First Grade is a Long Time

Dear Tommy,
 
Now you are a first grader!  I still can't really believe it.  As I type, my eyes fill up a bit with tears of pride at how wonderfully you have embraced your first two days of full-day school.  You just aren't afraid!  You are happy and enthusiastic and brave.  I am so proud of you, Tommy.  I am so eager for you to learn and experience new and amazing things in the world.
 
But. 
 
I have to admit, it's a little harder than I predicted, kiddo!  The school day is long for you and it's long for me.  The hours seem different with my heart walking around at your elementary school.  I'm wondering what you're experiencing and whether you've eaten your lunch. 
 
It's hard to be a Mom and to feel such mixed emotions.  Frustration when kids don't obey, anger when kids are sassy, pride when kids are sweet, joy when kids are brave, etc.  Excited as kids embark on a new challenge.  Scared about how it will go and who they will meet and whether it will be fine.  Fear that somehow our relationship will change forever.  This week is a bit of a roller coaster in that regard.
 
Daddy bought you Fruit Loops and a bike lock on the night before school.  Fruit Loops because who can say no to the kid who requests Fruit Loops for breakfast on his first morning of school?  A bike lock so you could put all your focus into the mastery of the four digit combination.  As if you don't have anything else on your plate this week.
 
So, every day, you've been biking ahead, forging your way up the sidewalks and across the crosswalk and to the bike rack.  Sliding your fingers through its metal bars.  Twisting the lock back into position and running...yes, running...into the building with a quick thumbs-up to me as you head through the door. 
 
Geez, take it easy on me and at least pretend you're gonna miss me, Tom. ;)
 
I love you.
 
Mom
 
 

Today

Under a marshmallow puff of feather comforter, the bed is still made so as not to make things more difficult. I am curled up, still in my swimsuit after a long morning of fun. Tommy is beside me, and I hear him reading quietly to himself. This is what I dreamed about, I think. My handsome son with sun-kissed golden hair, and a pile of books between us. It has been a perfect day.
The kids woke up early and are still on probation from tv. It was just cereal for breakfast and then a huddled group of us hunkered on the couch, reading Spanish kids' books. Somehow they didn't even mind that they didn't know each word. After that, pulling on clothes and tucking in sheets and brushing teeth and picking up stray Barbies, Mag-formers, books, tents. Hurrying out the door and throwing a stroller and a scooter in the trunk. Dropping Tommy off to tennis lessons and going for a run past the cemetery with the younger kids. "There are ghosts living IN the gravestones!"
A few minutes to watch Tommy finish up tennis and then a spontaneous decision to hit the pool.
The kids were chilly and the pool still inviting, so they swam and then lazily laid on the poolside chairs, wrapped contentedly in towels. I actually sat down myself. Felt the medium-hot sun shining down on us four in this wonderful moment. Just so happy and still.
And then, to say yes to a lunch out, fearing that it would be more work to keep them happy and busy waiting for food to come at the pool.
But a pleasant surprise when they waited in their chairs for fifteen minutes, talking and looking and laughing and not getting up. Happy to be where they were. I am so happy, too.
And the food comes and they are sharing and thanking and smiling and eating it all. It's not a rush---no babies, no accidents, no spilling, barely a murmur of disagreement.
And then off to the car and they say goodbye to the people around us---the adults around us---by name. And we cajole on, heading together toward the library.
Jimmy is playing with three little boys, some a bit taller and some a bit smaller than he. It's the standard Thomas the Train table and I am reading my book several yards away. I can hear him jabbering excitedly to the grandma nearby. The other boys are fighting but Jimmy is sharing and playing and then telling me it's time to go the bathroom. He knows where it is.
Lucy and Tommy have bargained with me, How many chapter books can they check out this time? We negotiate and and for a while, they are engrossed in their mission to find the best books. The superheroes. The tween girls wearing impossible fashion choices and reeking of bad writing.
And then those older two are suddenly gone, their piles of books beside them at the computer station. They are happy and smart and clicking away.
They are all waiting for me to distribute the library cards, so they can perform their self-check.
And then let's drive home, my sleeping baby in his little boy car seat. My older kids quietly absorbed in their books. Me on a mission to grab an Americano because I'm still paying for a late night out last weekend.
The day that never happens! I am patient and they are wonderful. We on adventures and then it is naptime and Jimmy slips under his Buzz Lightyear covers. Lucy crawls into her top-the-bed princess tent and chooses a nap. Tommy curls in next to me, wondrously old and curious and reading.
The best.

Family and Life and Musings

It's a sunny winter day and I've pulled my laptop into a corner of rays during naptime. Lucy is working hard on a Sponge Bob puzzle and Jimmy is snuggled into bed with quite a cold.

After lunch today, Tommy hurried to grab his snow pants and shoes and got himself ready for the school bus. Then, as he does every day, he waited for my kiss before walking out the door to his special kindergarten world. "Have a great afternoon, Mom!" he called, preempting my usual farewell.

There is something so beautiful, joyful, and innocent about Tommy's daily excitement for kindergarten. He is always anticipating the next craft, crossing off the next activity on his school calendar. He isn't worried about failing at school. He seems only to have optimism about what lies ahead for his afternoons.

I am so thankful for the joy in Tommy's heart. It's reassuring to send your kid off to something he loves, someplace that reinforces our belief in Tommy's abilities and goodness. And yet still, a part of me wonders, when or will this blissful anticipation of school end? I'm sure it's not going to happen anytime soon, but I know that tests and challenges and social anxieties can make education more of a chore for kids than a reward.

Is there a way to change that? Is there a way to ensure that my kids will all love learning? I hope so. I hope that, even with bumps in the road and hard assignments and trying teachers, all of our kids will share the love that John and I have for learning new things.

It has been so long since I posted on here, and in that interim, my kids have really been growing up. Jimmy will tell you he's two and a half. He sleeps in a bed and he loves to sing songs. He is wild, running from me at the grocery store and constantly climbing on furniture at home. He is endearing, inviting me to snuggle next to him on the couch and proudly showing me how he has hidden and lined up toothbrushes in a row underneath a step stool.

Lucy is almost four now, and she brings up this point several times an hour. She wants to be involved in everything I do, from baking to cooking to cleaning the bathroom. Yesterday, she put on her "cleaning outfit," having noted that I had changed my own clothes to clean. She hopped right into the shower and scrubbed that thing til it shone. (I plan to have her in total domestic servitude by 6.)

Lucy has wide blue eyes and a contagious smile. She likes to direct others in playing, telling them what lines to say or who should be what role. I am always surprised to see that most of the kids we know (including Tommy and his older friends) do listen to her and play as she directs.

It's very strange for my youngest child to be growing into a boy instead of a baby. I haven't been without a baby in almost 6 years! I find myself lugging Jimmy around on my hip, practically throwing out my back to contain him when he really is quite ready to navigate the world on his own two feet.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about kids' independence and how you know when your kids are ready for the next step.

Come to think of it, how do I know when I'm ready for the next step?