Oh, so Yummy

It was free ice cream day, at Amy's. We happen to have one nearby, too, so we drove over, stood in line, and got our scoops. I had Mexican Vanilla with strawberries, Jonathan had Belgiam Chocolate with Reese's cups and Oreos (the extra Crush-in was for answering their movie trivia question), Elena asked for Dark Chocolate with plain M&Ms, Joseph enjoyed an Aloha ice with gummy bears on top, and James explored Pumpkin (he thought it was weird, mostly for being cold, but kept grabbing the spoon and asking for more) .

Promotion

Splitting time between Pre-K and 1st grade has been very useful for any number of reasons. Among others, it gave Elena the chance to see bigger kids in action, and it gave her teachers the opportunity to give her more specialized attention. There was a massively huge problem, though. By moving back and forth, she was missing both classes' recess times. For three weeks, she was expected to sit still for classes with kids two years older than her, without the benefit of burning off some serious extra energy. The next thing we know, she's acting up in the cafeteria and rolling around on the floor in class. Mrs. Sr and Mrs. B, the Pre-K teachers, talked with Ms. St, the 1st grade teacher, and saw that it just wasn't working. They then approached the principal and discussed at length what would be best for Elena. They presented us with two options: 1) she could stay in Pre-K and would be given extra responsibilities, acting much like a student-mentor for the other kids, while the teachers did their best to give her the challenge she needed; or 2) she could move up to Kindergarten, splitting the difference between her age and abilities, where the work would be more difficult, but wiggling and playing were still expected (and even encouraged).

It was a big decision, for us. If we left her were she was, there was the risk of boredom and fatigue. If we moved her up, she'd be moving into a whole new age group. It would be a premanent move, too--no "testing it out" or "seeing how she does," here. It would effect the rest of her life. Desperate for some shred of hope to cling to, I reached out to the thought of Elena's cousin, Bridget. They both had the same due date, though Bridget is two years older than Elena. Through the happenstance of fate, though, Bridget was born a preemie and made the September cutoff for Kindergarten, when she turned five. Had Elena been a preemie, too, she would have been on the exact same academic track Bridget took, two years ago--youngest in the class, but delightfully brilliant. This was what I needed. If Bridget could flourish and thrive as the youngest kid in the class, so could Elena.

So, this morning I got Elena up and took her to school for breakfast, as usual. But instead of lining up with 1st grade, where she had been going for morning reading time, or heading to the gym with Pre-K, she was going to her very first day of Kindergarten. I got to walk her to her room and watched as another girl showed her where to hang her backpack. I saw that the tape on the floor had been redone so that she would have a place to sit with her class. I closed the door and peeked through the window just the tiniest bit. I wanted to stay, to make sure she would be OK, but it was time to go. I walked home in a bit of a daze, wondering what she was doing. Somehow it was more nerve-wracking than the first time I left her at school, only 10 weeks ago. Then, it was merely odd that I wasn't the center of her universe, with her nearly every waking moment of her life. Now, I worried about her being the odd duck, catching up with classwork, making friends again, and a thousand other adjustments.

At the end of the day, I suppose I shouldn't have worried so much. Elena bounced down the sidewalk with me, shouting "I love Kindergarten!" and telling me all about going to PE and how she gets to go to art, tomorrow, how they counted to 51 in Spanish, and the picture they colored when they got back from the playground. Responses to questions about Pre-K had usually been short and you'd really have to dig to find out what she did, but here she was bubbling with stories.

The first day of Kindergarten was a roaring success. I hope the rest of the year is, as well.

Haircut

I love my baby boy's curls. They are such a delight. They do tend to get scraggly, though, and poof (yet hang down) in odd ways. Being a Big Kid of 13 full months, it was time for his Very First Haircut. I plunked him down on the bathroom counter, so he could watch, then quickly grabbed the back of his hair and gave a few swift snips. It's not my best job, but it will do. I'm not even going to attempt the top, yet.

Before:
After:

Wonderland

Elena decided she wanted to be Alice, for Halloween, about two weeks ago. Because we like to work in themes (it makes decisions easier, that way), the rest of us sorted out what we would be. There was some debate over who would be the Mad Hatter, but Daddy won out because we couldn't figure out what he would be, if Joseph was the Hatter. In the end, I think it all came out pretty well.


We went trick-or-treating in Mike and Jeri's neighborhood, but since we were running a bit behind we missed almost everyone by just a couple of minutes. The kids still had a great time, getting the hang of trick-or-treating (Elena made sure James got candy, too, even though he didn't really go up to the doors) and then watching It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown with their cousins.

Life is Beautiful

Elena wanted to make me a cake for my birthday, because cakes are very important to the well-being of any good birthday. She wanted it to be triangle-shaped, too, so we went with it. I helped her bake, and Jonathan helped her frost and decorate. There are actually 15 candles, though they spell out 30. I think the Halloween sprinkles are what really make it, though.

My visiting teacher brought a chocolate satin pie, earlier in the day, and I shared some with all who were in the house. James only got a tiny bit, but seemed to enjoy putting it to good use.

The kids have been laughing at the talking jack-o-lanterns in the Papa Murphy's commercials, so I promised we could have a pumpkin-shaped pizza on my birthday. I think it came out pretty good, and the kids thought it was great.

I really think I'm going to like my 30s. I'm old enough that I can do my own thing, again, and no one will look twice at me. I don't feel like I need to pretend that I'm just out of my teens/college, anymore. I don't feel compelled to look at the clothes in the Juniors' department, I've stopped wondering if I'm the Young Mom at the park. My friends range from 23-45 (and there are several of the young women I'm friendly with, as well) and my hobbies give me something to talk about with nearly anyone I meet. I'm loving being the mother of a school-kid, too. I honestly didn't know I could have this much fun waking up before dawn and walking a sluggish child through the cold and rainy puddles. I didn't realize how much I could enjoy talking with teachers about how my daughter is progressing, or sitting down with her and going over homework. It's like rediscovering that brilliant teacher I had that opened my eyes to the wonders of learning, so long ago. Only, this time, I see it in my child's eyes--that dawning awe and inspiration, the knowledge that there is so much to explore and discover. It's a beautiful time, here at our place, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.