Recital
Miranda gave her first ever public violin recital today.
We planned it some time in advance, and Andrew took the day off to go with her, and he brought his cello and played a bit for the kids.
Miranda played four pieces, and she did very well! She bowed after every single piece, a big dramatic bow from the waist, flopping her head forward. Quite the sight to see. And hear.
Numbers
Miranda and I got into a discussion of numbers. She wanted to know how high they went, and when they stopped. I explained to her that they never stop, that they're infinite. She and I discussed this for some time and she kept asking about it for a while, and then was quiet for a bit.
Then she said, "But letters end," and I agreed that they do.
Later, she was talking to her Nanna and said, "Numbers go on forever," and Nanna said, "Yes, that's right," but Miranda then added, in a quiet voice, "But they really stop at 20."
Cranky Pants
I have a phrase I use lately, to describe someone (including myself) being in a bad mood. It's basically "Someone's got their cranky pants on!"
A little while ago, I bought Miranda some nice second-hand clothes, and I referred to them as "play clothes" (because theyr'e not dressy). She was very pleased with them, and quite taken with the idea of pants that you're supposed to play in...
She said to me, "These are my play pants, so I have to go play!" and ran around in circles laughing...
Later, she said to me, "These are my play pants," and I confirmed that. She then asked thoughtfully, "Which ones are my cranky pants?"
School
Monday morning we took Miranda to a meeting at the primary school she's going to attend. They've got a gifted student program, loads of extras like art, dance, music, foreign language, it looks like a great place for her. She was excited but very nervous (kept picking her nose, biting her fingernails, and sucking her thumb, not necessarily in that order). She did enjoy the tour, though.
One funny thing is that on Sunday we were in the grocery store and I saw a tall Black man at the checkout. I tried really hard not to stare, but there are so few Black faces around, and I really miss seeing them. Anyway, I watched him discreetly and noticed his body langauge and I said to Andrew, "I think he's American." (Yes, American men tend to have extremely distinctive body language, and I'm not the only one who has noticed such a thing.)
Turns out this gentleman works at the school and is the basketball coach and a P.E. teacher! Doesn't mean anything in the long run, I just thought it was cool.
They even have a male prep teacher (note for non-Aussies: "Prep" is the year before Grade 1, what Americans call Kindergarten, but here, kindergarten is known as kinder and it's pre-school, whew). We don't know which teacher Miranda will have, of course, but it's nice to see men on staff. Little kids need positive male influences in their lives (part of why I like and approve of the Wiggles, actually).
So, Miss Miranda will be enrolled as soon as we finish filling in the paperwork, and I think she'll be very happy there.
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