Chapter 68: How's Our Girl?

September

Amelia handed Gwen to Owen as the medical assistant showed the family to a room. Responding to Amelia's comment about his appearance, Owen chuckled at his wife's observation and affirmed, "Bedraggled is probably the most fitting word. They are all alive and at school. Let's just say getting out of the house was quite an adventure."

Amelia laughed softly and suggested, "Take a deep breath and join us. We've had a very calm and pleasant morning. No fussing, no crying, and lots of smiles."

Kissing Gwen's hands, then arms, then cheeks and head, Owen played with his daughter as they walked to the exam room. Amelia wheeled the stroller with Ella in it and sat down in the exam room. "First stop, ultrasound then urologist," Amelia declared. Amelia stood up and began prepping Gwen for the procedure, dressing her in a baby-sized hospital gown. Every time Gwen wore one, Owen and Amelia ooohhed and ahhhed at its tiny size.

The morning proceeded along without challenges. Seeing one specialist after another and undergoing all the tests, Gwen made it through the morning still smiling. When they met with the PT/OT team and with the pediatrician, everyone noted that except for activities related to her leg, Gwen was meeting all of her baby milestones and fit right in with other babies her age.

Standing, pulling up to stand, and crawling were actions Gwen had not yet mastered. Her interest in attempting those tasks varied depending upon what Ella was doing. If Ella was sitting next to her sister and playing, Gwen had no need to try to crawl or stand. However, when Ella would crawl away, Gwen would become quite upset. She would bellow to her sister in gibberish and Ella would respond much the same way then keep moving. When Gwen became especially eager to join her moving sister, she would "Gwen-crawl" with her arms and one leg in a regular crawling position while dragging the other leg as she moved. Brief standing occurred only if someone else stood her up, stabilized her balance, and slowly let go.

While everyone was hoping for a bit more progress, the specialists assured Owen and Amelia that Gwen was on the right track. In the coming months, continued emphasis would be placed on strengthening her upper leg and helping her learn to trust the numbness of her lower leg. As far as the experts were concerned, Gwen would be fine as long as she began fully crawling by 15-18 months and walking by 24 months.

The team scheduled the blood draws and MRI last and after the crawling and standing challenges so that Gwen would be sleeping by the time, she underwent those procedures. With the baby asleep, less sedation would be necessary for the MRI and the experience would be less traumatic.

At 2 p.m., Owen and Amelia met with the entire team to summarize the day. The doctors and staff were positive and hopeful. Together, the parents and medical team put together a plan for the next few months and celebrated that Gwen's health remained stable and hopeful

The School Day

Bronwyn really thought she would enjoy Kindergarten. According to her brothers, who had attended Kinder in Canada, the first year of school was like playtime with a schedule. Eager to play with kids her age, Bronwyn dreamed of an ideal experience.

Mrs. Nice and Pretty Teacher, otherwise known as Mrs. Donaldson to those who could remember her name, began the morning with songs the children already knew as she asked the kids to come sit in the circle just after the bell rang. She encouraged the children to simply sit down and not worry about which spot in the circle they chose. Praising those who came over and immediately sat down, the teacher prompted a couple children to return to where they had been and to try walking to the circle instead of running. Bronwyn, not much of a runner but most definitely a dancer and skipper, did not run to the circle. She twirled to the circle after an initial skip or two. Then she smiled broadly as she sat in the circle near Mrs. Nice and Pretty.

The teacher, mistaking Bronwyn's smile for attitude, excused herself from the rest of the class for a moment while she asked Bronwyn to join her in the back of the room. The teaching assistant quickly took the teacher's place and took over leading The Itsy Bitsy Spider. As Bronwyn walked with her teacher, she was fairly certain her teacher wanted to praise her creativity in dancing to circle. I bet the teacher wants to tell me in secret that my dancing is pretty. Maybe I'll be her favorite kid, Bronwyn thought to herself.

Kneeling down to Bronwyn's level, the teacher looked sternly into Bronwyn's eyes. "Miss Hunt, we do not dance or skip in our classroom. Your job is to follow the rules, not be proud about breaking them, do you understand?" Bronwyn was so shattered by Mrs. Nice and Pretty Teacher's harsh admonishment that her bottom lip began to quiver and tears pooled in her eyes. Mrs. Nice and Pretty looked seriously at Bronwyn and suggested, "If you need a moment to calm down, you may sit in the hallway outside the door. When you are ready to walk and to not cry, come back in and join us in the circle."

The teacher walked Bronwyn over to the door and opened it for her, pointing to where she could sit. Not even 10 minutes into the school day, Bronwyn was beginning to decide that Kindergarten was simply not for her. She sat by the door, hugging her bent knees, whimpering. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor as she refused to let herself fully cry in public.

About fifteen feet away in a hallway perpendicular to the one in which Bronwyn sat, Oliver's class walked toward the library in a straight and quiet line. "Hey, Oliver," one of Ollie's friends whispered, "isn't that your little sister?"

Oliver looked down the hallway and shrugged, "Nope." He had meant it when he told Bronwyn he wasn't going to admit she was his sister.

A couple minutes later, Finley walked by. His teacher had entrusted him to deliver some paperwork to the office, but he stopped when he saw his sister both in trouble and devastated. He approached her with gentle concern, knelt down, and lovingly placed his hand on her arm, "Bronwyn, what happened?"

"My teacher hates, hates, hates me," Bronwyn whined quietly.

"Mrs. Donaldson is one of the nicest teachers here," Finley explained. "Why do you think she hates you?"

Bronwyn couldn't contain herself any longer and tears began to fall down her cheeks. If Mrs. Nice and Pretty Teacher was one of the nicest teachers at the school, then school was going to be a miserable and nightmarish experience for years. As far as Bronwyn was concerned, life as she'd known it was over and now her life consisted of mean adults and many rules. Bronwyn described, "I skipped and danced to circle and she said I brokeded the rules and was prided of it."

"Proud of it?" Finley clarified.

"Yeah, that," Bronwyn responded. "I'm pus-posed to sit out here until I'm not crying and until I can follow rules." Bronwyn flung herself into Finley's arms and began sobbing as she declared, "I hate school."

Finley, realizing there were no witnesses watching him be kind to his little sister, hugged her and patted her back. "Bronwyn, you'll be ok. It's a big deal at school to follow the rules, but you'll learn them. If you get in trouble for something you think is ok to do, just say you are sorry and didn't understand that rule. Most teachers will be nice the first time you try that." Finley released his sister from their hug and, in a fatherly manner, wiped the tears off her face as he advised, "Now, Bronwyn, take a big deep breath and go back in there. Walk slowly and sit down and don't talk to any of the kids when you're sitting in circle, ok?"

Bronwyn, her lip still jutted out, nodded as she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. Finley chuckled and handed her a Kleenex from his pocket, advising, "The teachers here really flip out if they see you do that. They like to teach manners here. Now are you going to be ok?"

"Mr. Hunt? Can I help you with something?" the principal, Mrs. Tonnington, stated as she folded her arms and looked down at Bronwyn and Finley.

Finley nervously stood up and apologized, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I was delivering this to your office, and I saw my little sister. She was upset and I was worried about her." Finley held out the paperwork from his teacher as he quickly glanced at Bronwyn. Bronwyn was enthralled by Finley getting in trouble but felt bad because he'd been helping her.

"I see," the principal declared. "While I appreciate your care for your younger sister, Mr. Hunt, I believe you know that speaking to someone who has been asked to sit in the hallway is not allowed."

"Yes, Ma'am," Finley uttered.

"Alright then. Please go back to class, Mr. Hunt. I'll help your sister return to her classroom," the principal remarked. Mrs. Tonnington then knelt down and grinned slightly at Bronwyn. In a kinder voice than she'd used with Finley, she said flatly, "To be in the hallway already…you must not be having a good morning." The principal held out her hand for Bronwyn to shake and they introduced themselves to one another.

"I'm really not a bad kid, I just didn't know dancing wasn't ok," Bronwyn explained as if the principal already knew the whole story.

"I see," Mrs. Tonnington replied gently with a smile. "Do you think you're ready to return to class and try again? The rest of your day will be better. I know it will." Between the darling red hair and big blue eyes, this little one had softened even the harsh and intimidating Mrs. Tonnington. Bronwyn nodded and walked back into her classroom determined to not get in trouble at school ever again. Unfortunately, much of the rest of Bronwyn's day involved being redirected and reminded of the rules.

After School

Owen, Amelia, and the twins pulled up five minutes after the final bell, worried they'd be the last parents in line. Luckily, they weren't. Pick up was a well-ordered affair at the school. The younger children were each given a number and the family's car displayed the same number on their dashboard. Even though Bronwyn saw her car pull up, she had to wait until it was at a certain spot and her number had been called. This school, with all its rules and systems, was not to Bronwyn's liking. She wasn't so sure this Kindergarten deal was for her.

The older children, 3rd to 8th grade, could approach their parent's car when they spotted it. Oliver was beside himself with pride that he could now find his own way to the car and was the first to arrive at it. He ran up at full speed and bumped into the door on purpose, then he pulled the door open with gusto and hopped in the last row of seats.

Rather than sharing news about his day, his amazing teacher, and the funny interactions he'd had with his friends, Oliver immediately began providing a non-stop news report about the latest St. Francis gossip and goings on. After all, Mom and Dad would want to know that his siblings were the subject of some of the best gossip of the day, he reasoned to himself.

"Oooooooooohhhh, Dad, Mom," Oliver began with gumption, "You are not going to believe what happened today!" Oliver's news about Finley was juicy. Everyone in the school knew that news, and Oliver couldn't wait to share it with his parents.

"Yeah?" Owen smiled as he peered back to Oliver. "Great first day of 3rd grade, huh?"

"Well, yeah, but that is not what I'm talking about," Oliver explained as he brushed his hand in the air to dismiss any reports about his own day. "Bronwyn got in trouble twice and Finley kissed a girl during recess."

Before turning around to face Oliver, Owen took a deep breath and made sure that his doctor "you just told me something shocking but I'm going to remain non-judgemental" face was plastered on tightly. Amelia grinned and whispered, "Your turn. This one's all yours." Turning toward Oliver, Owen simply responded, "Really? How do you know all the news?"

Oliver explained seeing Bronwyn in the hallway and pretending that she wasn't his sister because it was so embarrassing to see her in trouble while he was walking with his friends. "And the Finley- Naomi Kiss," as Oliver named the first Watergate scandal of the school year, "well, everyone heard about that. It's all over the school."

Just as Oliver concluded his sentence, Finley opened the door and plopped into the car quietly. He sat down between the babies and buckled his seat belt without saying a word. Then, he bent down to begin shuffling through his backpack.

"Hey, Finley, how was your day?" Owen asked with enthusiasm.

"Here," Finley heaved a disgusted sigh as he handed Owen a sealed envelope. "You or Mom need to sign it and then I can bring it back tomorrow."

Owen pulled the car up further in the carpool line. He was three spots away from the designated pick up spot and he could see Bronwyn jumping out of her skin attempting to wait patiently. Seeing her buoyant joy and enthusiasm made any and all stress in his life melt away. Grasping the envelope, Owen questioned, "Ok. What is it?"

"I bet it's a detention for kissing Naomi!" Oliver announced with glee from the very back of the Buick.

Finley quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and was about to reach back to pummel his brother when Owen grabbed Finley's dress shirt with his right hand and pulled him back to his seat. "Sit down, Finley," Owen groaned. "Now what's in the envelope?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now, Dad," Finley mumbled.

x"Ok," Owen shrugged as he pulled up closer to the designated spot. "We'll talk at home, ok? Just you, Mom and me."

"Ooooohhhh, Finley. You gonna tell Mom and Dad all about kissing your girlfriend?" Oliver teased.

"Dad, can you shut him up? Because if you don't, I will," Finley announced with a mixture of hatred and embarrassment.

Owen turned back toward Oliver and declared, "That stops now, Oliver, got it?"

"Yeah," Oliver moaned with resignation as Bronwyn skipped to the car and a teacher's aide assisted her in buckling into her car seat. The aide, who already knew the Hunts, greeted them all with a kindergarten-friendly smile and tone.

The Principal walked up to Amelia's window. "Hello, Mrs. Tonnington," Amelia acknowledged.

"Dr. Shepherd-Hunt, could you or Dr. Hunt please give me a call before the end of the day today?" the Principal requested quietly. Amelia nodded and agreed to call within the hour.

After Owen and Amelia exchanged shrugs, Owen turned and exclaimed, "Bronwyn! How was your day, sweetie?! Did you like school?"

"Ummm…actually, no. Too many rules, all the growned ups are serious and mean, and I don't get to talk enough. Aaaannnnndddd one kid made fun of my hair," Bronwyn reported.

"Because you're a ginger!" Oliver bellowed, forgetting his father's hair color.

"What's wrong with that, Oliver?" Owen asked with a grin and a glance.

"Oh. Umm…nothing," Oliver quickly rescinded his slur.

"I'm sorry it was a rough day, Bron. Tomorrow will be better," Amelia assured her.

"Well, Mommy…Daddy… see…that's the thing. I'm not going back," Bronwyn stated in an even, matter-of-fact way. "Oh, and Daddy, what is French kissing?"

"French kissing," Owen repeated, stunned to hear the phrase come out of his 4-year-old's mouth.

"Yeah. One of my new friends has a sister in Finley's class and her sister told my friend that Finley got in trouble for French kissing and making out. What is that?" Bronwyn asked with honest curiosity.

Finley buried his face in his hands then looked directly out the side window. Owen, stunned and unsure what to say, didn't respond. Finley manned up and explained, "Bron, you know how Mom and Dad sometimes kiss over and over again?"

"Uh huh," Bronwyn said. "Growned up kissing with hugging."

"That's making out," Finley stated without emotion. "And I wasn't making out."

"Were you French kissing?" Bronwyn inquired with innocent curiosity.

"Yeah," Finley admitted.

"Well, what is that?" Bronwyn wondered aloud.

"Ummmm… it's more than a quick little kiss but not making out," Finley attempted to explain vaguely.

"Nuh uh," Oliver interjected. "Bron, it's when two people kiss and they touch their tongues." In Oliver's imagination, the tongue touching was as quick as a peck on the cheek and was a completely disgusting activity.

Bronwyn gasped with extravagant drama and wondered aloud with cavernous curiosity, "Was it fun, Fin?"

Owen, trying to keep a straight face and to not react, wanted to melt into the driver's seat and disappear. Amelia attempted to refrain from laughing as she hid her mouth in his hand and gazed out the window.

Finley laughed for the first time in a long time and chuckled, "Well, yeah. It was."

No longer able to contain himself, Oliver yelled out from the back seat, "Finley and Naomi, sitting in a tree, K-I-S…"

"Oliver!" Owen and Finley yelled simultaneously.

"But Bronwyn is talking about it," Oliver whined.

Owen explained, "She's asking honest questions, Oliver. You're teasing."

"So…ummmm…Daddy…or maybe Finley…or I dunno, Daddy? Is 7th graders allowed to French kiss and make out or just growned ups?" Bronwyn investigated. "Is Finley in trouble?"

"Yeah, Dad," Oliver added as Finley reluctantly looked at Owen with anticipation.

Finley leaned his ear toward the front seat, eager to hear his dad's response. Amelia, being absolutely no help whatsoever, continued to attempt to stifle her laughter.

Owen was thoughtful about his response, eventually claiming, "That is a really great question that is difficult for me to answer while I'm driving."

Amelia whipped her head toward Owen, leaned over, and whispered in his ear, "Nnnniiiiiiicccccceee save, pal." Owen smiled and glanced over at her as he offered a wink.