I Want You To Be The First To Know

My dear baby Jack,

This week, after a lot of soul-searching and honest conversation, mommy and daddy have decided that it's time for me to go back to work. It's going to be a process, and it's not going to happen tomorrow, but the idea is officially on the table. I just wanted you to be the first to know.

I knew this day would come eventually. Mommy has been blessed to be able to stay at home with you and your sisters for this long. I knew that it would one day come to an end, but I didn't know it would hurt this much. I haven't even started applying for jobs yet, but already my mind is racing forward and I'm envisioning the day I have to bring you to daycare and kiss your sweet face goodbye.

This week we sent Jenna off to kindergarten, and I felt like I could finally look at her and say that I'm a good mom. Finally, for the first time in five years. I realized that I must be to have created and raised a child as good as her. I was able to be at home with her for the last three years, and I'm so thankful for that! Then there's Kara. Mommy has been at home with her ever since the day she was born. She might grow up and feel slighted as my "middle child", but I will always tell her that mommy got to spend the most time at home with her when she was a child. The first three years of a child's life are so important. I got to be there for all of Kara's.

Now I look at you, and I don't know how I can do it. How can I short you on these quality years of having mama at home with you? How can I trust someone enough to do the job that I'm not even sure I trust myself doing? You are precious, sweet, funny and so full of life. You're smart, happy, and so full of personality. I guess I'm just feeling badly because of all that I'm going to miss out on by not spending another 18 months at home with you.

You're my last baby. My youngest. My little boy. I intended to spend days with you all to myself once your sisters were both gone to school. I was going to spoil you rotten, shower you with undivided attention, and give you some special time alone with just mommy and you. I was going to sign you up for classes, take you all kinds of places, and teach you all kinds of wonderful things. When I do go back to work, I might not have as many hours to do those things anymore, but I'm still going to do them. I might have to go back to work, but I'm never going to stop working on being your mommy. You are my first and most important job. I'll never forget that.

I'll also never forget how lucky I have been to be at home with you for your first 16 months of life. All that I've been around to witness, all that I've been able to do to help you grow and learn new things every day. This time with you has been such a miracle, such a gift.

I'm going to go now, so I can sneak up to your bedroom and watch you sleep. It's not going to happen tomorrow, but I'm officially going back to work. Sometime soon. And before that day comes, I'm going to soak in as much of you as I can.

All of my love,
Mama

To My Daughter, On Her First Week of Kindergarten

My dearest Jenna,

Well, we survived the first week of kindergarten. Mommy was a nervous wreck, but you were amazing. Your excitement and enthusiasm, once again, over-rode your nervousness. We were able to go to your open house day together, and meet your teacher and see your classroom. While we were there I caught glimpses of the shy, quiet girl that you have always been. But I also saw another side of you beginning to emerge. Your many pre-school experiences have given you a certain wisdom of what school is, what to expect, and what things mean. You've already achieved many of the academic skills that will be worked on during this first year of school, but it's obvious that the social interaction and time with kids your own age will be of great value to you. You're a social girl. You love other kids, and I'm sure that you'll be making many, many new friends in kindergarten.

The first few days of you being gone from home during the day have been strange. Although you're the quietest and most mild-mannered of my children, the house was strangely quiet without you around. I guess it's going to take some time for all of us to get used to this new stage in all of our lives. Kara and Jack will be learning to play together more, and mommy will be getting used to doing without all of the help and companionship you have always offered me during the day.

As worried as I was about you riding the bus to school, you once again amazed me. I could hardly believe that the same little girl that cried about riding a bus on a field trip without me last year was so excited and brave about riding the bus to school this week. You met some little girls in the neighborhood on the bus stop the first morning, and held their hands and hopped on the bus with them without so much as a glance back at me. It's probably a good thing because you weren't able to see the tears welling up in my eyes.

It is with great sadness that I watch you begin your journey in school . . . your journey into becoming a "big kid" . . . your journey into independence. My heart hurts to think that your baby days are over, and I'm going to be spending more and more time watching you go about your life and not needing my help. You don't need me to drive you to school anymore, you don't need me to hold your hand as you enter the school each day. You're starting to roll your eyes at me, call me "moooooommmm" in an exasperated, "big kid" way that I'm not ready to hear. You're already evasive when I ask you about your day at school, and you've already corrected me on more than one occasion and told me that your teacher said it was okay. Sigh.

I think I've finally put my finger on the pulse of my sadness. I've figured out why this is such a difficult milestone for me to watch you achieve. It's because for the first time in your life, I'm giving up some of my control over the things you do, the people you're with, and the things you're learning. I'm putting your precious, delicate mind and body into the protection and care of other people that I don't even really know. I'm facing the test that all parents face at this point in their children's lives. I'm needing to have confidence in the fact that I've raised you right and you are ready to go into the world and make good choices, be a good person, and value the opportunities of education. I've had to allow myself to say, for the first time in 5 years, that I'm a good mother. I've been a good mother to you. I've given you all that a mommy could give, and I have no regrets about the way we've raised you.

I'm proud of you. I love you. I think the world of you. And now the world gets to meet you too. They're gonna love you!

All my love,
Mommy

100 Things About Me

Now, keep in mind that the main purpose of this Blog is recording history for my children. I'm sure that 99.9% of you out there could give a hoot less about this compilation of facts about me. Move along then. Don't feel compelled to read it. While I feel silly about writing such a self-centered post on my blog, I do feel that it will one day (far, far in the future) be worthwhile reading for my children. A way for them to get some insight on who their mom is . . . at least who she was back in 2008. I wish I had a similar recorded history of my mom or grandmother. How cool would that be, to be able to compare my adult life to theirs? Their feelings at age 35 to my own? Anyway, without further ado . . .

100 Things About Me
THE PHYSICAL ME
1. I'm 5' 1-1/2" tall. Yes, I always do include that 1/2" , if people ask. I'm not as exact with my weight. Let's just say I'm over 100lbs., and leave it at that.
2. I have really dark brown hair, naturally . . . despite the fact that I was very blond as a child. Now I pay about $80 every three months to add a touch of blond to my hair. It hides the gray that is starting to appear.
3. I have just about the worst looking feet and hands you can imagine.
4. I have brown eyes like both of my parents but, unlike my parents, my vision is perfect.
5. I'm right-handed.
6. I had my gallbladder removed in 2006, so I have four tiny scars on my abdomen from the procedure.
7. I have a freckle in my ear that people always think is dirt or something else.
8. I have two vaccination marks on my left shoulder, but have no idea why I had that vaccination twice.
9. I still have a scar from the place where my first chickenpox emerged. I scratched it until it bled before I knew what it was.
10. The sagging skin on my belly and hideous veins on my legs appeared between 2002 and 2007, a.k.a. the five years that I spent pregnant and/or nursing my babies.

FAMILY STUFF
11. I am the oldest of two children. I have a brother Dan that is 3 years and 10 months younger than me.
12. My mom and dad also have only one brother each, although they are both the youngest.
13. My paternal grandparents, "Papa Bud" and "Grandma Dorothy" were both deaf; one was born deaf, the other lost hearing from scarlet fever as an infant.
14. My maternal grandparents, "Grandma and Grandpa Lenon", adopted my mom and uncle from Catholic Charities as infants.
15. I met my husband on a blind date . . . we were set up by his mother, who was my co-worker at the time.
16. I had three distinct types of labor and delivery with my children: the first was "too slow" (Jenna's took 14 hours), the second was "too fast" (almost gave birth to Kara in the hospital waiting room, WITHOUT an EPIDURAL, I might add), the last was "just right" (Jack came after I was in the hospital for about 2 hours and about 20 minutes after the epidural).
17. Jenna's middle name, Margaret, is after my Grandma Lenon.
18. Kara Lynn's name is in honor of Mark's mom, Carolyn.
19. Jack's given name is John Philip, after three of our grandfathers who were named John, and Marks' grandfather Philip.
20. I came from a small family and love being a part of the larger family that I married into.

HOBBIES AND STUFF
21. Although I don't find much time these days, I love to read.
22. I used to be really into scrapbooking, but just can't find the time to keep up with it these days.
23. I love to watch movies, both at a movie theater and at home.
24. I would someday love to learn to do something creative: painting, pottery, sewing
25. Although I'm new at it, I consider writing a hobby of mine as of late.
26. I like to spend time alone. Whether it's reading, walking, shopping, or just lounging, sometimes I just need some down time.
27. Speaking of down time, I love to nap! Mark can hardly force himself to sleep during the day. Me? I could close my eyes and fall asleep practically any time, anywhere! Closing the shades and laying in my bed for a daytime nap is a real treat for me. I get it from my dad.
28. Despite what Mark's family might think, I actually like to play games. Only I'm not good at them, and the competitive nature of games makes me nervous. But, I like trivia games, word games like Scrabble and crossword puzzles. I know, I'm a nerd.
29. I like television. I'm not a t.v. junkie, but there are a few shows out there that interest me, from sitcoms to dramas to documentaries to cooking shows to reality t.v. to news programs. There's not a whole lot on network television that interests me, but I can usually find something on cable worth watching.
30. I like shopping, especially for decorative things. Most of the time I'm just browsing, but I love to look at home decor, furniture, linens, wall hangings, pottery, holiday decorations, etc.

STUFF I HATE
31. Tuna.
32. Racism, intolerance and ignorance.
33. Too much commotion, noise, disorder.
34. Really hot weather and really cold weather.
35. Storms. I'm very, very afraid of storms that pack lightening, wind and/or tornado warnings.
36. Living away from my family and friends.
37. Dog hair/cat hair . . . any shedding animal hair on my carpet, clothing, car, etc. Drives me crazy!
38. Heights. I wasn't always afraid of them, but I am now.
39. Flying. Same as above. Never minded it as a child, but have grown fearful over my lifetime.
40. Confrontation. I rarely stand up for myself, argue with others, or voice my complaints.

I BELIEVE
41. in God.
42. that all things happen for a reason.
43. in always following your gut.
44. that there is good in everyone, but nobody is perfect
45. that you should never stop learning.
46. in miracles.
47. family matters most.
48. I'm a good mom.
49. my children are my greatest responsibility and a true gift from God
50. in volunteering and sharing my gifts and talents where they can be used

I WISH
51. my grandparents lived long enough to see me get married and meet my children.
52. that I never started smoking.
53. money wasn't a concern
54. I lived closer to my family and friends.
55. my kids will grow up healthy and happy and strong.
56. my marriage will last forever.
57. I tried harder in college.
58. that I would have made exercise a habit early in my life
59. that I would have lived on my own and traveled more before I got married and started a family.
60. I had a closer relationship with my brother.

I'VE NEVER
61. interviewed for a job I didn't get.
62. been to Europe.
63. done drugs.
64. lived by myself.
65. gotten a tattoo
66. broken a bone.
67. been skydiving, hot air ballooning, or anything else that requires being high above the ground -- except para-sailing
68. been in a fist-fight
69. been arrested (I was "picked up" for underage drinking once as a teenager, but not technically booked)
70.

CAREER AND EDUCATION
71. I went to Catholic school from kindergarten through high school and wore uniforms to school every day.
72. I graduated from NIU in four years, despite failing and having to re-take a few classes and changing my major from physical therapy to speech pathology
73. I applied to about 10 graduate schools for two years and was never accepted into a speech pathology program.
74. I went to night school and got my masters degree in Early Childhood Education.
75. I always had a job from the time I was 15 until I became a stay-at-home mom at age 31.
76. I've worked at an ice cream shop, doctor's office, realtor, health center, special education cooperative, university and elementary school. I've also shown model homes, tutored, babysat and worked at a meal preparation chain.
77. I was hired for a job as a waitress, went to the training and orientation, and was never called to work there. That was almost ten years ago. To this day, when I drive by the restaurant I always say, "wait, let me run in and see if I'm on the schedule for this week." Still cracks me up. Darn 'Leona's'!
78. After graduate school, I went on to work for the university in a grant program created by one of my professors.
79. I've been lucky enough to work with some amazing people in every job I've ever had. There's at least one person from each place that had a major impact on my life, and I keep in touch with people from just about every place I have ever worked or gone to school.
80. As a student, I was always excellent at standardized tests. I always scored in the upper 90th percentile in grade school achievement tests. . . did so well on high school entrance exams that I landed in honors classes . . . scored pretty well on my ACTs and GREs. Ironically, I'm a much better test-taker than I am a student. A very rare reversal of what is normally the case when people don't test well.

KID STUFF
81. My mom was a stay-at-home mom until we were in school, and then she worked at our grammar school.
82. We went on a vacation every year that I can remember. Sometimes it was a short trip to somewhere in the Midwest, sometimes it was a big trip to a place like Disney or Canada or California.
83. I always had my own room and can still remember the pink walls and red carpeting of my childhood.
84. My happiest memories of childhood are the holidays I spent with my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, and all of the time I spent at my grandparents' houses -- having sleep-overs, playing at their houses, and having Sunday dinners with the whole family.
85. I lived in the same house from the time I was two months old until the day I got married (well, except for college and a brief stint living in an apartment after college). My parents still live there today, and I love that my kids have the chance to grow up with that house as well.
86. I met friends in kindergarten that I still have to this day.
87. I spent a lot of time at the public library -- checking out books, taking classes, and participating in reading programs. My love for reading was fostered from an early age.
88. I can still recall the magic of Christmas time, and the tradition that came with it: decorations, midnight mass, lifesavers and calendars from grandma, the wonder of seeing the gifts that Santa left under the tree, driving home late at night from my aunt and uncle's house with my grandma and grandpa in the back seat of our car, listening to Christmas music on the radio.
89. My dad came home from work every evening at 4:20pm, and I was usually laying on the floor watching the Brady Bunch on t.v. while my mom made dinner in the kitchen. I can vividly recall the rough, green shag carpet on the floor, the gold couch pillow I was laying on, the darkness that would be falling over the room as the sun set during the winter months. Cozy!
90. I remember the happy times of playing with neighbors outside all day long. . .attending friends' birthday parties at McDonald's, Farrel's, Zips, Ground Round, the roller rink and in their homes. . . having "best friends" that would change from year to year (Colleen L., Stacy S., Gina F., Michelle E., Audra D., Julie H. , Kristen A. and Kristen G.). I also remember the sad times like being ditched by friends that I thought were coming over so that I could go trick-or-treating with them after school (yes, that's you Kristen A. and Kristen G., if you ever read this! But I forgive you and love you now.)

MORE ME
91. I'm impatient, moody, sarcastic, and honest. I have a hard time admitting when I'm wrong.
92. I'm always willing to help a friend.
93. I'm not a perfect wife, by any means, but I'm faithful, dependable, honest, and trusting.
94. I cry easily. When I'm angry, sad, frustrated, happy or hurt, the tears just flow.
95. I start a lot of things that I never finish, and tend to procrastinate a lot.
96. I'm very organized and a bit anal. This might not be reflected in my day-to-day life, but if something is unclean, unorganized or out of place, it bothers me.
97. I'm sensitive. I take things to heart, don't easily forget insults, don't handle criticism well.
98. There are very, very few people that I don't get along with. I'm pretty good at adapting to new people and places and can talk to most anyone.
99. I don't like to brag about myself, so let me also disclose that I bite my nails, I swallow my gum, and have an annoying tone to my voice. I also sweat way more than the average woman, stink at sports, and am clumsy and uncoordinated. I love to sing, but am a horrible singer. I'm a mediocre cook and horrible at baking. There, that feels better.
100. At the age of 35, I still don't know what I want to be when I "grow up".

The Sacrifice Is Worth It

Nearly three and a half years ago, we made the decision to become a single-income family. While we were previously living a life that required every penny of our two incomes, there was no choice in the matter. I had to let other people care for and raise Jenna while I went to work each day caring for and helping to raise other peoples' children as a teacher. It was purely financial, it was cruel irony, and it broke my heart nearly every day. All I hoped for back then was a choice. To be able to stay home, if I wanted, and know that we could make it. The sacrifice would be worth it.

My last day of work was the day Kara was born. Today Kara is three years and four months and two days old, and I have been at home with her every day of her life (and also Jack's 16 months and two weeks of life). These 40 months of my life have changed my life in ways I can't even begin to describe. I've had many, many ups and just as many downs . . . days where I love being at home, days when I question whether or not I should return to work . . . days where I can't keep up with the pace, days where I'm bored to tears . . . days where everything goes right, days where everything goes wrong. . . days where I need to get away and be by myself, days where I feel intense loneliness despite being constantly surrounded by my children. But, even in the hard times, I have to remind myself that there is nowhere else I'd rather be. The sacrifice is worth it.

Living on one salary has put tremendous pressure on our family. Mark has had to shoulder the whole financial responsibility for the family, and I have had to get used to not being a contributor. Not that I contributed a staggering amount to our family's income, but it was something. The little bit that might make a difference. It would probably be enough to give us the opportunity to keep our credit card balances at zero, and help build up the savings. We budget every dollar, we clip coupons, we've never hired a babysitter. We can't afford memberships to museums, tickets to events, or vacations. We haven't been able to buy a new car, do home improvement jobs that we want to, or shop for luxury items. Mark and I rarely, if ever, get to go out on dates, buy new clothes, or give each other gifts for holidays. Buying Christmas gifts and back-to-school supplies has become difficult, and can never be done without making major sacrifices in other areas of our life. And I don't mean skipping a manicure here or a shopping spree there. I mean deciding whether to buy toilet paper or paper towels this week, depending on which one we really need more. But, the sacrifice is worth it.

Over the last few years, I have met lots and lots of families with a stay-at-home parent. I often times find myself envying their financial comfort. I watch people remodel their homes, go on vacations, enroll their kids in expensive classes, buy memberships to museums and zoos. I wonder how it is they are able to afford it and, more importantly, why we aren't. At those times, I have to remember that there are other people looking at us, and envying the fact that I can stay at home. Not everyone has that luxury. I was there before, and I know how that feels. To just want the choice.

Lately I have been able to think back to my own childhood, to the days when my mom was home with us day in and day out. I can't recall any specifics of the activities that filled our days. I'm sure we went to zoos and I know we took vacations. But I really can't remember them. What I can remember is my mom always being there, day in and day out. I can remember the intense bond I had with her, and the feeling that my dad was our breadwinner and protector. I remember my childhood as carefree, fun, and comfortable. I can only hope that the sacrifices Mark and I make today will leave the same lasting impression on our children. I hope that they will never remember the sacrifices we made, but will instead be left with the feeling that it was worth it.

The zoo, zoo, zoo

"We're goin' to the zoo, zoo, zoo . . . how about you, you, you? You can come too, too, too . . . we're goin' to the zoo, zoo, zoo!" (song taken from the children's book, Going To The Zoo -- required singing on the way to any zoo, any time, any place!)

Yesterday we took our first trip to Bloomington's Miller Park Zoo. I quickly discovered that I may, in fact, be a snob. I couldn't help but compare this city's version of a "zoo" to the one that we had grown accustomed to in Milwaukee. No giraffes, no elephants, no lions . . . not even a primate weighing any more than 10 pounds. I was slightly disappointed, but I had to remember that this trip was for the kids . . . and they were completely oblivious to the lack of large mammals at this zoo. They loved looking at the tortoises, snakes, birds, lizards and other small creatures. Jenna's favorite was the red panda (which looks rather like a raccoon) and the baby goat. Kara was partial to the bear we saw, probably in honor of daddy who once said the bear was his favorite animal at the zoo.

This was Jack's first time visiting a zoo since reaching the age where he can actually pay attention and see the animals around him. I always love that first trip to the zoo at this age. It's so fun to watch their faces when they catch sight of what is in the cage, and to hear him babbling and see him pointing wildly at the animals inside.

There was a petting zoo there, and the absolute highlight of my trip was watching Jack interact with the animals in the petting farm. He squatted down and snorted and squealed at the large pig lying in the shade. When said pig decided to squeal back to Jack, get up and approach him, Jack's reaction was priceless:

Jenna and Kara were taken by the baby goat and the female goat that was expecting to deliver a baby/babies any day now!

We ended our day with Jenna and Kara taking a ride on the carousel. This was the first time when, confronted with a ride without mommy, Kara jumped at the chance and literally hopped right on. What a big girl!

The upside of this zoo is the fact that we were able to see everything there, eat a picnic lunch, ride the carousel, visit the petting zoo and be back in our cars and on the way home in three hours flat. Try doing that at Milwaukee County Zoo : )

We've been to the zoo, zoo, zoo . . .

Family Reunion

Recently Jenna has begun asking questions. Deep, insightful questions about Jesus, God and our faith. I'm sure it probably has a lot to do with her Bible School attendance this summer, but also something to do with the natural, inquisitive nature of a 5 year-old. As her parent, and as the first-time parent of a 5 year-old, I am beginning a whole new chapter in my life as well. I firmly believe that a parent is a child's first teacher, but at times like these I just feel incompetent, ill-prepared, and not at all ready for the job that lies ahead.

One thing that Jenna has been questioning is what happens when a person dies. Gone are the days where she'll accept my simple response, "They go to heaven". She knows that, but she wants to know what happens to the actual person. The body. Do you stop breathing? Do your eyes stay open or do they close? Do you wear clothes when you're dead? Do they bury you in the ground? (that last one surprised me . . . I have no idea where she learned that tidbit of information, but I'm guessing it might be her cousin Luke . . . who apparently also informed her that sometimes people die with their eyes open).


I decided that since death is one of the natural, inevitable things that a child will have to deal with in his/her lifetime, the best thing I can do is teach my children about death. So that they have a better grasp on what it means, both physically and spiritually, and what the chain of events will be following the death of a loved one.

Yesterday morning, I took Jenna to Holy Sepulchre Cemetery. We visited the graves of all four of my grandparents, her great-grandparents, and even my maternal great-grandparents. We talked about how they died, how old they were, how old I was when it happened, etc. etc. We looked at the graves and touched the headstones. We talked about the people they were, and what I remembered best about them.

It was a teachable moment. It was a quiet, reverent, bonding moment with my daughter. It was a chance to pay my respects to four people who shaped my life in powerful ways. It was a family reunion, of sorts. And it was an opportunity to teach Jenna that death isn't something to be feared. That's the beauty of our faith in God and eternal life. Whenever I'm stuck for answers as a parent, I can always rely on my faith and the message of God's teachings for the answers.

That is, until she starts asking again about how babies are born. I'm really not ready for that one . . . and I really hope that Luke doesn't beat me to it again!

A Big, Fat Embarrassment

As I mentioned in my last post, my three darling children were visiting grandma and pa for the last couple of nights.

On Monday evening, they decided to take the darlings to get ice cream along with a couple of my dad's former co-workers and friends. Grandma went up to the counter to order the ice cream while Pa sat with his three little darling grandchildren, no doubt showing them off to his friends and beaming proudly. At that point Kara, my cherub-faced, golden-haired, bright-eyed little girl turned to one of my dad's friends, looked her in the face, and said, "You're big. And you're fat."

Ugh!

Thank God in heaven that I wasn't there to witness that. I was mortified when my mom reported the story to me the next day, and I still am. What do I do? Of course I had a long talk with Kara about being nice to people and not hurting other people's feelings (she listened to about the first 15 seconds of what I was saying, ignored the rest, and then changed the subject). It's not like I can call this lady and bring the whole thing up again, just to apologize for Kara's behavior, can I?

My mom tells me not to worry about it. As my grandmother would say, "Out of the mouths of babes". Yeah, and out of the mouths of 80 year-old women too! I can remember my grandmother embarrassing me with comments like that back when she was a full-fledged senior and said what she wanted, when she wanted.

At the end of the whole conversation, my mom looked at me, lowered her voice and said, "Well, you know, the lady was wearing shorts, and she probably shouldn't have been."

Hmmmm. . . . apparently the apple fell from the tree, bounced right over me, and hit my cherub-faced, golden-haired, bright-eyed little girl smack in the face.

Time Alone With Toys

Right now I should be taking a shower, packing up my overnight bag, loading up the dog, and heading up to my parents' house. But I just can't seem to get motivated to leave the peace and quiet of my home. You see, for the last glorious 48 hours, ALL THREE of my darling children have been visiting grandma and pa! Today is the day I go to pick them up. I miss them, of course, and can't wait to see them, of course . . . but I have never enjoyed time away from them as much as I have for the past two days.

When grandma made the offer to meet up with us Sunday after church and take the kids home with them, my heart skipped a beat. This was the day I was waiting for! The day I have dreamed of for months where I would have all of the time in the world to do all of the things I lament about not being able to do with my children. Places I would go, stores I would check out, restaurants I would try, books I would read, projects I would accomplish. I spent Saturday night in a restless battle for sleep, with my mind mulling over all of the possibilities.

Sunday, after dropping the kids off, Mark and I took the long, scenic ride down Rt. 66 back home. I use the word scenic lightly, because like the rest of central Illinois, all there is to see is corn and soybeans. But it was nice to take a drive on a beautiful summer day, and not have to listen to "Max and Ruby" on the DVD player in the background.

Sunday afternoon and evening were lazy, and about the only thing I accomplished was going out to dinner with Mark. That was nice too, because we got to try out a restaurant that I've wanted to go to, without the kids. I got to order what I wanted (and not worry about choosing something I could share with Jack), we didn't have to rearrange the table settings, pick things up off the floor, cut anyone else's food, bring anyone to the bathroom, or give constant reminders to one another to eat. We just sat there, in glorious silence. It made me think about all of the times in the past where I've observed couples having dinner together that didn't seem to be talking at all. It always made me kind of sad to see two people sitting together, but having nothing to say to one another or not having the desire to communicate. Now I realize those poor, lonely people might have actually just been enjoying a meal out without their children!

Monday was a full day off, and full of possibilities. Sadly, I couldn't settle on a good idea, so instead I tackled the chore of unpacking some of the boxes in the basement, getting some things together for a garage sale, and rotating out the massive amounts of toys that my children have. Not a glamorous way to spend the day, but it was quiet. And I got to toss out whatever I wanted, put things where I wanted, and sort and clean to my heart's content. Each of my children will come home to new toys in their bedrooms today, new things to play with in the family room and playroom, and even a few unopened toys still in boxes from last Christmas!

Thanks grandma and pa for giving me a few days worth of peace and quiet. I'll get going now, so that I can get to your house and return your lives to normal as quickly as possible. When we're gone tomorrow, and peace and quiet have returned to your house, I'll bet you find a little part of yourself yearning for the sounds of Max and Ruby (and Jenna, Kara, and Jack). I know I have!

08.08.08

So much fuss has been made about today's "magical" date, that I just felt the need to post today. It's funny because I can vividly remember the same fuss being made last year over 07-07-07, and for the previous year's 06-06-06, and the year before that. . . all of the way back to good old 01/01/01. Hmmm. They're nice dates and all, but nothing will really top 9/9/99 in my book. That was the date that your dad and I got engaged!

I look forward to

09-09-09

10-10-10

11-11-11

and

12-12-12.

That should be it, right?

17 Days

Saturday was an uneventful, quiet day at home. Yard work, house cleaning, laundry, and some fun in the sun. Daddy figured out to blow up the behemoth pool that grandma and pa gave to us, and Kara and Jenna enjoyed some swimming time in the yard. Jack, not so much. Still not a big fan of water or getting wet!

Late Saturday afternoon, mommy went to check the mail, and the contents of that little box at the end of the driveway put my life into a tailspin. No, it wasn't anything as good as winning a million dollars from Publishers Clearinghouse . . . nothing as bad as a jury duty summons, tax bill, or a collection notice. It was a seemingly innocuous envelope from the school district where Jenna will be attending kindergarten in the fall.

Curious, I opened it. All I had to see was the title of the contents to send my heart racing and my palms sweating: school bus route and schedule. The good people at the school district's transportation office have taken the time to plan, schedule, map out and create the bus schedule for fall. I had expected the information's arrival in "early August", but hadn't really thought about it and certainly didn't realize the impact it was going to have on me.

The paper figuratively leaped out of the envelope and smacked me right in the face. My baby girl is getting ever-closer to the day when she'll become a kindergartner. The beginning of her life as a student . . . the beginning of mommy and daddy sending her out into the world on her own. On a bus. By herself. With about 80 other kids. The beginning of mommy spending her days without her little side-kick in tow.

Sure I knew this day was fast-approaching. We've begun "back-to-school" shopping for clothes, shoes and school supplies last month. We've bought and read no less than three books about the first days of kindergarten. Jenna has been talking about this day for months. I have all of the information that I was given at registration day back in May in a little folder on my kitchen counter. I've been meaning to pull it out and read it over. Let me get it. See, right here. It says that the first day of kindergarten will be . . . hold it . . .

August 20th?!

This month?! What happened to starting school after Labor Day? August 20th is just 17 days away. 17 days?! That's not nearly enough time. I still have so much to do . . . so much to see . . . so much to experience with my baby before she begins school. I've heard other mommies lament over their children starting school. There being so much that they wanted to do and didn't . . . so much time that they wanted to get back but couldn't . . . I swore that I wouldn't let that happen to me. To us. We were connected at the hip and had nothing but sweet time on our hands because I'm a stay-at-home mommy now, and my job is to spend every precious moment of life with my children.

Surely this can't be happening to me.

All I can say is, fasten your seat belt Jenna. This is going to be the busiest 17 days of your life: the zoo, the beach, the pool, wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do. Just be sure to bring along some Kleenex for mama . . . she's going to have a tough 17 days.