Lady Killer

I knew it from the first moment I saw him.  The eyes, the smile, the ability flirt like nobody's business all spell trouble. I knew the girls would love him.  I just didn't expect it to happen so soon.

We were at the coat rack after preschool.  He was goofing around rather than putting his coat on.  A little girl came up and looked at Lion.  She told her mom he "was one of her handsome boys".  We laughed.  She gave him a hug and then a KISS on the LIPS!

His first kiss! At age four!

But I'm sure it won't be his last.

Bigger

The other day someone asked how old my kids were and I automatically answered six and three.  The second the words were out of my mouth I realized my mistake.  They are not six and three, they are seven and four.

They are not who they were, they are something more.  They are bigger, older.  They are further away from that place where they fit neatly in my arms.  Now they sprawl across my lap or worse yet find their own spot.

Slowing it down, stopping time is not possible.  I know, I've tried.  I repeatedly asked Lion not to turn four.  "You are so perfect now" I argued.  "I sorry momma.  I turn four, I no know how to stop it."  It can't be done.  Bigger happens.  Older happens.

Bigger is good.  Older is good.  I have conversations with Bunny that astound me.  She understands so much.  I am beginning to share my interests with her in a way that was not possible before.  She, in turn, has opened her world to me.  The stories she tells, the secrets she shares are beautiful.  I am blessed with a glimpse of the woman yet to be, serious, silly, talented, exquisite.

Bigger is fun.  Older is fun.  Lion is pure joy.  He experiences life, he does not sit on the sidelines waiting for something to happen.  It is inspirational, something that in my 40 some years of life I have never really been able to get the hang of.  I want to nurture that.  I want to wrap that gift so that he can carry it with him.  Remember the time when you were getting bigger, remember that boy, be that boy always.

Bigger makes me nostalgic for smaller.  Older makes me miss younger.  But bigger also leads us to better.  Older leads to more.

Six became seven.  Three turned four.  Bigger.  Older.  Better.  More.

Insecurities

We all have insecurities. Sometimes we can handle them and sometimes we let them control us. I have been dealing with them all of my life.

I'm not good enough.

I'm different, odd, strange.

I have let the fear behind those feelings control what I have done my whole life. There are times when my children do things and it brings those old insecurities back to the forefront.

Monday was the start of summer school. I had signed Bunny up for an art class. I thought she would love it. But I have to admit I was very ambivalent about the whole thing. It was at 10:30 five days a week. That pretty much shot any morning activity for four weeks. No trips to the zoo, no mornings at the pool.

Bunny seemed excited about the class. We drove to the school where it was being held (different than her regular school). I had to go to the office to find out where the room was because they didn't have a listing. While there we ran into one of Bunny's friends. She was excited thinking that A would be in her class but of course she was taking a different class.

When we lined up outside of the room, she started to get apprehensive when she saw all the new kids. Then she saw the teacher and she just lost it. She clung to my leg and started sobbing. She had never done that in K4. I thought it might just be the newness of it all so we went in to class.

I stood with her for a while. I tried to introduce her to some new girls hoping that would help. But I couldn't stay. Lion was about to tear the room apart. I told the teacher we would wait down the hall to see if things got better.

They did not. I could hear her making sounds like a wounded animal, deep painful cries. It seemed as though she was incapable of stopping. I waited 10 minutes and approached the classroom. The teacher saw me and held up a hand. Bunny was approaching the rug for the story. Maybe just maybe she would calm. She did not. It got worse.

The teacher brought her out to me and we left. Bunny could not calm down enough to tell me what was wrong. It took the drive home for her to stop crying enough to form coherent words. When we sat down to talk about it, I could tell she did not want to tell me what was wrong. She was afraid of something.

I assured her that whatever it was, I would not be mad. She finally told me her fear. I was surprised and explain it away. But she persisted. She pointed out concrete examples from her past where she had felt this fear. It explained a lot of strange behavior I had witnessed.

I didn't know what to do. I really didn't care if she went to the class or not but I was concerned about her fear. I didn't want her to not try something because she was afraid. I didn't want her to quit.

I sat and stewed about it for the rest of the day. I remember feeling that fear. I remember how I missed out on so many things because I was afraid to try. I remember how I had not taken chances, not expanded my horizons because I didn't want to leave my comfort zone.

I remember how I did something brave ONCE. I remember how I held on to that one thing. I could rationalize not being brave other times because when I was 22 I did something.

So I worried about Bunny. She had to face her fear. She had to do this because I didn't want her to be 41 years old still holding on to a memory from 19 years ago.

Then I realized that I was projecting all of my insecurities on to her. She is not me. She is her own person. She is only 5. She doesn't need to conquer the world now. She needs to play and have fun. And I need to relax a little bit.

She is not me and I am not her.

Moving Way Too Fast

June 9, 2011. It was a Thursday. It was kinda cold and yucky like much of our spring has been this year. It was a day like any other day.

Except it wasn't.

Thursday June 9, 2011 was Bunny's last day of Junior Kindergarten.

(Pause for dramatic effect)

I know! Seriously, where has the time gone?

In the fall, Bunny will be attending school ALL DAY.

I can't really wrap my head around it. She is my first, my baby girl. But she's not a baby any more. She is 5. She is a kid. She can ride a bike. She can do the monkey bars (all the way across now).

Junior kindergarten was amazing for her. She gained confidence. She made friends. She learned so much. She became a part of the world outside of this family. She started down the road that will bring her to the adult she was meant to be.

Determined

I love watching my kids as they get older. I am constantly discovering more about their personalities. They are polar opposites. Bunny is calm and cautious. Lion is wild and reckless.


Bunny will study the situation. It is almost as if you can see the wheels turning inside her head. She weighs her options and decides on the best course. Lion pretty much just jumps first and asks questions later. Let's just say that it's a good thing he likes band aids.


Bunny has just blossomed in junior kindergarten. She loves school and being with her friends. We pick her up from school at 11 am and *if* it's nice out we stay and play on the playground. (I say *if* because it feels like it will never be nice again).


On the playground their are three high bars. It is the cool thing to flip yourself up on to the bar and sit on top. In order to do so, you have to reach above your head, pull your legs up and lift your body to a seated position. It's not the easiest thing to do.


Bunny's best friends could do it so she had to. I loved watching her figure out how to do it. She tried and tried. At first she could get one leg up, but not two. Then she got both up but couldn't pull herself up.



She tried for about a week to do it. And when I say tried, I mean she didn't do anything else on the playground. Her persistence paid off and she was finally able to sit atop the bar, like a queen surveying her domain. Every morning before school and after she would climb that bar and sit.


After a few weeks she grew tired of this and decided she wanted to learn the monkey bars. She couldn't quite figure out how to do it. She could hold onto the first bar and hang. She could swing her legs but she couldn't make it to the next bar.


She wanted my help but you really can't teach monkey bars (especially when your feet touch the ground). The one thing I made her do is practice dropping. I knew she needed the comfort of knowing that she could land on her feet if she fell. I would also hold her waist as she went across but she still couldn't do it on her own. But she kept practicing.


Then we took her friend M to the park with us. M is a lot like Lion, daring and fearless. The first thing M did at the park was swing across the monkey bars and back. Bunny just stared. She watched everything M did and then she tried to copy her.



Bunny let go of the bar for the first time and reached for the next one. She didn't make it but she kept doing it over and over again. I watched her from a distance as I pushed Lion on the swings. Bunny was determined. If M could do it, so could she. After all she was older than M. So again and again she tried.


And finally she did it. She made it halfway across the bars on her own. I was so happy for her. I thought I would burst into tears on the spot. My little girl had made up her mind to learn something and she did it.


I have no doubt that she can do anything she sets her determined little mind to.

First Days, Celebratory Balloons and Feats of Engineering

Yesterday we all survived Bunny's first day of preschool.

We arrived at school and everyone was excited.



Bunny had her Kai Lan backpack and her trusty triceratops Topsy. Kai Lan would hold all of her treasures and Topsy would keep her safe.

We climbed the stairs.



Found her room.



We braved the chaos and went in. She got an apple with her name that she hung on the bulletin board and a name tag so everyone (who could read) would know who she was. We found her cubby and placed Topsy safely inside. Then she explored the room. At first she seemed a bit tentative but she gained confidence. When she found the playdough, she was all set. She stood side by side with two other kids, who I am sure will become her friends. But for now they were ignoring each other, focusing solely on the playdough.



Frink and I looked at each other and figured this was a good a time as any to make our getaway. We told her we were leaving. We gave her a kiss. She nodded and gave us a dismissal wave as if to to say "go away, I'm busy". So we left.

There was coffee in another room so we could have a chance to meet the other parents. Frink went back to work and I stayed talking with some of the other moms. When I finally felt confident enough to leave, I saw on of her teachers on a bathroom run with another student. I asked her how it was going and found out that Bunny was crying. And then I heard it. A heartbreaking, I want my mommy wail. I was devastated. The teacher looked at me and said "we can handle this". I knew she was right so I left.

Never in the history of time had two hours stretched out so slowly. I went grocery shopping, came home, put all the groceries away and there was still 45 minutes left. So I did what any sane mother would do, I got coffee. And then I did what any neurotic mother would do, I drove to the school and waited outside for the next half an hour.

When it was finally time for pick up, I went inside the school. I stood outside the classroom and heard only singing. No crying. That was good news. When the door opened, I saw Bunny sitting on the floor with her classmates. She looked up at me with a huge smile on her face and I knew everything was going to be alright.

That night, Frink, being the good daddy that he is, brought home a special celebratory desert and a balloon for our big girl. She was thrilled. She loves balloons. And cake. But mostly balloons.



Unfortunately for Bunny, there is another member of our family who also loves balloons. So she spent most of last night and part of this morning screaming "No Tabasco!" "Go away Tabasco!" But of course he got to the balloon and ate some of the ribbon. She was angry. She'd had enough.

So she did what any self respecting preschooler would do, she built a wall to keep him out. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Great Wall of Bunny;



Indeed it is a marvel to behold. Notice that it is guarded by Olive the tiger. The tiger is fierce and will certainly scare the cat away. The wall it high. It is made of bricks and chairs. Surely it will keep the cat out.

Except that it probably won't. But I don't have the heart to tell her.

Threeasaurus Rex

January 14, 2008. That is the day Bunny turned two. I braced myself for the toddler maelstrom that was to follow. I looked at my sweet baby and wondered when she would turn into a terrible tyrant, when would she start throwing tantrums, when would she become TWO.

I waited and I watched. January became February, winter became spring, became summer became fall and finally winter again. And it never came. Not that there weren't the occasional outbursts, there were. But the terrible part never came.

And I wondered why. Was it because she was so verbal that she had the ability to make her feelings known? Was it because she was so sweet natured that terrible was beyond her comprehension? Was it because she was so curious about the way things worked that she figured it out on her own?

Or was it because, as some people told me, three is much worse than two?

Well January 14th rolled around again. January became February became March and there were no problems. Maybe, just maybe we would luck out. Maybe we would not be the parents of a Tyrannosaurus Rex of a three year old.

Well I was wrong. I just learned that it is really difficult to be three years old.

As she loves to tell me, Bunny is not a baby. But she is also not a big girl. There are things she can do all by herself and there are things she can't. There are things that she wants me to do for her and there are things that she wants to do by herself. But her ability does not always match her desire. She wants independance and control. But she also wants the security of knowing that Mommy and Daddy are around, just in case.

She wants to try out her new found abilities, exactly when she wants to whether or not its appropriate. Running becomes running away from you. Jumping becomes jumping off of things way, way too high.

There are days when her ears appear to have fallen off. No matter how many times you repeat yourself, the message does not sink in. Days when you are hoarse from trying to get her to listen when you are only met with a "Huh?" and a turn of the head. "Why don't you listen Bunny?" "Because listening is no fun, momma."

Slights, real and perceived, can result in uncontrollable sobbing. "Why did you put baby allosaurus in the dino cave?" Toys that cannot be found in 2 seconds must have been deliberately hidden by a parent. "Momma where did you put parrot? You hid him from me."

Opinions are exerted more forcefully. A simple no becomes "NO!!!!" accompanied by stomping of the feet.

In other words Bunny is behaving in a completely normal, age appropriate way. And mommy is left trying to figure out how to deal with this new Threeasaurus Rex.

Just Call Me Babe

Bunny is growing up. She is not a baby anymore. And she no longer wants to be called baby.

I cannot call her My Baby, Angel Baby, Baby Girl, Sweet Baby or any combination of words including baby.

When I utter the word baby she says "No mommy call me babe." And so I do. But in my heart I know she'll always be my baby.

Growing Pains

My baby, ok my little girl, wants to grow up so badly. She wants to be a big girl. And not just in the give me your credit card and your keys kind of way.

No Bunny has much more specific goals in mind. She wants to go on the inflatable dinosaur slide at the State Fair. Some days its all she talks about.

You see when we went to the fair, a month ago (hello elephant-like memory) she saw this huge inflatable slide with a T-Rex on the outside. Like any other dinosaur obsessed child this was nirvana, the holy grail of rides.

But she was too small to go on the ride. She did not meet the You Must Be This Tall requirements. She was "too little" so she had to settle for the carousel. Well Bunny decided, right then and there, that she needed to get "big" and get big fast so another opportunity to ride the dino slide would not be lost.

We told her that if she eats her food (and vegetables) and drinks all of her milk she will get bigger. So she eats (most of the time) and drinks like she is supposed to.

While eating she will put down her fork and say "I'm getting bigger." Yes, sweetie you are. "I'm big now." Oh yes, you are so big. "I wanna go on the dino ride." Next time we're at the fair, honey.

Then she'll finish off with this grand pronouncement, "I'm jumbo."