she's been in school a while now.
buddy has been taking it really hard.
she's always been there, 24/7, 365.
they have never spent days or very many hours apart.
the very first day of school, little man and i got to walk her to the classroom. She was pumped and we were (of course) running late. We quickly rush into the building. i'm suddenly remembering things i've forgotten to do:
paint her toenails.
put the lunch money in an envelope.
write her name on her back pack.
brush your own hair.
leave on time, again.
once we're in there, she's beaming and MP has a sudden urge to pee.
he helps himself to the in-room potty throne. she settles down in her chair and i start doing the 'last minutes' i should have handled at home. MP comes out, helps himself to a john deere tractor and proceeds to drive it around the room. i've finished up and it is time to go. we can't linger any longer. although, we would have both stayed all day if we could. he starts to resist me and i know it's gonna be a fight. i kiss my girl and walk back over to my boy. i can see the fear and hurt in his eyes. i can imagine the thoughts in that too smart 3 year old noggin "so this is it, huh? you told me i can't stay? we'll see about that lady."
and the bottom drops out.
i bring him over to say good bye to his sister. he screams. he cries. he kicks. he pinches. he hollars and wails and fights. i promise y'all he reached new levels of tone, pitch and volume that day. meltdown 101 has passed and he is now in a master's program on fit throwing.
so, we're walking now. through the halls. me and my boy.
i clutch him to my side as best as i can without resorting to the football hold on him. we're quite the lovely pair walking through the otherwise quiet school. he's screaming and i'm silently weeping. i'm fighting with all my might to keep him on my hip. my cheeks hot and wet with tears. people brightly exclaim as we pass, 'Oh, he wants to stay!' i squeeze out a pretend smile and wish their mouths closed shut for eternity. you are not helping PEOPLE! and i'm hurt on two levels this day. one: i was utterly embarrassed. two: i knew how bad this hurt him.
not surprising, it took me twenty minutes or more to leave him at daycare that morning. it was just too much for him to bear. my little man felt abandoned. he missed his sissy so terribly already. and in case you didn't know, he was going to show you just how bad it hurt.
i surprised him that day and picked him up during naptime. we had to pick up sister from 'big school'. she was going to be a carrider for like the only time all year. it was a really big deal. the time finally comes after what felt like a million minutes, and she's with us again. MP couldn't be happier. he picked out a special drink and treat for her and presented it to her with a flourish as soon as she was settled. that afternoon went by quickly.
a few days pass and MP is still struggling. he just doesn't understand why sister is not with him. and why can't he stay with her at 'big school?' it's completely logical to him. drop me off and i will just stay with her, mama. it'll be alright, he says. but we carry on each day. trying to make it work. trying to make it better, easier, a little more bearable for him.
a few more days pass and Norie asks if MP can sleep with her, in her bed. wellllll, okkkkk. sure. why not? he stays in there for a bit and then decides he wants his own room. i come to help him carry his things and my girl starts crying. real tears. and i ask her what's wrong.
she tells me: i just need him to stay with me mama. he's the bestest. he's the bestest, when the lights go out at school; he never gets scared. and when my things fall, like my jewlery box, he always catches them so they don't break. he's just the bestest, mama. he's my hero! she says with a quivering conviction in her voice.
MP is radiating with happiness. his sissy needs him too! she asks him so sweetly, to just stay with her awhile. and eagerly, he climbs back up and settles in with her. snuggles up and kisses her forehead. and as i'm walking out. i hear him whisper, thanks sissy. i luveee youah.
my heart smiles. my two perfect peas in a perfect pod.
bestest friends.
Until, tomorrow morning, i'm sure. ;)
she is my first born.
she is my princess.
she is a diva.
she is an amazing big sister.
she is a kung fu panda bear.
she is a singer of all words.
she is my GIRL.
and my baby...
and mama's baby; well, she started kindegarten this year.
at four years old (going on 17).
i'm going to try to explain to you my emotions leading up to this magical day in my Norie's life. it's gonna be hard. and i'll probably cry again sitting in this chair in the grey walled cubicle at work; but she'll want to know one day how her mama felt.
it started a few weeks before august. i started getting anxious. and antsy. and sick and nervous. Lord, was i sick and nervous.
and then, before i could blink, it was time to buy her school supplies. it was time, already, for backpacks and lunch boxes and crayons and folders. and it was time, for her first REAL taste of that sweet nectar of independence for which she longed for so deeply.
mama cried.
skip to the night before with me. come on. it was August 8, 2011.
nine days before her fifth birthday.
she's out of the bath, getting her jammers on, and playing with her brother in those last few minutes before i say 'bedtime babies!'
she brings the brush over to me so we can get all the tangles.
she leans back ever so sweetly to fall into my arms and says, 'mama, tell me about when i was little? when i was a baby? tell me about that.' she LOVES to talk about that.
and y'all, i swear, it almost knocked the wind out of me.
looking into these old-soul eyes, so deep and brown and beautiful. i didn't see her as herself in that moment, no. i saw her as my miracle baby, my angel, my infant, my gift. all newborn and pink. and then i saw her fat chubby cheeks and those juicy thighs eating baby food for the first time.
then before i knew it, without blinking:
i saw every milestone.
every single smile.
every single cry.
every single word.
every single cut and bruise.
every single moment.
each moment i'd had with her up to this very second in time.
mama cried again.
but, i settled myself down and put on my best cheerful grin and we talked about those moments i just saw flash before my eyes. and she relished those words curled up in my lap with her mama holding her. just like when she was a baby. next, i gently explain that it's getting late and we need to get those tangles out. she sees tears in my eyes now as she's turning around and i fight them back with everything i have. it's too late though. she's asking now why her mama is crying.
i tell her they are happy tears.
and i tell her, i'm just remembering all the wonderful memories she's given me so far.
and that i love her.
and that she is kind.
and smart.
and beautiful.
and perfect.
ab-so-lutely perfect.
and as i brush her long brown hair with perfectly golden highlights framed just so around her face... i silently cry (more like muffled sobs with ridiculous amounts of hysteria, but you know, whatever) so she can't hear me.
and i think to myself, my baby isn't a baby anymore.
she's growing up, mama.
she'll never be little again.
sigh.
yet, the strangest thing happens...as my heart is aching for those wonderful times gone by-my heart is bursting with pride at the same time.
you wanna know why?
because she's perfect.
ab-so-lutely perfect.
i get my angels all tucked in. it's just me and roxee awake now.
and even through my pride, my happiness, my joy...
i cry each and every time i pass that big girl backpack that night before big school.
my baby, she started kindergarten.
and she's not looking back.
it's tough navigating the waters of life, eh?
we all have a lot on our plates.
we all have different stressors.
we all have our varied forms everyday.
so why, is life so damn hard for me?
i know my husband didn't come with an instruction manual.
neither did my kids.
why is it that some people seem to get it?
why do they get to know how to handle life?
did they get a special book?
and where can i get this book?
were they born with some seventh sense that i know nothing about?
how come i wasn't born with it, too?
honestly though...does everyone have these questions or is it just me? (don't answer that)
i'm hearing a lot from people in my life, that i am not ok now.
that i am different than usual. and that stings sometimes.
but then, i take a look inside and inventory my thoughts of late.
and that's when i think i see what they see.
a different girl.
a different mom.
a different me.
i started this draft february 2010.
and i finished it today, more than a year later.
i just keep wondering, is there more for me?
yes there is.
and tomorrow... i'll recap what it's been like in the past few months. with pictures and happiness.
pinky promise.
