(Photos by Grace)
You know those certain times of year when things just seem to be moving too fast? Like Christmas. Or your birthday. Or the end of June... Ever since I found out my baby is head up into my ribs, I've been feeling this way. Like I want to just slow things down.My day is going by in flashes. A flash of Ruby last night who when I read the story of "Ping", she put her head on my arm and started caressing my wrist and hand and then held my hand steadily. You see, "Ping" is the story of a duck who loses his family for most of the book and then finds them at the end. The very page when he sees his family sail away on their little boat and he is left in the reeds all alone, is the moment when her head went, "dunk" onto my arm and she couldn't help herself. She felt it so strongly, how it would really feel to lose her family. I felt it, too, and I was so drawn in by that little head right next to me and the way she told me how she felt with no words at all. As I type, she's daytime Ruby again, and since I've asked her to use the potty, she's been running around naked from the waist down, jumping around, asking in a weird dialect if she can play her daddy's ukelele. All the while she hasn't stopped moving or throwing herself against surfaces (like my clean bedspread).
And then there's this girl. Who started a summer preschool program this past Monday. In Florida, it's a free 6-week program that gets pre-kindergartners ready for Kindergarten. I thought it would be great for her, since she has never gone to school, she needed some preparation. I think it's preparing me, mostly, to tackle that horrible sick feeling of having my baby girl gone most of the day. Away from me and our temperature-activity-influence-controlled environment here at home. It's hard. Let me just tell you that much.
Monday, I bawled as soon as I walked out of the school at 8 a.m. after dropping her off. I was still crying about ten minutes later when I finally got ahold of myself (I was almost home). It's just so SAD. And she loves it SO MUCH. And she wanted me to leave her there. And she was so grown up about it. Carrying her head up like a real 5 yr. old. It was just too much to handle. And now she has some friends. And they give her a high five when she walks in in the morning and a loud, "HI GRACE!!" And she loves it. And tells me that I need to leave her there the WHOLE time (I picked her up two hours early the first two days because I just really was ancy) and when I try to ask her the details she kind of looks out the window like she's thinking about it all on her own. Just talk to me Grace. Always, always, talk to me. That's all I really want in this life.
15 comments:
I almost started crying just thinking of Adelaide getting so grown up. I can't believe Gracie's going to school. It's just too much.
So I'm over this time of my life. But I still quaver when I drop my 14 and 12 year old "babies" off at the bus stop. I am still crying after reading your blog. Because I remember as if it was today that I dropped them off on their (my) first day. And the feeling of dropping Sarah off 23 years ago comes pouring over me like a torrent. My life is beautiful. And the tears and sorrows are a huge part of that beautiful. Thank you for the stuffy nose, Sarah.
hisarahhavegreatday
Yeah dude crazy how fast everything happens. I have a few kids of my own... that I want some day.
thanks for another tear jerker sarie. as always beautiful sentiments, eloquently worded, and a kind reminder of why i shouldn't beat my kids!!!
i love you, sharry.
I think I will feel the same way when Benson goes off to school. He's only 2, but I think about how sad it will be. But--there are days now that I wish I could send him off to school for a few hours (or most of the day).
Do you know that I come to read your blog and think, Yeah Avery doesn't really need to go to preschool in another year and a half: she could stay at home just like Grace did and be perfectly fine and make friends all on her own and...
I wish for the same exact thing Sarah. To just always have her be able to TALK to me.
Every day that I picked up Hannah from school I would ask her what she did. She would look at me and say "I don't know" And then a few hrs later she would tell me.
I finally figured out that if I told her what we did during the time she was at school that she would tell me what she did at school.
Sarah, I think your blog is so funny- like a mommy forum/chat room!! You are connected to a lot of cool people. . . Of course I can't remember which child of mine was upside down close to the end, but one of them was. . . they had me do those excercises where you try and use gravity to get the babe in place?! Have you done those yet? Anyway, the baby turned right at the end. . .no problem. Baby Turner was posterior (face down instead of up) and the doc pushed his head back in and turned just his head to get him out. Andy said it looked really weird. But he wouldn't have come out any other way.
Things were intense with that boy and the epidural really helped to calm me down, and, strangely, got his heartrate back up again.
I believe in going with your instincts which you are good at and all of these other cool people recommend.
Life never seems to go exactly the way you try to imagine it.
oh my gosh! that picture of Grace with a backpack stops my heart! what a little girl. what a little student! i love it. i love her. i love your family.
xoxo
Oh Sarah, I think the late stages of pregnancy make us sisters reflective, emotional, deep and thoughtful. Great post sis, tell Grace to stop growing up RIGHT NOW until I see them again!
Is it different for mothers with their boys? I went with Zac to orientation day because we had a student free day at my work, and I stayed for the hour then we went home together. But when he started Kindy for real I was at work so Mick took him. No tears no fuss just boys doing manly things. I rekon it must be different.
I know exactly how you are feeling. Even though Alyssa has been in preschool since she was 2 years old--kindergarten is such a big step. I tear up every time I think about her first day! It made me laugh that you picked her up 2 hours early. Kids don't seem to mind growing up; it is just us mothers that struggle with it!
Oh yes, I loved the talk to me part. Remember my mom talking about the afternoon my older brother, probably 10 at the time, came home, got an appl eout of the fridge and generally refused to tell her how his day was. I think it still hurts her feelings.
You just always have to do that. At 11 am, with my brother in law sitting on the couch, I'm trying to be all discreet with my goose bumps, frog, and tears. 2 hours early?? That's so great.
And daytime Ruby? All day I try to remember that sleepy Sophia--- it helps me through. :)
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