Lunch Time
Here's our little dear at lunch, in a quiet moment with "buns on the ground!" (teacher's precise words)
I observe that Madeleine is no longer the bossy-boots of two years ago. She interacts wonderfully with adults showing an appropriate amount of deference when called for. In new situations, she puts her hands together and slyly looks for direction or support - I saw this last week, for instance, when I left her with artist Sabi at her studio. She's the same in the classroom and when I am around (at least) her hand shoots up before her mouth blasts off. I do not mean to suggest that Madeleine has somehow become a push-over or engaged in girly-things or even become a stickler for manners. She is still a tom boy and loves climbing trees, rarely uses silver-ware (unless Sonnet commands so) and enjoys scrapes on both knees. Yet her transition to kid-hood, from child, occurs before us and I tell her "good job!" as often as I can. I also ask her if she will remember me when she is a teenager? and she rolls her eyes: "Of course I will dad" she chides me. But in many ways she is already gone.
Here is a letter from Stanford's Special Counselor to the President for Campus Relations:
"
Dear Faculty friends,
"
