Pretender

"OK, let's pretend that I'm actually 10 years old, not 7, and that my name is Suzie because that's my favorite name..." This sounds easy enough until Dylan's lego starship comes in and blasts "Suzy." Then..."DYYYLAAAN...you always do that!"

Taylor is showing signs of being the oldest. She's a doer who loves to lead, compete, impress, and please. While she's low maintenance she's as exhausting (in a wonderful way, of course) as the other two. Mackenzie needs attending to, Dylan sucks energy from me as I watch him cruising about in hyper drive, and Taylor demands attention. "Dad, watch this...Daddy, I can do that too...Hey, check this out..." I think every child deserves more attention then we're capable of giving them. Such is life or, dat is het leven. Speaking of which, Taylor is now at the age where, "Can I have some more _____" is met with, "sure, you know where it is...help yourself."

So many things each child does just makes me want to grab them and say, "You can't even imagine how much I love you." This is only scratching the surface but: With Mackenzie it's her gentle hugs and kisses. For Dylan it's his big brown(e) eyes accompanying his contagious laugh. For Taylor it is the many versions of her smile I've put on this post.

Bananas are sometimes called telephones around our house...my fault. The pretend phone conversation is short before Taylor and the other two eat their "phones." A bunch of bananas doesn't last two days, barely longer than it takes to consume our puny one liter milk containers (1/4 gallon).

Recently, before we visited the states, Taylor was trying to convince Dylan that nothing could penetrate a forcefield, not even a ghost. As far as I know neither of these things exist, so I let them work it out amongst themselves. The situation ended in frustration.

My efforts to download software that will put my cell phone pictures on our computer have failed...I quit...here's a story without pictures because, as usual, I forgot the camera on a day that should have been photographed. I've inserted different pictures of Taylor (just because I can).

A strange day that occurred months ago...

Our school drags the children from the classroom often for field trips...maybe "events" would be a better word. I often drive a couple of children since they don't always take a bus. I like this. On one occasion Taylor and I had the girls singing along with the Ramones..."ay-oh-let's go!" Sometimes a kid will speak a word or two of English because she's in the English speaking car. On this day though, we took the bus with the first thru fourth classes. The 5th and 6th classes came too, but rode their bikes for the 3 miles (or so). How's that for a cultural difference.

This day was "Sports Day" and was led by the gym teacher: Jufvrouw Sim (Jufvrouw is a female teacher and is usually shortened to Juf. --it's pronounced "yoof"). I wore my light running pants thinking I'd be spotting a few cartwheels. I was wrong and probably should of worn another layer. I spoke with Taylor's teacher on the bus and she stated that nobody, not even Juf. Sim, was sure what to expect. While this trip was to a military domain, that meant nothing since many of these areas are now used as parks.

The bus left us in a wooded area in the rainy, windy, chilly weather that Belgium is known for. We hiked through the forest, guided by signs and markers and startled by occasional gunfire. I doubt even the 7 year olds believed it was real, but it marked the beginning of a fun and unusual day. The 15 minute hike through the woods may have been the most "sporty" thing we did all day.

At the other end of the woods were police vans which shuttled us quickly to the next spot with sirens blaring. Taylor said she liked the police car ride...I told her the cops might not be smiling next time (or something to that effect). As we stood in line to get our faces camouflaged...yes, you read that right...I noticed a woman wearing what were obviously American patches on her uniform and told Taylor so. I figured she must be in a NATO exchange program or something. I was wrong. The woman spoke to me in Dutch and, as it turned out, wasn't even in the military, unlike most of the people we met that day. I was a bit embarrassed as I explained my mistake to Taylor.

I stopped blushing by the time we got to the "tank" where everyone had the chance to put on a helmet and do a "walk through." I realized at this point that I might like this day as much as Taylor. I asked the soldier nearby if this was actually an armored personnel carrier and I was set straight again. It was a mobile howitzer cannon. The area I thought was meant to carry troops was actually for the recoil of the cannon. How can they think a 7 year old girl is as interested in this stuff as a forty year old guy? I pictured some of my family and friends cringing as he told me that this equipment had been sold to Lebanon and would be in the middle east next year. Don't be concerned, this equipment is seriously outdated, and no, we shouldn't invade Lebanon.

The rain drove us into a hangar of some sort with different types of games and activities for the children. Taylor proved a quick study at the stilts, probably aided by balancing skills she learned while conquering the pogo stick. Again, it's that oldest thing.

Belgians seem to love their "jumpies," those air filled things that aren't quite as fun, or dangerous, as a trampoline. Most children's events here aren't complete without one, and this day was no different. It was located under a roof, but the lack of hangar walls didn't protect the adults from the wind bringing in a cold mist. Thus, to keep warm, the teachers and I decided to join in. This jumpy was split in the middle by a hill, for lack of better words, that was impossible for most 7 year olds and some adults to conquer...but not for forty year old guys with gray chest hair. Soon I was dragging wet socked, stinky footed kids to the top, only to see their faces moments later as they slid down the other side and came around for another go. For thirty minutes, or so, I was more than just the English speaking papa van Taylor.

Then, finally, that armored personnel carrier...we put on helmets and cruised around a few hard corners. I was right for the first time that day.

On the way to the four wheelers Taylor's teacher, chuckling, told me that Lianna, Louisa, and Taylor were playing "Mackenzie." I think it was Lianna's game and I'm not sure of the rules, but one of the kids pretended to be Mackenzie and the other two probably followed orders (since they all know Mackenzie pretty well). Yes, Belgian children love little kids too, and curly haired "miss attitude" draws some attention around their small school (there's only one class per grade). The 7 year old children drove the course on miniature 4 wheelers. Taylor did well considering she's never done it before...a few kids ran into (small) trees.

Daan gathered flowers for Taylor for the bus ride back home but apparently couldn't gather the courage to deliver. I can remember those days, too, but I think I was twelve, not seven. Such is het leven.