Dear Little: Imagination

You made a Lego thing.

It was a coffee house, but not any coffee house. This coffee house is in the middle of the woods so hikers could enjoy caffeine.

It’s also owned by two dogs.

And despite being in the middle of the woods, this coffee shop has a drive through.

I would 100% go to this place. Also, this proves that you are 100% my kid.



Dear Little: Capoeira

Hey, Kiddo!

A few weeks ago you went to a class with our neighborhood friends. You were invited to jump in, which after a bit of hesitation, you did.

The next week, you said you wanted to go back. We did. Then you said you wanted to go back yet again so you could kick, dance, play tag with your friends and play music.

Given that music had been a complex issue at school, we said, “Sure!” We paid for a month of Capoeira classes. You even got a little outfit, learned how to tie the belt rope so you’re pants don’t fall down, and get to mix acrobatics, dance, music and martial arts a few times a week.

All I can think of, no matter how hard I try not to, is the episode of Bob’s Burgers when Capoeira is called, “sexy dance fighting”.

You are doing a new thing, having a blast, playing musical instruments, and always want to go back. For that, I’m thrilled.

I’m also tickled because I got to look through funny gifs from Bob’s Burgers, so thanks, Kiddo.



Dear Little: Bomb Doggie!


Kiddo, this is so cool.

You got to handle a working bomb detection dog tonight.

We learned that Bomb detection dogs are trained (currently – the number is rising) on 19,000 odors. I don’t know 19,000 words let alone be able to identify that number of smells. 

We also watched a lot of explosion videos, including this explosive spin on the holiday spirit:

I didn’t know these dogs aren’t just proactive (sweeps before the Superbowl, airport luggage searches or when there is a weird package left at the Somerville Train Station), but also are critical in helping after an explosion with evidence collection. For instance, bomb detection dogs went in after the Boston Marathon bombing to help piece together what happened, what had explosive material on it, what didn’t, etc.

These dogs are amazing, and I’m so thankful that Sgt. Viera and Figaro are out there keeping us safe…

ace fig pose

…and that you trusted her enough to do something you’d normally find scary: Talk to and engage with a complete stranger. You later said, “She was a police officer, so I felt safe, and I really wanted to work with Figaro. Those two things helped. Plus you and Nina were right there. I felt brave.”

This is a huge victory, and I’m so happy.  But, something tells me that for you, like me, with Dog, all things are possible.

ace and figaro



A Series Of Photos


This is a collection of photos of your summer so far because we’ve been busy and I want you to see some of what you’ve done.

You “met” Andre the Seal with your cousin, Liberty, and decided he was dead that you both had to be devastated by his passing over 40 years ago in Rockport Harbor:

Helping your little friend, Mae, cross the street, talking to her the whole way to our place. Then you gave her all your old Dupolo Legos. I’m proud that you became a good “big friend” to a tiny human.

You went to the DeCordova statue museum and wanted to dance just like this statue. So you did:

And, went to BodyWorlds. This image is of the blood vessels surrounding a human head, the bones, fascia, skin, muscles, ligaments, and tendons are all gone. You were OBSESSED with this piece. Though, given the photos so far, this is the only hoodie you are evidently going to wear this summer:

We set up the hammock, and you read an old favorite:

You hung out in your favorite exhibit at the Museum of Science after being totally overwhelmed by kids groups:

Helped in your first presentation at the MSPCA (kids and dogs!)  This is you and Aron, the training coordinator’s son who helped you get over your nervousness in front of people. When you were scared and held on to my leg while I was trying to talk to a room of people, he came over, sat with you, and you both just hung out, independently, together.

That is, until the presentation was over and you both became legitimately feral. I’m ok with this. You guys were awesome.

Read “Rebel Girls” and researched Helen Keller and Sonita Alizadeh (If you don’t remember either, look them up now.) We spent the afternoon looking up sign language interpreters, including the woman who created a more realistic signing experience for deaf people at concerts like Snoop Dogg, Red Hot Chili Peppers…never mind, these are super outdated. Rock and rap concerts.

The other was about child marriage in Afghanistan. Yous said, “Her rap is sad. I don’t’ understand her words, but she’s sad. I know there are girls who can’t use their voice. I want to do something to help them.”

Attagirl. Just remember you can always use your voice to say something is wrong – but never help AT someone. Always help WITH someone of that community explaining to you what you can do to be a good ally.

We also got ice cream at Gracie’s in Union Square (Somerville).

We are only halfway through your summer, but I wanted to put some things here for you to hopefully recall later 🙂


Love, Mama

Dear Little: Packing


Dear Little,

We are going to Maine for a two-night stay, just you and me.

You packed as if we were leaving 19th century England on a 10-month journey by boat.

Dog named Captain sitting next to a LOT of luggage.

Captain Love is 45 pounds. That is the pile of luggage, toys, books, etc. that an only child is accustomed to taking for any length stay.

We couldn’t finish a typical length Marvel movie in the time it would take us to get there, approximately 3-and-a-half hours. You’d make a great Scout, always prepared.

Though, always prepared for Pokemon battle, glittering things, impromptu doll-dress up, ballet-lesson, reading, more reading, and a re-enactment of the dinosaurs last day on Earth.

Less prepared for changing underwear (had to sneak more into the bag) and Maine weather in June (needed a hoodie, a tank top and pants). Otherwise, TOTALLY prepared.



Dear Little: Sick Day


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It’s your last week of first grade. Thursday is a half day.

So, naturally, you fall ill on Monday morning with a fever (strep negative, thanks Dr. Lock, and thanks to Dad for teaching me to go to the doctor when your kid is sick…)

You threw up in your bed last night. No, this post isn’t to document your illness, but to highlight how miserable you were.

This morning, your fever was even higher, which is awful. You were able to squeak out how your throat felt like someone cut it into a million pieces and left it in your neck. That was sufficiently descriptive.

So, we decided you’d blow a whistle if you needed me while I worked from home today. Since we didn’t have a whistle, but your daddy is a musician, we improvised.

Image result for ocarina

You decided to have pre-written notes, like:





Can I Watch TV?

Can I Play A Video Game?

With your marker, you wrote one more thing to communicate without your voice working.

sick day

This almost makes up for finding out you have been making out with a boy in your class behind the playground structures at recess.

Lick On The Tongue


So, sorry in advance Kiddo, but I OBVIOUSLY had to tell Auntie Lindz, who, even after explaining it’s a Pokemon “Lickytongue” thing, …

Image result for lickitongue pokemon


Was, totally all about #HelpingNotHelping…

First Kiss, Probably.

I think it counts.

I love you, too, kiddo.

Sorry to Future You when you see this and realize I put this on the Internet. And, sorry to your friend, who will absolutely be sick during the first week of summer vacation.

Get better.


Dear Little: Spelling



Dear Little:

I’m just putting this here, so I can look back and chuckle in a decade.

You, writing a letter to your friend Ivy: “Mom? How to do you spell E?”

Me: “E?”

You: “Yes. How do you spell E?”

Me: “Um…E.”

You: “How do you spell chother?”

Me: ….

You: “You know? Like, chother?”

Me: “I’m not sure. Can you use it in a sentence?”

You: “Yes. Here is what I would like to write – Dear Ivy, I can’t wait to see e chother again.”

Me: “OH! Each, other.”

You: “No, Mom. E Chother. I just need to know how to spell it.”



Dear Little: Bone Rat


Dear Little,

Without commentary, here you are nuzzling into bed with Puppy and The Death of Rats.

Ahem. MY Death of Rats toy. Complete with a black hood, a scythe, and all the things an embodiment of death would need to escort a soul to wherever souls go after they pass on.

(Because I’m an adult and adults can have toys, too).

(And when you read this as an adult, we’ll have a conversation about “phrasing,” no doubt.)