I'm Still Alive: An Update of Sorts

Remember that one time when I wrote one blog post approximately 3 months ago and then didn't even open my blog again for the rest of the summer or even one month into the school year? Yeah, that happened. I don't know that it was intentional, I would like to write more, but I've just felt kind of eh about it. I've kind of felt that way about everything for basically the whole month of August.

August has been one long and crappy month and I will be happy to bid it farewell at the end of the day. Some things are changing that I would prefer to stay the same,  and some things I wish would change, but essentially have no control over. I don't want to go outside because its hot and crappy. My poor dog is stuck out there most of the time because her insane amount of hair bothers Liam. I was stuck outside for awhile on Friday because my van wouldn't start after I picked my kids up from school.  I basically had no use of my kitchen sink for like a month and had to wash dishes in mixing bowls because I couldn't run water or use my dishwasher. I would prefer just to eat cookies for every meal but then I feel bleh afterwards, so I try to choose salad or what not instead. Being an adult is just basically the most overrated activity in the world.

In other news, despite my crappy outlook on life for the entire month of August (and probably a big chunk of June and July also), life has continued to go on. Liam is already 9 months old insert sad face here and he is inchworm crawling all over the place and trying to pull himself up to stand everywhere. He has zero teeth, he is working it with that gummy smile. This dude took his sweet time learning how to sit up without tipping over, but now he is sitting in all of the places. He is like the king of the shopping cart, sitting up front and trying to chew on it with all of its germs. Also, he's super chunky and only 3 ounces shy of weighing 20 pounds. Pretty sure all of that weight is in his thighs.

Another occurence in my summer blogging hiatus: Witten turned 3. My little guy isn't so little anymore. All traces of toddlerhood are gone. No chubby cheeks, no knuckle dimples. His arms and legs are long and skinny, and his opinions are iron clad and never changing. He's the epitome of stubborn, and just when I think I can't argue with him for another second, he's as sweet as can be. The last half hour of his day is when he reserves all of his affection. He gives me all of his smiles, kisses, and hugs, to compensate for any brattiness that may have taken place over the course of the day.

Ava, my other forgotten middle child, has ventured into first grade with maximum apprehension. She turned 6 in the middle of August, and if you think it was without tears you have not met Ava. She cried at her birthday party, because that's how she rolls, but presents made it better. Her attitude towards first grade is far less optimistic than kindergarten, and she is only now, one month into the school year, agreeing to join her class on the rug for story time. I know eventually she will come out of her shell and reveal her sassy personality to her teacher, but it will be a slow process. Either way, my fancy lady continues to be equal parts sweet and spunky, with a proud determination to be as girly as possible. She is all dresses and skirts, all the time, and only wears her one pair of shorts if I make her on days that she has P.E. She is full-time fancy, and its a hard job.

Alana, not to be forgotten, is proudly embracing third grade and her role as eternal teacher's pet. She got glasses over the summer (she is just far-sided and will probably outgrow it) and she got braces in February, so she is a proud nerd. She is eager to please, loves to make new friends, and continues to sing much louder than the car radio. She is the friendliest girl, she always has been. I know I will never have to worry about her not having anyone to talk to, because this girl is one chatty lady. I can't believe she will be 9 in a month, she's halfway to adulthood. Good thing she still plays with Barbies, I couldn't handle it if my first baby decided she was a grown up already.

When I look back through these pictures of my wild hooligans, I don't feel as bad about the crappy month of August. I have people who fix my stupid plumbing and people who give me and my 4 kids a ride home when my van won't start and people to share my cookies with. I have a very squishy little guy who just woke up and is complaining that I am typing instead of holding him, and a 3 year old who keeps making me change the channel after he has watched no more than 5 minutes of a TV show. So I guess I'll go hold my baby and change the channel, those things aren't going to do themselves. I'll be back next month, because my poor neglected blog deserves slightly more attention.

The Space-Time Paradox of Parenthood

Tomorrow is Alana's last day of first grade. I don't know how this has happened. She just started yesterday. Today she got, among other things, a perfect attendance award and the Ben's Bell award for kindness. I knew the perfect attendance award was coming, because clearly I'm the one who brushed her hair and drove her to school every single day this year. But the other one was a surprise, and as I listened to the teacher stand up and say nice things about my lady I got a little happy and sad and averted my eyes to avoid public tears. I blame my hormones.

The crazy thing about Alana being so big and grown up, and I'm not alone on this one, is that I'm fairly sure she just started kindergarten. Scratch that, she was just born yesterday. She should still be an infant. And the sad fact about that is, I can't even remember what it was like when she was a baby. That is the cruel reality of parenthood. Its fast, and its slow. You want to remember every little thing, but you will forget most of the things. I want to remember how it felt when Alana slept on my chest, but all I can clearly recall is the funny things that she writes on her homework everyday and her incessant games of "school" where she bosses Ava around and calls everyone "classmates". Screw you time.

Also, I'm angry at time for this.

My Ava graduated preschool last week. In two months she will start kindergarten. I will probably cry. Because of hormones....

I'm genuinely confused as to how she is old enough to be in kindergarten. I curse her August birthday that means she is old enough to start school by two weeks. If I had her in September instead I would get to keep her here with me for another year. Its not really fair. Next year when school starts I will have a kindergartener AND a second grader. They are old, so am I. Life is not fair.

I don't like beginnings, and I don't like endings. I'm more of a somewhere in the middle kind of person. I hate when school ends, because the year flew by. And then I hate when the next year begins, because they are closer to being grown ups and I know eventually that year will end and I will be sad again. Its weird to be sad that the school year is over, and until I had kids I never felt this way. I get attached to their teachers, because they take such good care of my kids, and then I get sad because they have to say goodbye and move on to new teachers who I will also get attached to. Its all confusing to me, I don't even get it.

The most confusing part of parenthood is how it seems to both take forever and fly by. One bad day with fighting kids and crying and too much whining can seem like an eternity, but then you wake up and a year has gone by. Yesterday I woke up with Alana, made her breakfast and a lunch, brushed her hair and sent her to her first day of first grade. Tomorrow I will send her to her last. And probably cry, because its the end. I don't even know anymore. And then when I wake up the next day, I will brush the hair of both of my girls, feed them breakfast and pack their lunches, and send them to kindergarten and second grade. Then I will cry, let's blame hormones for that one. And motherhood, because it has made me into a giant crybaby who doesn't understand the passing of time.

The First Grade Blues

Alana started first grade on Thursday. Hugest miracle of the week: I didn't cry. Another huge miracle: neither did she, not until the second day of school anyway. 

I feel unprepared for her to be a first grader. First of all, with the school schedule we are on summer is only 2 short months. And secondly, first grade seems so grown up compared to kindergarten. She already knows how to read and write and stuff, so now school is more about her learning than just having fun. The first graders are all lumped together with the older grades (up to 4th) which seems to be a big jump from having their own playground in kindergarten. Now they're just elementary school kids, not cute little kindergarteners. First grade is old.

Despite my mixed feelings about school starting, we tried to keep it upbeat so Alana would be excited. She had a brand new outfit to wear, a new Sofia the First lunchbox, and a whole summer's worth of socializing to catch up on. She was hyped. I was happy for her, but anxious that she would cry. When given the choice between a kid who happily leaves you and doesn't look back or a kid that cries and begs you to stay and says they don't want to go to school, ALWAYS pick the first one. Its easier and doesn't hurt quite as much.

The first day she was so excited about seeing all of her friends that she kept yelling hello to people that were like 50 yards away. She's nothing if not friendly. Then she lined up with her classmates, some she already knew and loved from last year and some new ones whose names she already knows after two days of school, and walked off into first grade. Just like that. I held strong, no buckets of tears like last year, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to cry. I cried on the last day of school here people, so its not like there's no precedent. 

My girl is so grown up.

When I think about how quickly kindergarten went by it makes me sad. First grade is going to pass just as quickly. Read also: WHY MUST CHILDREN GROW UP SO FAST??? 

The only bummer that Alana sees about starting first grade is that most of her best friends have different teachers this year. In the big picture, where school is supposed to be about learning and crap, this shouldn't matter. You don't need your BFF in your class to be a Reader Leader. In Alana's world though, this is a travesty. She actually cried tonight because her friends have different teachers. She is friends with everyone, and she'll adjust, but for now she is sad even though she sees her friends at lunch and recess and I know their moms so she has playdates with them. 

The hardest part when your kids go to school is just being away from them. It sucks. I'd rather have her here with me, driving me crazy and fighting with Ava and watching Good Luck Charlie everyday, but that won't help her learn to read and make friends and grow up. That's the tricky part. Parenting takes some letting go. And I hate letting go. Its totally overrated.

I had my girl home with me 24/7 for over 5 years, then one day last year I had to send her off for 7 hours a day. Just like that, here you go world, here's my baby. Teach her stuff, then send her back to me in good condition please. Then before I knew it, last year was over. I got her back for the whole summer, 8 weeks. That wasn't long enough, I'd like to request a summer extension. A year should be okay, I'll get back to you. First grade isn't necessary right? I'll just keep her here with me and when we get to second grade we'll re-evaluate things.

 Alana loves learning, but just like me she hates leaving. She wants to make friends, she is a great student and will do everything her teacher asks of her and more. The only catch is that she wishes I was there watching her, learning with her. She doesn't want to have to choose between me and school, it makes her sad to leave me. I know she'll do great though, she just has to remember how much she loves school and I just have to hand her over to her teacher every morning and hope she forgets how much she misses me.

First grade will go quickly I'm sure, and Alana will do just as well as last year. As for me, I'm going to spend at least a part of every day sitting and missing my girl, counting the minutes and hours till its time to pick her up, and waiting for the weekend. Be kind to my girl first grade, and she'll be kind to you.