Smarty Pants

The Man is dancing the jig because Boo's teacher tested him and he is "a very smart little boy."
Evidently he had doubts.
Not me.
I knew my baby was smart.
He takes after his mama, after all.
I understand why The Man is so happy.
All parents want their kids to be the best, the smartest, the fastest, etc.
Not me.
I want my kids to be happy.
The rest? Just icing on the cake.
Don't get me wrong. I love the fact that my kids are smart. I'm human. Sort of. or at least I pretend to be until the mother ship returns.
But more than anything, I want my kids to feel the joy of learning something new, trying something new, doing something new.
I want them to smile at the mentally challenged child in the store instead of turning away.
I want them to hold a door for an older person rather than shoving past them.
I want them to see a hungry bird and share their crust of bread.
I want them to look at a sunset and wait for that first star to appear, knowing that there is something greater than they are. And that something loves them.
Almost as much as I do.

One week down, two weeks to go!

Boo has settled into school in an admirable fashion.
His teacher's just keep telling us how easily he's taken to it.
And he's so excited to go!
In fact, every morning, when The Man drops him off, he forgets to say goodbye and gets right into his daily activities!
The Man's feelings are a bit hurt, but he'll live.
I'm proud of him and sad to watch my baby grow up so quickly.
And I'm caught into the middle of oldest child purgatory, since Bug's school doesn't start for another two weeks!
He doesn't understand why Boo is going and he's not, especially since they attend the same school.
He's the oldest. He should get to go first.
So The Man and I are trying to make Bug's few remaining weeks fun, but it's a toughee!
We've taken him to finish enrollment.
I've made a big deal out of school clothes.
We're making a special day, just Mommy and munchkin, to go get school supplies.
We have a meet and greet with his teacher.
And I'm off his entire first day of school.
But waiting is hard for an almost five year old with dreams of crayons and schoolbooks dancing through his head.
He's ready to learn.
But they aren't ready for him yet.
I doubt they ever will be.

Bad Bear Bear

I guess Boo's Bear Bear was bad and had to do his punishment!

Out of the mouths of heathens

Boo: I'm gonna play at school. I'm gonna eat lunch at school. I'm gonna make friends at school. I'm gonna go poopy at school. Daddy?

When I'm at school, will you walk with me down the halls?

Happy birthday Bubba!

The Man's brother is Bubba.
Today he turns some indeterminate age. Really. I'm not sure how old he is this year. Older than The Man, but that doesn't say much.
Bubba is a photographer extraordinaire. He's the one I call when I want pics of the heathens--mostly because I know he'll have the patience to get good pics even while they are running around like loons.
And because his photos catch my kids as I'd like them to be--clean, well behaved, and not certifiable.
He's an important part of my husband's small family--and he understands the choices we have made regarding that family. While important to me, that support is invaluable to my husband, which would be enough to endear Bubba to me if I didn't adore him anyway.
He also had the good sense to marry my fantastic sister in law. Major points in his favor.
The brothers have excellent taste in wives, if I do say so myself.
Happy birthday, Bubba. I hope you have a wonderful day!

The face

Today is the day we meet Bug's preschool teacher.
Today is the day I stand face to face with the woman who will begin my son down his journey of academia.
Today is the day that I look into the eye of the woman responsible for my child's safety and decide if she is worthy of that trust.
It's also the day that I pray that she looks beyond the excited little boy long enough to realize that he has a willing and agile brain to care for him.
I will look her in the eye and decide if she is going to be my partner in this year long venture or if we might as well get the gloves on and have it out.
I have fond memories of my childhood teachers. I want my kids to have the same sort of affectionate and firm classroom setting that I did.
I want them to love books and knowledge and school.
And this woman, one of two, will make that a reality or a dream for my oldest boy.
I only hope that, hen I look into the face of Bug's teacher, I find someone with the same goals looking back at me.
And I remember all of my teachers growing up. I thank them, knowing they put me in good stead for my future.
I hope this woman does the same for my child.

Boo's first day of school

This morning, I woke my middle child, dressed him and got him ready for his first day of school.
While I plastered a smile on my face and chattered happily about how much fun he was going to have, I felt a lump in my stomach and tears in my eyes.
My beautiful blue eyed baby is taking his first step away from me today.
I will hold his hand until they pry my fingers loose.
I will hold back tears until I kiss him goodbye.
And I will look at him and see my chubby, newborn baby. The child who clung to me with fierce determination. I see the child with my grandpa's smile grinning up at me as he cries,"School, Mommy. School!"
I will peer through doors and windows until The Man pulls me away. Or vice versus, depending on which of us takes it harder.
Then I will worry all day until I see him again.
I will worry if he's safe.
If he's eating.
If he's having fun.
If he misses me.
If he knows I'll be back.
If he's making friends.
If he's happy.
If he's afraid.
If he knows I'm thinking of him.
If he knows I love him.
And, despite my ulcers and my breaking heart, I'll plaster on that damn smile on my face and greet him enthusiastically.