawings above is the same form, but look how individual the expression of it turned out. Amazing.

…

Oh—the Michaelmas dragon is going to be AWESOME!

Last Tuesday, September 3, was our first day back at school. I was over the moon to get some hours to myself. The boys were excited, but Lucas pretended to be sad about summertime coming to a close for this photo. The first morning was playful and optimistic.

Asher is in first grade this year and Lucas is in sixth! This is one of those milestone moments when you realize, wow, time has passed! Somehow Lucas’s new haircut makes him seem so much older.

See, Asher was calm, cool, and collected, right? Lucas acted somewhat blasé about the whole thing that first morning. Though I knew that he was very, very jazzed to get to spend his days with his friends and classmates again. Lucas is also excited about having a new teacher this year. He is rededicating himself to his studies, and to his first school sport, cross country running, which is terrific.

Unfortunately for Asher, the first day of school proved to be difficult and scary. He became clingy and and weepy when it was time to go into his classroom.

Shortly afterward the school held the annual welcome ceremony. All the classes and many parents attended. This turned out to be a stressful thing for Asher, who had never been to anything like it. He wept a bit until his new teacher brought him to sit by her at the end of the row. She rubbed his back and helped him to calm down during the speeches. The tradition is that the second graders give the first graders a flower as a welcome to the school. The teachers also give flowers to the senior class. It’s a lovely acknowledgement of their place in this beautiful Waldorf journey.

Then, each senior student takes the hand of a first grader and as a group they walk through the school. The older student shows the younger one around, explains where everything is (playgrounds, bathrooms, classrooms, library, farm, etc.). This lovely young lady was Asher’s buddy. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but he was overwhelmed and sad.

He spent a fair amount of time that evening worrying about the next day. There were lots of tears and fear.

Day 2 for Asher started very rocky, but got better. When Ian and I picked him up after school, Asher was in good spirits and said, “It was better than I thought it would be.” Then he showed us his first form drawing and gave Daddy a drawing lesson. He said he met the Spanish teacher and learned some German words for colors. He was in good spirits, and enjoyed spending some special time with Dad in the afternoon.

By evening it was a different story, however. I was forced to admit that tiredness got the better of him and he … well, lost his composure. Again with the tears, the wracking sobs, and “Mama, I just don’t think I can make it through first grade!”

So, with plenty of cuddles and reassuring words, I lay beside him in the dark, and taught him that no matter how bad or scared he may feel, five deep, long breaths would ALWAYS make him feel better. I held his sad, shaking body and remembered that there was a time, only six years ago, when our positions were reversed. When his soft, trusting, tiny, breathing presence was the thing that kept me going when I was very sick, depressed, and terrified.

As exhausting as this mothering job is, as ceaseless and hard and infuriating as it can be sometimes, I am still amazed at the privilege I possess: to see this little being unfold and encounter the world. To see him experience his challenges and stand up and face them, to ride them out until they cease being challenges and transform into achievements. It is an honor of the highest kind.

Asher is teaching me anew about Michaelmas this year, in a way I didn’t anticipate. I am the squire who is tasked with helping the little knight onto the field.

The school days that followed have been progressively better as he became more used to his new school routine, the new expectations, new children in his class, a new teacher, desks, lessons, etc. He lamented to me several times, “Mama, it’s just all so new!” It’s true. There is so much to learn. We have talked a lot about bravery—that one can only be brave if one is also afraid. And that courage lives in us, even when we feel small and scared.

By Friday, “It was the best day yet!”

And now we’re halfway through the second week. No more tears. Asher’s teacher and his friends all report that he’s now fine. Yesterday he stayed for aftercare and even that went well. Although he was worried about it beforehand, after school he said, “It was fun.” And this morning, “Mama, you don’t have to worry about me and nap. I mean, I’m fine with being picked up and fine with staying for nap.”

So, with some patience, talking about our feelings, extra cuddles and songs, and some quiet routine-building, we seem to have made it over this big scary adjustment. I am so proud of him!

Lucas, suffice it to say, has dived into school. He’s happy, connected, and working hard. Homework every night, which is new, and running practice twice a week after school. He has a lot more on his plate this year, but he’s approaching it with joy.

We’re in the final stretch of the school year. My kids are about to change overnight from Kindergartner and fifth grader to first grader and sixth grader. These last few days at school are spent packing up the classroom and moving items into the sixth grade room, horsing around, and enjoying lots of time with friends. The Kindergartners will spend as much of the next two days as possible outside. On Friday we’ll go to an annual end-of-year party at the home of one of Lucas’s classmates, where we always celebrate with style and great joy.

In a way, it’s no small accomplishment that they’ve completed this year. Their challenges may seem small compared to those that adults experience, but they are significant for the children.

My little Asher has grown from a somewhat shy baby to a confident, clowning boy of the world in the two years he’s been in Kindergarten. He is highly social, a great listener and storyteller, a good friend, a very fast runner, a heartthrob, and a proficient helper. He has mad cleanup skills now, thanks to Kindergarten, and his art has moved lightyears ahead of where it was even just a few months ago. I see so many signs in him that he is ready, that he’s “graduating” and moving on to first grade.

Yesterday we gathered in the Kindergarten yard to celebrate and watch the “olders” from both the White Rose and the Red Rose Kindergarten classes join together with their new first-grade teacher and ceremonially walk over to the first-grade classroom.

The parents created an arch over the walkway and the new teacher, Miss H, led them under it.

Many of the children were all smiles, several were nervous, several were super goofy; mine was, for this moment at least, acting jaded when he saw me and Daddy. But I saw him scampering along with the rest of the children, clearly enjoying himself.

They crossed the campus to the first grade, little ducklings all in a row.

It’s exciting to see these kids growing and changing, some of whom we’ve known since they were babies. This group has been playing together for a long time. And for Ian and me, there are so many new friends to make!

We parents got to wait and visit with each other until the “rising first graders” returned. Of course, the current first graders aren’t actually ready to relinquish their classroom, and our kids came back to their yard and classrooms to finish out the week.

Lucas, at 11, is finishing up a glorious, fifth-grade year, what some call the “golden year” of the school-age child. He reveled in woodworking, learned to enjoy orchestra class and playing his violin, improved in all subjects, and ached all year for their study of the Greeks to begin and then soaked up every morsel of it once it did. He trained his body all year to compete in the Pentathlon, and has continued to do so since the big day. He is every day more independent and competent and it’s a both joy to see and a huge help in my life. I’ve been experiencing some nostalgia lately because I’ve been going through old photos and working on our end-of-year gift to his departing class teacher, our beloved Ms. D, who is retiring this year. My how these fifth-graders have changed!

And my son is eager for new, exciting experiences, more alone time, more time away from his little brother, and more responsibility (specifically when and only when he wants it). I am highly cognizant of this and am working to find him experiences that stretch his previous limits. I’m thinking of it as measured risk-taking.

And so, summertime is almost here. I can see it in all the children. They are boundless and expansive and loud, as if their spirits are no longer contained within their bodies. The teachers look both pleased and tired. The parents … well, there is a kind of “oh, I can’t wait for summer” on their lips or behind their eyes. And I kind of get it.

Now, in the interest of honest, full disclosure, I admit to feeling great trepidation about the coming 13 weeks of summer vacation. 13. 13 weeks. That’s a lot of days. I always feel this way at the end of the school year. The eagerness I felt for summer as a child is very different from how I feel now that I’m a parent. I have some excitement and daydreams and some wonderful plans for us, but I also know that it won’t be a huge bowl of cherries every day.

The boys will be engaged in any number of wonderful activities and play. Swim and summer camp and weekend camping. They will be blessed with the “gift of boredom” and plenty of nature time and unscheduled time. They will do chores. They will bicker and negotiate and hurt each other and cooperate—all of which is essential to both their growth as humans and their relationship as brothers.

We will make the most of it, the best we can. And we will learn so much. We will all soak up all that Summer has to give us, and we will level up.

Last Friday was our school Michaelmas festival and we really go all out at Sacramento Waldorf School. While the pageant take the same form each time, every year there is a new dragon to conquer. I think this is an interesting metaphor. Aren’t we always facing some new dragon or other, along with our familiar ones, of course.

The sixth grade class creates and then mans the dragon. This year’s beast was magnificent! Those kids and their teacher should be very proud.

The fifth graders, Lucas’s class, played the folk music (flutes and xylophones) while the village children (the third graders) did their folk dance.

Here is a shot of George kneeling and receiving the blessing of the Archangel Michael.

And then George must face the ferocious dragon, for it is threatening the villagers and the peace of the land.

This year’s “battle” was particularly dynamic with all that hot dragon breath.

Each class has a verse they say and I wish I knew them all but I certainly do not. This year I learned that the fifth grade verse is the one that suggests the plan for bringing the dragon under control.

“Keep your courage from shrinking!
This beast requires some thinking.
Let’s make a geometric plan;
Surround the creature, if we can.
With courage, strength, and balance,
We’ll make a strong alliance.”

The the older students surround the dragon and the youngest students (second graders) join them, wearing their knight tunics and with wood swords they have made. It is a powerful alliance, indeed.

After the dragon is tamed with communal commitment and cleverness, and not might, George manfully leads the dragon away from the town. He has done his job well.

This festival never fails to inspire me because of its message and the great effort the school and each class puts in to make it so wonderful. Each year I get something new out of it. I hope your Michaelmas was full of shining courage and deep meaning.

I am delighted that school has begun. We’ve had a goooooood LOOOOOOONG stretch of summer vacation (88 days, to be precise), and we enjoyed so many wonderful adventures. But the time has come to try new things, learn more, make new friends, and engage with the world around us in a new way. The boys are both ready for it. They’ve embraced going back to school with enthusiasm.

Lucas is in fifth grade now. Suddenly that seems amazing. He is charming, capable, dynamic, and creative. He is looking forward to this year, especially studying the Greeks and the end-of-fifth-grade pentathlon. This semester he is taking woodworking for the first time, and is very excited about that. He’s waffling about staying with violin or switching to flute. He seems, well, ready to take on a lot more now. He wants to study. He wants to make his own lunch. He wants to spend his own money on school supplies. Our job is to support him in his new responsibilities. I’m grateful that we established a good chore routine this summer, as I feel schoolwork will fit in nicely.

Also this week, Lucas has started his first karate class, which is being offered through the local Parks and Recreation department. He has wanted to do martial arts for a long time, especially after an exciting and brief taste of Brazilian jiujitsu. Since we are dabbling and on a budget, this is the right solution for the time being. It helps that Lucas’s best friend is also in the class. Both Ian and I are favorably impressed with the sensei.

Asher’s first day of his second year of Kindergarten was a day after Lucas’s first day of school. Asher is an “older” this year, which means he is an older Kindergartner who will be going to first grade next year. He knows the ropes, and is expected to help the younger students adjust to school. The olders get to work on making their Michael swords right away. This is a big deal for a little boy. He has looked with covetous eyes on Lucas’s wooden sword for many years. Apart from some new children, the Kindergarten is the same and he’s comfortable and happy there. His lovely teachers have welcomed him back with open arms.

Now, I do feel a tiny little bit bittersweet about the end of summer. Rather than focusing on the longed-for experiences that we didn’t have, I’m going to think about all we did to celebrate life and living together. Not only did we make it through, we made it beautiful too.

We had a beautiful time camping with Lucas’s fifth grade class last the other weekend. We went to D. L. Bliss State Park on Lake Tahoe. Everything about the weekend was lovely.

I was so taken with the beauty of this place. We are definitely coming here again. We hiked on Saturday along the lake and were treated to views like this. Asher, Ian, and I hiked almost four miles, which was impressive for our 5-year-old.

All along our hike we were treated with exquisite sites: bleached, dead manzanita branches and glittering green and gold leaves of living manzanita; vanilla-scented Jeffrey pine trees; sparkling lake waters in tiny coves;

sparkling lake waters in tiny coves (I could have spent my whole day here!);

a trickle of a waterfall and a wet crossing;

and wildflowers and gorgeous evergreens at every turn.

This is Asher along the hike—after a snack of trail mix and a little rest, he was ready for more.

The waters of Lake Tahoe truly are blue. Clean. Pure. Inspiring blue. With shallow bits of aquamarine to take your breath away.

We hiked all the way to Emerald Bay, where the Vikingsholm historic site is. As we three were stragglers, we were lucky to meet up with our friends in time to book up the mountain to the road  and then catch rides back to our campsite. Lucas hiked back with friends and a few parents, making a round trip of about seven and a half miles. Along the way, his sandals disintegrated. It didn’t stop him.

We spent part of Saturday afternoon and Sunday on the shore. The only problem with this place is that dogs aren’t welcome on the trails or beaches, as it’s a state park. We had our little Solstice dog with us and we like taking him camping, but I can see that this is something of a limitation. Thank goodness one of our friends was willing to keep Solstice while we hiked the trail on Saturday!

We swam in cold water, which didn’t slow the children down a wit and was surprisingly lovely, once I got use to it. The children played in kayaks and rafts. Adults sunbathed and chatted. It was relaxing and wonderful and I can’t wait to do it all again next year.

And if by chance you are wondering, Where are the photos of Lucas? It was his class camping trip after all. Well, all I can say is he never once sat still long enough for me to take his picture. He was riding his bike, off with friends, hiking, or in the water the whole time. And, for the most part, we tried to give him his space. Here is one of the few I have of him, out in a raft on the lake.

In May, before the end of the school year, Lucas and Ian got to go on the fourth-grade class trip to Malakoff Diggins, a California State Historic Park that was once a hydraulic mining operation in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Twenty-eight students, one class teacher, one Spanish teacher, and about ten parent volunteers/chaperones went for two and a half days. They dressed in Gold Rush period clothing, cooked their meals over an open fire, hiked, made rope, made candles, built their own benches for sitting around the campfire, learned about gold mining, danced, listened to a storyteller entertainer, and forged their own iron hooks. They had a marvelous time and came back filthy and tired, but very satisfied.

The class made wonderful wood, tin, and plexiglass lanterns in school, so they would have a way to see at night. I’m told that the food was wonderful the whole time.

These are the cabins Ian stayed in when he was a boy, going camping with his mother and sister. Malakoff Diggins is very special to him and he jumped at the chance to chaperone. I’m so glad he got to do it, both for his sake and for Lucas’s sake. For Lucas, it was fun having his dad there to share in the adventure.

There was an old, old piano in the saloon. Lucas and some other students got to play it. They also played cards and ordered root beer from Ian, the barkeep. To get their second root beer, they had to tell Ian a joke, a fact, or a riddle.

The blacksmith was amazing, according to Ian. He was a volunteer who, in his time of working with children at Malakoff Diggins, had helped over 10,000 kids make iron hooks like this one. He had his system down pat, with every child getting the opportunity to both work the bellows and hammer the iron hooks into shape. Isn’t Lucas’s hook terrific?

The parents in attendance brought a wagon load of essential skills along to help: camping, cooking, nursing, building, child herding, and much more.

Everyone even tried square dancing and country dancing.

A few brave kids brought their guitars and played music around the campfire. I’m so impressed by this! These kids are so comfortable with each other, as they’ve been together since first grade (and some since preschool).

This is how Lucas looked when he returned home after two and a half days—filthy and soooo tired.

These photos are just some of my favorite shots. I took a bunch of “before” shots on the morning they all left town, when the kids were clean, fresh-faced, and eager. Ian took all the wonderful photographs of the kids at Malakoff Diggins, for which I am so grateful. I had a TON of fun editing the photos when they returned, adding filters and making them look old-timey—something altogether new to me. Anyway, aren’t they the most beautiful children in the Wild West?

I am so grateful that my son got to experience this! Although every child in California studies California history in fourth grade, few get to immerse themselves in a Gold Rush era town for a few days, living and working like people used to do. These children, because of their Waldorf background, took to this stuff so easily. Make our own rope? Of course! My heartfelt thanks goes to the teachers and brave parents to took them. And thank you to Malakoff Diggins for having such a terrific program.

{This letter was started on January 31, worked on again February 24, and finished today, February 28.}

Dear Asher,

Happy birthday, my love! You are 5-years-old! You are so very excited to be 5 now. Every day for the last week I had to tell you how many sleeps until your birthday.

So let me paint a little picture about you and your life right now. You are the most precocious child, always chatting and singing through nearly every moment. You tell wonderful and hair-raising stories to anyone who will listen, especially about Earthland and your adventures there, your pet dragons of various breeds, the battles you engage in to save the world, and your wife Jennifer, who is having a baby with you. (This development is very recent.) The baby is a boy and his name is Morlassus. I hope to hear more about Jennifer and Morlassus.

You are very much at home in the Red Rose Kindergarten at our Waldorf school. Your teachers both adore you and you seem rather popular. Yesterday you told me that there are two girls who are in love with you, but since you were being discreet, you only told me the first sound of their names. What a gentleman you are. Lucas promptly guessed the girls’ names, and you eagerly confirmed he was right.  It seems that you have many friends that you run around with on the playground. I hear a lot about Elijah, Lilly, Enzo, Landon, and of course, Noah, and many others. It’s fun to watch your world expanding to include new people. When I’ve had the privilege of watching your class during circle time, I’ve been delighted to see that you enjoy the songs and movements so much. You pay attention and participate with joy. You love to clown with your buddies.

I hear more about battling from you than I remember hearing from your brother when he was your age. I don’t know if that’s part of being a younger sibling, for your interests tend toward the more mature things your brother likes.

At home, you and Lucas spend a lot of your free time together. Usually you get along pretty well, although now that you are older, the two of you fight more often. When you do, there’s all kind of shouting and often tears. I think you work very hard to get your point across and, in the long run, I think this is good for you. You stick up for yourself well; you push back when he’s trying to control or manipulate you. You are possessive of your things and sometimes don’t like being told how to play with them, which Lucas often does. At other times, you are happy to let him lead your games and imagination play. When the two of you work together, and allow each other space to create, you can be so agreeable and amazing—magical things happen in your minds. That part is fun to watch quietly, out of the corner of my eye so you don’t catch me. Together you are making up your own language, which as far as I can tell involves both of you making up words and Lucas correcting yours. You both enjoy hatching and training creatures and playing with your pet dragons.

~~~~

February 24

Asher, I can’t believe how much time has passed since your birthday. Here it is almost a month later and I still haven’t finished this letter. I’ll continue to try to paint a picture of who you are now.

At 5, you are formidable. You are confident and brave. You seem to know what you want and what you’re about most of the time. Although you often happily follow in your brother’s footsteps, you also sometimes pursue your own path with a kind of determination and certainty that I deeply admire.

You talk constantly. When you’re not talking, you are singing or jibber-jabbering in a steady stream-of-consciousness narrative.  I love to hear you singing, and I think you have a beautiful voice. Sometimes you and Lucas will sing together; he takes the low parts and you take the high and you weave your music together in a spontaneous and exciting way. You seem to have an instinct for it. I confess I sometimes find it hard to think in the midst of all your music-making. But I know you are processing your world, changing it through the power of your words, figuring out how things work, and joyfully plucking from it all the wacky humor and opportunities for fun as possible.

You also tell lots of stories. You enjoy tricking people, so you now tell stories that aren’t true in the hopes that people will believe you and you can have a giggle. And sometimes, I think you believe your stories yourself. The line between reality and fantasy is, well, rarely observed and certainly never hard and fast. You have been known to doorbell ditch, both from the outside and the inside of the house, by which I mean that you will knock on a hard surface until an adult goes to answer the door, only to find no one there.

For fun, you love to play with LEGOs and building spaceships is your specialty. You also enjoy blocks, but choose them less frequently nowadays. Once in a while you pick up a stuffed animal or your little Waldorf house elf Miko and play and play. When Lucas is home, you two enjoy “fighting” or “training” in martial arts. Lucas has convinced you that he is in fact a martial arts ninja master, and you are his willing and obedient student. He’s even got you calling him Master within the context of your game. Sometimes this play is relaxed and groovy, and you both enjoy it a lot. Other times, the sparring can lead to hurts. You were both given lightsabers for Christmas, and you love to battle each other in the evening, when the lightsabers glow beautifully in the darkness. Basically, you and Lucas are best friends and brothers, which is something special, I think—you compete, fight, and play with each other; you stick up for and cover for each other; and you learn from each other constantly. I often watch with wonder at how you interact, knowing that you’re both learning so much and gaining so much by being brothers. It’s marvelous.

We’re at the cabin in Tahoe for a family vacation now. Today, I watched you playing in the snow with great vigor and enthusiasm—never mind that it’s been two years since we came to play in the snow. You rambled through the woods near the cabin, enjoying your freedom and time to explore. You threw snowballs at your brother and didn’t mind when you got hit yourself. You never got too cold or out of sorts. I love to let you and your brother roam. Opportunities to do so safely are fewer than I would wish. To see you tromping through the woods, following your nose or the fairies or whatever it is that pulls you onward is a wonderful thing.

~~~~

February 28

Your latest obsession is Dungeons and Dragons. You now talk about it constantly. We probably should have held off on this for a few years, but as your brother is the perfect age for this kind of role playing and you absolutely will not be left out, we have compromised. Daddy is a wonderful DM. He has painted miniatures for your characters according to your descriptions of them and he is creating quests for you and Lucas that are good for you, requiring that your characters work together as friends and companions. I like this, for it’s a way of exercising your imaginations in cooperative ways instead of competitive ones. Once, many years ago, a friend told me how to raise brothers, for he himself was raising two boys in a way quite opposite how his own parents raised him and his brother. He said, “You must find ways to make your boys work together, even if that means they strive against you, the parent, as a team. Avoid all situations where your boys are striving against each other. That is how to foster brotherhood and closeness in your sons.” I’ll never forget that, and my heart tells me he is right.

Anyway, you are currently playing D&D as a “dorf” named Shortbow, which may be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You are beardless, because you don’t care for beards, and you are an adult. Not a child. Not a teenager. You like to inject all sorts of things into the story Daddy is telling during a game.

You have great new skills now. You can snap your fingers. You can throw a mean snowball. You recently braved the two-wheel bike (with training wheels) and Lucas gave you his old bike for your birthday. You ride it often on our street now, while Lucas rides his bike or his scooter. You seem to like the speed you can achieve now. You also can hop on one foot quite a distance and you can count pretty well up to 30, missing a few numbers along the way. Same with your alphabet, but we’re not worrying about that. I think it is rather funny that your interest in letters has come mainly from the kids on the playground. (Take that, Doubters. Waldorf kids not pushed will learn their letters and numbers in their own time, probably in Kindergarten.) And of course, you pay attention to your brother writing and practicing his spelling words. One of my favorite sights is seeing you both absorbed in a book or writing away in your own blank notebooks. A few days ago you wrote an entire page of “spells” in crisp, neat, blocky, made-up scribble letters. I love them.

I can go on and on, of course, for you are endlessly fascinating to me. I love you completely and I’m so proud of you.

Love,

Mama

On Wednesday of last week, Ian, Lucas, and I got to spend some time in Asher’s Red Rose Kindergarten class. We got to participate in the morning circle time and then the teacher put a golden silk cape on him and a golden crown with a golden star on it. She then told the story of Asher’s life so far. It went something like this …

Once there was a star child playing in the starry gardens of the sky with other star children and his angel guide. One day, he looked down and saw a beautiful blue-green marble glowing down in the sky below him. He saw children playing in the woods, flying kites while beautiful waves crashing on sandy beaches, and babies snug in their mothers’ arms and thought to himself, I’d like to go there. He told his angel guide what he wanted to do, and the angel replied, “Yes, you may go down to the sparkling world. I will go and find you a mommy and a daddy, who will love you and take care of you and welcome you into their family.”

Then the angel guide came down to the earth and found a mommy and a daddy who loved each other very much. They were ready for a baby to love, who would be a brother for their son and a cherished new child in their family. And so the angel guide helped the star child slide down the rainbow bridge into the welcoming arms of his loving family, where he could learn, and play, and grow, and be himself.

{Teacher leads Asher around the circle, asking the blessing of the stars (other children, who make hand motions showing their blessing), the sun (more children blessing as he passes), and the moon (more children blessing Asher with hand motions. Then, she leads Asher to walk on a rainbow cloth and he crosses and comes to my lap.}

His family named him Asher. When he was an infant, he drank mama milk and grew to be healthy and roly-poly. He was a happy baby and he laughed all the time.

{Teacher rings a bell and places it on a gold star on the table. There are five stars on the table.} When he was one year old, he learned to crawl and visited Mama Ocean. He felt the sand in his hands and on his feet.

{Teacher rings a bell and places it on the second gold star} When he was two years old, he learned to walk and talk. He giggled a lot, especially when his big brother was silly. He went on an airplane with his family and grandparents to an island far away and met some sea turtles.

{Teacher rings a bell and places it on the third gold star} When he was three years old, he went to preschool and made many new friends. He sang and painted and played in the garden, helping to plant the seeds. He also camped in the desert and saw many colorful things.

{Teacher rings a bell and places it on the fourth gold star} When he was four years old, he enjoyed visiting the woods and the beach very much. He played with his brother and joined the Red Rose Kindergarten, where he made many, many more friends.

{Teacher rings a bell and places it on the fifth gold star} And now that he is five, he is very alive. And we are celebrating Asher’s birthday. {Teacher lights a special beeswax birthday candle that I decorated for him at the beginning of the year. All the children sing a birthday song to him.}

Asher was then given two gifts. One was this beautiful book full of birthday drawings from his classmates and his two teachers.

This is Mrs. L’s drawing in Asher’s birthday book.

This is a drawing from a sweet classmate.

Asher opened his second gift, his very own handmade House Elf. This doll is about 8 inches tall and features a tiny star on the top of his hat.

Asher has named him Miko, and played and played with him this week.

Although Ian and Lucas went to work and class, respectively, I stayed in the Kindergarten for the whole morning. I got to interact with beautiful children and see Asher play with his friends. I got to guess the names of some kids’ Little Ones (small Waldorf dolls that each child has as his or her own special friend).  During snack time we ate oatmeal and the strawberry fairy cakes I baked. We played both inside and outside, did clean-up chores (with each child accomplishing his or her assigned job), and I watched entranced as Asher sat in teacher’s lap and played the lyre, while his classmates rested on the rug. Seeing 18 children lying quietly for 10 minutes or so was nothing short of miraculous. Finally, we ended our beautiful Kindergarten day by going for a walk into the woods all the way to the great fallen oak tree, which my boys and I call the Bee Tree because there is an active beehive in a hole in the trunk of the tree. It is a good 15 feet in the air because the tree roots and branches are propping the trunk up high, like a great archway. It’s a magical place and I love it there. The children climbed the great tree’s branches and then played tag until it was time to walk back.

Asher and I left school then and went to have lunch together.

Is it any wonder that my little son feels so secure and nourished in this school environment?

Two weekends ago we got to enjoy the Sacramento Waldorf School Harvest Faire and Children’s Festival. Every year I am struck by the amount of time and devotion our school community gives to this event. And their love and attention to detail is evident everywhere—in every nook and corner there is great beauty and intention. Here are a just a few beautiful scenes I caught on camera.

I think I’ll just let the photos speak for me.