Stop the clock!

I just finished wiping down the kitchen table and Aubrie just said, "Mom!  Get in here.  Tell me some stories.  Tell me about your day!"

I'm not doing well, folks.  I mean it.  There is something wrong with me.  Every time I think about sending Aubrie to Kindergarten, my eyes start watering up, my lip starts quivering, and I get a huge lump in my throat.  Sometimes I just start to bawl.  What is wrong with me??!!

I've spent the last five years housing babies in my body, diapering them, nursing them, carrying them on my hips (that used to be skinnier).  I've taken millions of pictures, taught them to talk, kissed their ouchies, helped them walk, disciplined them, and ignored their tantrums.  I've collapsed on the couch after they have been bathed and put in bed, I've been sleep deprived, I've easily gained weight and worked hard losing it.  

Why, by the time they all get in school, my house will be quiet, I can watch whatever show I want, I can eat lunch out!  I can go to the grocery store whatever day I want without anybody slowing me down.  I'll have my choice at tons of classes at the Y without worrying if my kids are going to flip out when I put them in the nursery.

It will be heavenly!

But honestly, I don't wanna.  I want to stop the clock and keep these kids right here.  I am going to miss her.  She makes me laugh, she keeps me company, she amazes me, and she has strengths I admire.  She's so sweet and innocent and I'm afraid to send her out into this world.  She's ready.  It's God's purpose.  But I'm just not ready.

The good news is, I don't have to be ready.  I remember freaking out when I looked at the positive sign on the pregnancy test and wondering, "What am I going to do with a kid?  A TEENAGER?!" But Adam calmed me down and reminded me that we just have to take it one day at a time.  She comes out a newborn and then she will be 2 days old and we will turning each day older as parents right there with her.  We grow when she grows.  So this means, when the day comes for us to walk her up the school steps and drop her off for her first day of Kindergarten, we will be ready.  Because God helps us grow just as much as He helps her grow.  He will prepare us and everything just might turn out ok.  

I've been so busy worrying about sending her to school that I've forgotten about the sweet teacher who will be waiting for her on that first day.  She'll probably have a tan from summer break.  She will look well rested and she will be super excited about the start of a new year.  Her classroom will smell of freshly waxed floors, new crayons, and sharpened pencils.  And I'll look around and admire all the time and energy she put into her bulletin boards and centers and I KNOW she will have spent WAY TOO MUCH of her own money preparing her classroom.  Because that's what teachers do.  They care.  They care more than we give them credit for.  

Deep down, I hope she gets a first year teacher.  They're the best.  They're ready to change the world and haven't been bogged down by the paperwork, testing, and pressures from the administration...yet.  But if she doesn't get a first year teacher, that means that right now, at this very moment, her teacher is in the trenches.  It's grey outside and cold.  The kids have way too much energy that isn't getting released outside like it should be.  State testing is right around the corner, so the atmosphere in the school is dingy and tense.  She is probably sending home canned goods with one of her students because she knows they are on their own on the weekends.  

I realized that I don't need to just be praying for myself and Aubrie as we are heading full steam ahead towards this dreaded first day of Kindergarten.  I need to be praying for her future teacher and the people that surround that teacher.  All the individuals that put in so much time and get so little pay to welcome little ones like my Aubrie every year and dedicate a whole year to teaching them and guiding them along the way.  

And the praying starts now.  These teachers need us on their side.  Because Aubrie won't be alone.  I'm not just throwing her to a pack of wolves.  An eager teacher will be waiting for her and God will be with her.  And I won't be alone...neither of us will.

  Doesn't mean I won't cry, though. 

Five today.

I know Emilie is going to miss her, too.  Poor Kyle is going to have to learn how to clown around with his sister.

We have a chore chart for the girls with things like no snack sneaking, talk sweet to family and friends, set and clear the table, wash hands with soap, etc.  And they each have one specific one and Emilie's is buckle up by yourself.  It's not asking much, really.  But for some reason, the girl's hands go completely limp when we want her to buckle up.  She can smack her sister and hit a volleyball, but can't push down her own seatbelt.  Well, the other night, when we got to that one and asked her if she buckled up all by herself, she said "Yes Sir!" and Kyle yelled, "LIE!"  Even he is on to her!

Emilie has been calling Kyle my "only son."  Mom, come look at your only son!  I think it was a combination of what she's been learning about Jesus lately in church and Christmas.

The other day, while on the phone, Kyle showed off his hanger (hunger + anger) by taking a box of cheerios and dumping them on the floor.  After he ate some of them, he started doing the Mexican hat dance on them and I had crumbs everywhere.  He can also reach anything and everything on he counters.  He grabbed my cooled down coffee off the counter and went to drink it and dumped it all over himself and the floor....as we were getting ready to leave.  

Sometimes I look at him and can't believe that I have a little boy.  And he is ALL boy!  

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