Wednesday, November 06, 2013

She (Updated)

I know I don't write here as much as I used to. As much as I should. But I sure am happy that there are years of posts to look back upon, remember and share again.  

Like this one.

Today, SHE is ten years old. TEN YEARS OLD. She's replaced the whistling with playing her recorder. "Recorder Karate" her music teacher calls it.  I wonder if I'll ever miss that sound?

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After many, many years of trying she had finally learned how to whistle properly.

I can't even type the word properly without smiling because really, is there a proper way to whistle? I suppose so. And I would suppose the notes escaping my daughters pursed lips don't resemble anything even remotely close to proper whistling - but that matters not.

When she began this newly acquired trick a few months ago, she was so so proud.

"Check it out mom, I'm whistling!" She would shout while running past me in the kitchen. Up until then, all whistling was done by inhalation only, so I suppose the magic of finally doing it while exhaling was quite exhilarating for her.

A few hours later, still whistling.

The next day, still whistling.

A week later, still whistling.

My husband and I exchanged many a glance, widening our eyes and chuckling just a teeny tiny bit (quietly so nobody could hear us) and we wondered if it would ever stop.

Of course, there was no whistling allowed at the dinner table.

And no whistling past bedtime.

No whistling in school and no whistling during homework.

But other than that, the air in our home (and outside of it for that matter) was filled with the sounds of a whistling 2nd grader. Whistling while she played with her paper dolls. Whistling while she brushed her teeth (she's a talented one, that she is). Whistling while drawing. Whistling while Wii-ing (that's a verb, right). Whistling. Whistling. Whistling.

So much so that I became rather immune to it.

And then I didn't realize that the whistling had actually become a little bit less, until it did.

A few hours ago she grabbed a brightly colored glass from the dishwasher as her older brother was emptying it. She held it up in front of her left eye and peered at me through it's purple-hued bottom, grinning. I thought she was going to laugh. Instead, she whistled.

And I remembered that I kind of missed that sound.




Whistling, in the car




3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well, shoot! I love whistling!

And I do miss these blogs.. much better than the facebook shorties...

xxxooomom

Tony M said...

I love your blog Carrie:) I can't believe how big Katie's getting. I have whistlers in my house as well.

Liz said...

I remember the first time this one was posted. And I miss your posts! :)