Ten, April 2014

 Dear Ava,

In May 2013, I wrote a post about how I'd rather you play Minecraft and watch YT videos of others playing Minecraft, than watch the horrid tween sitcoms on allegedly major kid-friendly networks.  I ended up working for the platform where I published the post, and I remember I intended to move this blog over to that platform, and write there. 

But what happened instead was that I wrote a few times, and slowly the writing petered off.  Also I started writing novels. 

Recently you told me in an offhand pretending to be casual way that you like reading this, and seemed sentimental I didn't keep it up.

So here's my attempt to play catch up, aided by photos taken the year before you turned ten, a whole freaking decade old.

July 2013: you love water, you love your cousins, but you aren't particularly crazy about the central valley heat. 

Toes are more fun when they aren't all the same color.

Also in July, we took the train from the SF Bay Area to Los Angeles.

Little Rabbit and Fluffy Bun Bun came too.

We went to my dear friend's wedding, where mom and dad wore sombreros

and you wore a lovely dress and a big grin.

This may have been the age you got the task of matching your socks in the laundry, 

and instead you put the whole pile in your drawer and picked out socks at random.

I didn't care, as long as you were wearing socks.

Someone left a Scooby-Do sized mystery on our front porch.

We later found out it was our neighbor around the corner.

These are some kind of Minecraft portal thingy. 

When you read this you can let me know what they're actually called

and I might even correct it.

I wasn't kidding about the socks. It became your thing.

This was the year our sweet cat Magi got sick, and left her cat suit behind.

You loved purple, and didn't like pink, 

and tolerated just the edge of pink on these fancy new sneakers.

Somehow a rainbow ended up on your nose.  I think it washed off later.

Your best friend was "K"... who is still your good friend seven years later.

You won a couple goldfish at our friend's school carnival.

Their housing got upgraded pretty quickly, and I learned equally quickly

that goldfish muck up their water faster than other fish.

After that, we were done with fish.  Two cats and one dog were enough.

We made marshmallow Minecraft things. Creepers? Creeper snowmen? 

 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We went on a whale watching trip with your papa and cousins.

In October, we went to our family cabin in Tahoe and ice skated with "K".

It was fall, and the salmon were swimming upstream.

You did a science fair exhibit on blowing balloons from household chemicals 

mixed in a water bottle created gas. 

And played cards with some of the rabbits.

I think they let you win.

Inspired by Dinovember, I convinced some of your stuffies to steal your Halloween candy.

There was some play where you were a mouse, 

and I made a half-decent mouse costume.

We went sailing on the San Francisco Bay with some people Daddy knew.

We loved making cutout cookies, and then "painting" them with icing.

Your friend and you, hula hooping at Ocean Beach.

And always, skiing. 

I wrote about how you learned to play the recorder, and I tried to learn how to play soccer.

Then you turned 10. Happy birthday, my fantastic, precocious, lovable kid.

love, 

Mommy <3

 

Decisions, October 26, 2012

Hi Sweet Girl,

Well, we sit at a cross roads of whether we catapult you into possible fame, or gently lead you down the path, both of which, I might add, are a gamble.

You've completed 5 weeks of training in acting, modeling, and the like.  You've auditioned, and been accepted into a really large audition-like event in January where something like a kazillion agents will be present to witness you (and a kazillion other kids) act, model, dance, and sing.

Daddy and I have included you in this decision, asking the question a dozen different ways, to ascertain how important this is to you, given that you were the one who asked to start this process which lead us to your first audition for the school.  Yep, they loved you, one of ten picked out of a group of over 100 kids.  They looked at you, at me, at Daddy, talked to us, and said yes, you're in (because along with a talented kid, they want smart, savvy parents who aren't desperate).

So that's the decision, headshots and a bit of training under all of our belts, whether we take the catapult (and spend a big chunk of money) or the slow road.

The kind folks at the school see your big talent as acting - being cute, precocious, of nationalities so mixed your skin color is a golden tawny brown.  You are also at a huge advantage, pun intended, because you are 8, but in the petite frame of a girl two years younger.

When Daddy and I started this adventure, inspired and motivated by you, we thought local.  A lot of catalog and photo work happens in our lovely bay area, and requires no travel to the south end of our State.  But TV?  Film?  Eh gads, how many airplanes would we board to audition?  How does that impact our quality of life?  How much does that cut into our precious idle time where we get to stay in PJ's all day because we can?

So I asked you this morning, en route to school, another variation on my same theme of "how important is this to you, love?" ... this time it was phrased "Of taking pictures or doing commercials, how often would you want this to happen?  How many times a week or a month?"

"Once a week," you replied.

So I take this bit of info, file it along with the commercial you practiced this morning, just because, along with the 5 all-day classes on Sundays that you never once complained about, never once resisted getting up and driving 45 minutes to the east bay, to your enthusiasm when you announced your slate (or whatever you do with your slate, acting isn't a language I speak!), and stood on your mark, and charmed the heck out of three judges.

And I think, oh man, I just don't want Hollywood to suck the life out of you.  I know it's my job, and Daddy's job to keep your feet on the ground, to remind you of what is essentially Ava, the core of abundance and goodness and 8-year-old-ness.  To make sure that school comes first, and this is just an after school activity, not a full time career.

So today, I've asked the Universe to make the answer abundantly clear - catapult or  saunter? 

And I hope, whatever the decision, you understand it in a dozen years when you ask.

Love,
Always,
Mommy