End of the Year Roller Coaster

It is the end of the school year, so naturally, I am suffering from End of the School Year Blues. It is that time when Manic May gets the best of me and I am riding front row on an emotional roller coaster without a seat belt.

May has become an emotionally confusing time for me. The entire month is go, go, go. We rush from one this to the next. I rarely have time to process all the emotions that range from one extreme to the other. I need time to process the emotions.

A part of me is excited and happy about summer. I get to spend all day, every day with the most entertaining people I know; the A Team. We get to have adventures every day; play, stay up late, catch lightning bugs, paint, make messes, watch movies, read books, play games, and learn new tricks. I love spending time with the girls. Summers with the girls is a huge perk of my job!

Even with the excitement of spending time with the girls, there is still a part of me that is always sad at the end of a school year. I hate saying goodbyes, especially when I am saying goodbye to a great group of kids and parents. It is always hard for me to let go of these young people who I have invested so much time and energy. Lucky for me that I will get to follow some of these people next year when they on to 6th grade! Not only is it hard to say goodbye to students, but it is also hard to say bye to my friends. The people I have been in the trenches with for months. The adults who I have bonded with and shared happiness, sadness, and frustration with on a daily basis. It is hard to go from seeing your friends every day to only seeing them a couple times in 2.5 months.

The biggest reason I get sad at the end of the year is that it marks the passing of time. In 2 days I will be finished with my 15th year of teaching. What?!? It is hard to believe that I have already spent that many years teaching and it is hard to believe I still have a ton of years to go. This year is an especially hard year because it is a milestone year. A1 is leaving elementary school and moving on to intermediate school. How can my little baby really be old enough to be in 5th grade? It can't be possible!

Sweet First Day of Kindergarten A1

Mature Last Day of School A1

My emotions should level out the beginning of the second week of June, so if you need anything from me, you should probably wait until then.

Almost a Whole Hand

Well, it happened.

My baby woke up and decided she was no longer a baby. She decided to turn 4. That, in no way, can still be considered a baby. 4 is old. 4 is almost a whole hand. Being a whole hand is a HUGE deal!

A3 turned almost a whole hand years old and I realized my baby days are done! When she turned 3 I was in denial. Three is still almost a baby, especially when you are tiny and still wearing 24 mo clothes. Three is still baby talk and short sentences. Three is scribbling letters. Three is cut up pizza slices and hot dogs. Three is sippy cups. Three is singing Twinkle Twinkle.

Four is a whole new world of sophistication. Four is being tall enough to reach or climb to get anything you need. Four is being big enough not to need "Month" on the size tag of your clothes. Four is long, never ending descriptive sentences, that we can hear thanks to very expensive SLP services... Four is writing your name, even if it is an upside down mirror image of the "correct" way to write your name. Four is eating whole pizza slices and hot dogs in a bun.  Four is singing "Worth It" and whatever the other inappropriate songs are we listen to in the car because she is the 3rd and I have given up. 

Four is so grown up. At four, she started making plans for her future. At four, she has declared her future career; cleaning and eating ice cream. At four, A3 decided she would marry Hiro Hamada or her dad. At four, she announced she was no longer shy. She has only been four for 15 hours, she has been busy! 

At four, she is ready to take on the world.

4 is old. 4 is almost a whole hand. A whole hand is almost kindergarten. Kindergarten is almost college. I am not ready for this. If you need me, I will be hiding in a bag of malted eggs.

Almost a whole hand and so brave!

Brand new and no plans of turning a grown up 4 years old!

Not a Baby Anymore

It finally happened.

A3 was old enough to join her older sisters at VBS I know that isn't what it is called anymore, but I really don't like change, so it will always be VBS to me. This is the first year I have dropped off all the girls and didn't have anyone to tote back to the car. I have always used VBS as a time to catch up with the youngest A Team member. Now VBS is a time to catch up with me.

I almost had myself talked out of of leaving A3. She seems so much younger than the other two were when they were three. I just didn't feel right about leaving my baby with strangers, even if they were God's strangers. I was confident the other two would be able to hitchhike home if something bad went down, but not A3; she could hardly tell a stranger her name. What was I doing? I prayed all the way to church. I was doing my best to let God handle the worry. When we got to the parking lot A2 said she really felt bad for me since I was going to be all alone. Was that my sign? Was God telling me to keep Amelya so I wouldn't have to be alone? I still didn't feel confident one way or the other. We kept walking.

As we get closer to the door, I noticed a group of young moms. They had just dropped off their sweet preschool kids and had their tiny babies in carriers or strollers. I started to get stroller envy. I wanted to be the one pushing my baby back to the car in a stroller. About the time, A3 started getting crowd panicky. She went from not wanting to be near me to scaling my leg like a prisoner climbing a wall to freedom. She started to whine, "Moooooooomy, hold me. Hold me. Hold me." I told her no and that she needed to walk. She started hyperventilating, "Mommy, hold me. Pleaaaase! I am a baby. I am not big!" There is was that sign from God. Sure A3 acts younger than the other two girls at the age, because I treat her like the baby. I haven't let her grow up like the other two girls. She NEEDED to be allowed to go to VBS.    

I saw a couple familiar faces that made me feel even better about leaving A3. I walked her to her group and she was so distracted by all the kids, the singing, and the generally happy noises that she didn't even notice she wasn't with me. I slowly walked to the back to be the creepy parent who won't let go. I watched and watched. Thankfully, she was singing and dancing and happy as could be. I decided it was ok to leave...

I had three hours all to myself. I didn't know what to do with all that time! There were so many options...

• I could clean the house.
• I could write a post for the blog.
• I could read a best seller.
• I could write a best seller.
• I could read some potential musicals for next year.
• I could grocery shop without anyone complaining.
• I could watch totally and completely grown up non-kid friendly shows.
• I could start and finish T25 without any interruptions.

What I ended up doing;

• Cried in the car for about 10 minutes.
• Went to the grocery store.
• Played the "What If Game
• What if A3 was crying?
• What if A3 wasn't crying?
• What if A3 was too scared to tell someone she had to go to the bathroom?
• What if A3 had an accident? I didn't bring a change of clothes.
• What if A3 wanders off from the group and gets lost?
• What if A3 sees the older girls and won't go back with her teachers?
• What if A3 punches someone?
• What if A3 calls the other kids, "Vaginas"? Sadly, this has been a very entertaining new name she calls her sisters. Why couldn't she stick with "Buttface?
• Watched a Hallmark movie.
• Ate a chocolate chip cookie and didn't have to share it with anyone.
• Left the house 10 minutes before I needed to because no one was there to slow me down.

When I pick up the girls, A3 said, "Mommy, I cried and cried and cried. You left me."  I sure did and I am doing it again tomorrow. Your preschool teachers will thank me and someday you will too!

On the way home the older girls excitedly told all of their A3 sightings. Funny, no one saw her crying the 5 different times they passed her...

What is Puberty?

"Mom what is puberty?" 

Thanks A1! I was looking forward to an uneventful easy night. Why does she have to feel comfortable enough to ask me such things? Just one time I would like to write about how I wished my daughter would open up to me and stop hiding all of her questions. 

Actually that is a lie.  I really and truly am happy that she feels comfortable enough to ask me questions and I don't have to snoop through a diary or her Youtube history (which is all about mermaids) to find out what is going on in her life. I guess I just wish I had some magical pause button that would allow me enough time to collect my thoughts and gather information before I answered her questions.  

IF I had that pause button, here are my best answers:

1. My confused friend Brittany would advise; "Puberty is a time when you're not a girl, not yet a woman." 

2. My science friends would pull out charts and power points. They would say, "During puberty, your pituitary gland in your brain would release hormones. These hormones would stimulate the production of androgen and estrogen in the ovaries. These hormones cause all the physical changes in your body."

3. My friends at Always would propose a jaunt through a flower garden. Mom and daughter holding hands skipping after butterflies that lightly brush our noses. Daughter sweetly giggling while mom tells her adoring daughter of the magical time she is entering. Daughter understands without further questions our comments.

4. My friends at Pinterest would whip up a "Welcome to Puberty Basket." In the handmade basket she would find the American Girl "Body Book," decoupaged deodorant, an embroidered training bra, fancy wrapped and no doubt personalized Always pads, girly hair products, and natural toned makeup. This is an actual thing on Pinterest.

5. My super honest friends would say, "Puberty is a time when you change.  You change from the sweet girl we have loved your entire life, to a demon creature we won't even recognize. Your moods will change from happy to a crying puddle of anger in seconds, all the time, without warning. You will hate me, love me, hate me, love me, and I will feel the same about you; only it will be more of a strong dislike, very strong. Your beautiful clear face won't be so clear; 

remember when Ramona called Beezus "Pizza Face?"  Your body will change. You will feel awkward; less coordinated. YOU WILL NEED TO SHOWER EVERY DAY; a real shower not a dip your head under the water shower. Judging from the way you have been acting the last few months, you will be spending a lot of time alone in your room, without any electronics.  Buckle up sister, puberty is a time of change." 

Since I don't have a magic pause button, what I said was simply, "Puberty is the time you spend changing from a little kid to an adult."

A1 asked, "What changes?"

I tried to keep it light, "Well everything has to change, since you are becoming a grown up. Your body will change and the way you think will change."

A1 wasn't finished, "Man that sounds like a lot of work. I think it will be hard on me."

Not so under my breath, I reassured her it would be hard on all of us. 

P.S. I wouldn't take parenting advice from Brittany Spears, but sometimes loudly breaking out in song eases the tension. Therefore; Brittany would have helped in this situation, if I had that pause button. 

Growing Up Isn't Hard to Do

The A Team did some major growing up this weekend. In addition to A1's mood swings and friend issues, she also found time to perfect her culinary skills. She made her first box of Macaroni and Cheese with minimal assistance. She was so proud of herself! I made her tell me everything she was doing before she did it and I made her reread the directions when she was about to mess up. The only step she had to read twice was where she had to add the cheese... I know it is a little confusing that you would add cheese from a sealed white packet, but that is how lazy parents do it. Get used to it! She served everyone and watched as we ate it. She was full of smiles and happily accepted our compliments. 

A2 wasn't as happy about her growing up moment. I forced it in her. I was a mean mom and made her wear jeans. She hates wearing pants of any kind. She hasn't ever worn jeans because I can't stand the crying and temper tantrums that come when I try to make her wear them. She only wears leggings and the closest thing she has ever gotten to wearing jeans is when she slips on a pair of jeggings, the tighter the better. I'm a Pick Your Battles kind of mom and I decided Saturday my battle was going to be A2 putting jeans on and wearing hem for 2 hours. That was all I asked. She put the jeans on and her body immediately twisted and contorted. She became a human worm rolling on the floor. She began to come up with things she wouldn't be able do it I made her wear the jeans. She wouldn't be able to do the splits, leap through the air, sit, or walk. She began limping and dragging a foot behind her. She became a 95 year old in seconds. I wasn't backing down though. She was going to wear the jeans no matter what. She did have the option of staying home. Once we got to the Apple Barn she forgot all about how horrible her pants were and enjoyed the day. When we got home she even admitted that the jeans weren't that bad. She said she would wear those to school, if it was an early out day. 

A3's growing up happened on the potty. She used the potty twice. She was in the shower and started to panic because she had to go. I put her on the toilet and she started to freak out a little because she really wanted a diaper, but I was not going to do that. I just waited her out and then we celebrated. She told me later that night she had to go again.  I know this isn't the end of diapers for us, but I see we are a little bit closer and that makes me happy! 

Most of the time I get weepy when the girls hit milestones, but these milestones are so glorious! No tears here, I'm ready to celebrate!!! 

My big girls and me, check out A2's jeans!

Judgement

Tonight A1 had one of those tough growing up moments. One second she was my sweet little girl the next second her head was spinning, flames coming out of her eyes and smoke out of her ears. 

She was mad because her life is horrible. I asked her to put her clothes away. She screamed. She shouted. She stomped her feet. She pounded her fists in the air. She pushed A2, who just laughed at her sending A1 in to a new level of rage. She ran to the garage and said she was sleeping there. She came back in and yelled that we all hate her. She stomped up the stairs. She hid in her room. 

Fifteen minutes later she was back downstairs, a sobbing puddle of eight year old girl curled up in my lap. She was ready to unload whatever was bothering her... 

Everyone hates her. This seems to be our theme this year. Her friends all judge her. She hates being judged all the time. Why do people have to judge other people? 

I sat and listened. Finally she got a little more specific. According to A1, all of her friends have been making fun of her for still playing with Barbies. I had a hard time believing it was all of her friends, so I questioned this statement a little further. Turns out not ALL of the girls have been making fun of her. She wanted to know if it was ok for an 8 year to play with Barbies. She wanted to know why someone would make fun of someone else. She wanted to know if the rest of her life was going to be like this. 

Honestly, I wanted to tell that people do this because they suck. That some people are just jerks. I thought about telling her to get used to it because a lot of girls at catty }!+€%£>, but I didn't. 

I didn't because I have hope that she won't have to deal with this all the time. I have hope that at some point girls will stop tearing each other down just because they can. I have hope that people will accept others in spite of their differences. 

I didn't want to tell her all the negatives because that would crush the hope. I would make it true that people suck and girls enjoy being mean to each other. I would make it acceptable. I would make it be what she expects. 

Instead I told her that it is perfectly ok for an 8 year old to play with Barbies. I even offered to play Barbies with her. Thankfully, she said no. I told her that only creative people with good imaginations play with Barbies. I told her that sometimes people can be mean if they don't feel good about themselves or if they don't understand something. I told her that sometimes people in groups will pick on one person to make the others in the groups think they are really improtant or smart. I told her she wouldn't have to deal with this the rest of her life. I told her to choose friends who will love her no matter what toy she is playing with. I told her to walk away if she felt like people were judging her. I told her to do what makes her happy, as long as it follows my rules. I told her to remember this when she is dealing with other people and their feelings. 

I told her to love herself and it wouldn't matter what other people thought. I told her I love her no matter what. I told her God loves her no matter what and is on her side. 

I gave her a hug. Then I told her to go to bed because she was going to have to put her clothes away in the morning. 

Duderant

I have been trying to ignore all the signs and symptoms of the girls getting old. Most days I am successful at denying the fact that my girls are no longer babies. This summer the task has been a little bit more difficult.  Every time I turn around A1 is throwing it in my face.  She is getting older whether I am ready for it or not.

Today as the most undeniable proof that A1 was no longer a baby.  I had to buy her first deodorant; or as A2 calls it, "Duderant." My sweet little girl all of a sudden has become a stinky little beast.  No longer does Johnson's Head to Toe Baby Wash keep her smelling fresh all day long. SHE IS GETTING OLDER AND HAS OLDER KID SMELLS.

Luckily I had the A team with me while I made the saddest purchase of my entire life. A1 danced and pranced down the aisle. Her excitement for first grownup purchase was contagious. Everyone who passed us couldn't help but smile and laugh at her. A2 continuously sang, "Duderant, we are buying duderant." A3 held the deodorant, cuddled it like a baby, and talked to it. How could I be upset with the purchase of this tiny item when it was clearly making the entire A Team so happy?

I have always had a difficult time with the changing of stages of the girls.  It is hard to watch them grow up and feel like they no longer need you.  A1 is leading the charge and well on her way to becoming a tween. I will just need to slow down, take in changes, and let the girls guide me through this.  Growing up stinks, but they know what they are doing...

"Duderant, we are buying duderant!"

 

Being Rejected, Kind of

My rational self knows that everyday the girls are getting older, but I try not to think about it too much.  I don't want to be reminded that they won't always be the tiny people they are right now.  Sometimes I can go an entire week without the passage of time being thrown in my face.

Tonight; however, I was smacked upside the head with the "the girls are getting older" message.  A3 was the courier.  After I finished watching a movie downstairs, I could hear her moving in her bed upstairs.  She likes to bang her head on the rail of the crib when she wakes up at night.  She doesn't ever cry, so we assume it isn't hurting her. I guess we will find out in a few years if it caused any brain damage... Some nights I will go in while she is doing it and move her.  Most of the time she is still half asleep while she is doing it so she doesn't even realize I am there.  I will just roll her over put her blanket back on her and she falls back to sleep.

I ran up the stairs, checked on A1 and A2 who weren't sleeping in their room where they were supposed to be, and then I went to A3's room.  She continued to rock in her bed, banging her hear on the rail as I walked up to her.  I picker her up, gave her a hug and kiss, then I put her back in her bed.  I decided I would kneel down so I could watch her sleep at her level. I had just gotten comfortable when a pudgy hand stuck through the rail, as she pointed she said, "Mom, door."

THAT LITTLE STINKER WAS TELLNG ME TO LEAVE! I felt so rejected as I came to the conclusion she was at an age where she would rather put herself back to sleep than have me hang around and help.  I was starting to get depressed when I recalled that she never wanted anyone to help her get to sleep. She was the one who never fell asleep when I rocked her.  She never wanted to sleep anywhere but in her own room. Alone.

Phew! Was starting to feel better and then I remembered A1 and A2 would have to be moved out of my bed before I could go to sleep. Now, if only I could get these two to grow up to the point where they can put themselves back to sleep and need me to comfort them at night, every night. 

Nicknames

A1 and I had an argument tonight, a silly one.  It was over something that really wasn't worth it.  I could blame it on me being really stressed this week or that I am tired or have had a headache for 3 days, but the truth is we had an argument because I am stubborn and don't want her to grow up.

The argument began simmering about 2 weeks ago when I saw a new name written on her school work.  I just decided to chalk it up to her being lazy and not wanting to write her entire name. Then a few days later A1's BFF came over and called her by this new name. I looked at A1 and she smiled and shrugged. Later that night I told her I wished she would go by her real name and not this new nickname. She basically ignored me.

Tonight I saw her write her new name on her homework and I lost it. I returned to rude mid 90's teen Carrie and snapped at her telling her I didn't like her writing THAT name on the top of the paper and I didn't want to see it ever again. Then she dared to ask me why. My ever cool response, "Because I said so."

A partial truth could have been, "because it is the name of an overdone, annoying musical that was forever ruined when the star of the move version taught all the girls in 4th and 5th grade about our new changing bodies." I could have opted for the half truth and said, "because your dad and I spent many hours fighting and arguing until we picked your perfect name." I could have gone with guilt and said, "because I spent a countless amount of time with you while you wrote your 8 letter name, that I gave you, on all of your classmates' Valentines when you were in preschool." I could have tried to appeal to her desire for fame and fortune and said, "because your name is the name of a future star." I could have been whiny and said, "because I have spent years correcting people on the spelling and pronunciation of your name."

I had so many options, but instead I took the easy way out and went with, "because I said so." Actually, it was a cowardly way out. If I was brave I could have told her the truth, "because it shows that you are growing up and becoming independent and you won't be NEEDING me much longer." A1 picked her own nickname.  She didn't check with me. She didn't consult with me. She took this step all by herself.

She is doing exactly what we have been raising her to do; grow up and make decisions on her own.  Tomorrow I will let her know that, while I prefer her real name, I will support her choice to have a nickname. I will hug her and remind her that no matter how old she is, she will always be my baby and when she gets older she will be just like me.   It is always good to leave them a little afraid.