4

From the beginning, you did things your way. I'd gone through so much trouble to have your brother, I always thought I'd have to do the same thing to have you. But...there you were. Easy peasy, in a bundle of pink blankets and thick, silky hair.

Except, you were supposed to be the quiet one. The easy going one in a family full of hot-blooded loud mouths. Instead, from day one you've been bold and fearless. You know what you want and have no problem making sure the rest of us know it too...constantly. I love that about you though it will probably drive me crazy for the rest of my life.

You're a fierce whirl of curly blonde hair, blue eyes and scabby knees (leave those alone, for the love of Pete!). You love ponies and "yoo-nee-corns." Your brother is your Daddy's pride but you're his heart and that's probably going to be trouble in about ten years. Part of me dreads it, but most of me can't wait. Sweet as he is, your brother has made you tough and that makes me grateful. I know for certain, that whatever life throws at you, you'll throw it right back.

Happy birthday baby banana (yes, I know I'm 8 days late). Mommy loves you big too.

Mom

First Week

This is what I've noticed. The six year old has discovered his coolness factor. First, it was with regard to his wardrobe. Bottom line: anything with Donkey Kong on it is acceptable, anything with corduroy is not.

Second, it's show and tell. He was supposed to bring in a picture of something he'd done over the summer (er...and I don't have any copies of the x-ray of his arm...aw man, that woulda been cool though:). We found one of him and his oh-so-cool 12 year old cousin in front of Cinderella's castle. See, for my money, this is cool for a couple o' reasons. 1.) his cousin is kewl with a capital K all right. 2.) The castle is immediately recognizable and everybody knows it's Disney.

Turns out, my logic was waaaaay off. Apparently, for a kindergarten boy, the UN-coolness of sitting in front of Cinderella's anything trumps sitting with of your cool 7th grade cousin. Der! Soooo, we sent a picture of my son in Bruce the Shark's "mouth" at Epcot instead.

And the four year old starts preschool again tomorrow. So far so good, but when I asked her what she wanted to wear, she said "I just wanna go all naked."

Robin

Remember 11th

I started the day with the idea that I would avoid the news. Every year, I make that same promise and every year I break it. I also hadn't intended to write anything meloncholy. The blog-o-sphere and everything else is covered with it. But, I couldn't help it. Somehow, it's my duty, it's everyone's duty to bear witness again. It's almost like the least I can do is watch T.V., silly as that sounds.

Where was I on September 11th? My son was 15 months old and he'd had some issues with his kidney. We were (my husband, my son, I) in the hospital with him getting some disappointing news. He was going to have to have surgery...again. They let us go home. We walked into the hallway and saw a group of people gathered around the T.V. in the surgical waiting room. We just wanted out of there. Whatever it was, we'd catch it on the news at home. We didn't make it out of the building before somebody said it was a plane. We didn't make it out of the parking lot before we realized it was on purpose. When we turned on the radio, they were grounding all of the civilian air traffic. When we got home, when my son was settled...I went to vote.

My husband is in law enforcement and in our city (in every city) they were rounding up volunteers. He wanted to go. He felt it was his duty. I wouldn't let him. I was selfish and I feel guilty about that, but I know I would be again. His duty was here. Our son still had to have surgery. I donated blood. For the longest time, I felt like I didn't have anyplace to go in my head to get away from it. No happy place.

My son had his surgery and he is fine. Thank God. He is fine. Now we've survived our first week of All-Day Kindergarten. He's talking about it. Last year, I couldn't get a word out of him about what happened at school. Now he's a regular chatterbox. He's made a friend already and a couple of school bus-buddies. He's officially "out there." I have good vibes about this year (which I hopefully haven't just squashed by saying that).

And that was my day.

Robin

Labor Day

Well, I think we're ready. School starts tomorrow. My six year old will be gone ALL DAY now. I'm a wreck. I was feeling slightly agitated when he went to bed last night. It was the last night of the summer. I'd waited until the last minute to go grocery shopping for "lunch food." Then, when I finally made it to the store, I fell apart. I got a little weepy in the snack aisle and overcompensated by getting enough snacks to last us until about Valentine's Day. (then I ate a bunch of them when we got home...but that's another topic altogether).

His bookbag is packed. I found a spare shoe lace for his bus tag. I wrapped the bus tag in packing tape to keep it from turning gummy when he inevitably chews on it (Lesson #1 learned from last year). We sat down and had a dry run with the Superman lunch bag to see if he could open everything (he's still kind of one-armed with the cast and all). Lesson #2, stay away from the rubbermaid containers and go with ziploc bags. Also stay away from Capri Suns, those things exist to torture me.

Soooooo, I think we're good to go. Stay tuned, the adventure continues...

Robin

My Four Year Old is Nuts

I think my daughter is turning into a bag lady.

All right, some background...

There's a woman in the town where I live. I'm fairly sure most towns have a character like her. I don't know if she's homeless, I don't know if she's eccentric or just plain loco. No one does. I (and most people) call her the Bike Lady. She rides around, all over town, on her bike. She appears to collect things. Water bottles, walkie talkies, flowers, paper bags, just everything.

Well...

In the last few days, my daughter has glommed on to two lunch boxes and a unicorn purse. She's been carrying them around non-stop. No one has bothered to ask her what's in them, but if you try to take any one of them away from her, she screams bloody murder and throws herself down on the floor. We no longer try to take them.

Well...

Last night, she put them on the bathroom floor as she stepped into her bath. I asked her if I could move them into the hall because I didn't want the metal lunch boxes to get wet. She acquiesced. When I picked one of them up, it fell open.

Well...

Out spilled coins, Littlest Pet Shop animals, ponies (lots of 'em, that I would have guessed), a tiara, a pair of socks, a headband, one of her brother's squishy frogs, various hair ties, a stuffed kitten that was really way to big for the box and would have been gasping for air and angry--y'know, if it was real--a sketcher's tag from one of her new school shirts and one glittery shoe (a size 7 1/2, she's a 9, but it was one of her favorites).

Hmmmmm.

Robin