September 2008

On a beautiful fall day, our family took a mini-roadtrip to Champaign, Illinois. We spent a few hours at Curtis Orchard picking apples and enjoying some fall activities. You couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day weather-wise, and the kids had a blast picking apples in the orchard.

Jenna used the apple plucker for better results, and Jack needed a boost from daddy to reach the apples.

Jenna was the only one brave enough to take a ride on the pony, but all three kids were willing to ham it up for a pose in the school bus.

Chess Stress

Okay Jenna, I'm going to let you in on a little secret here. Mommy doesn't know everything. Shocking, I know, but true. Case in point: chess. Never played it, never learned anything about it. Don't know even the basics of the game, or what the pieces are called.

Recently you decided that you would like to take part in your school's chess club. That's right, chess. For kindergartners. Daddy and I were amused at the idea and a bit curious, so today I attended the parent sign-up meeting with you after school.

At the meeting, we ran into our across-the-street neighbors who also have a daughter in the chess club. They assured me that the club was great, and you would get a great introduction to the game. I began wondering if I could possibly be a part of the club too, just to learn!

Once we got home, said neighbors came across the street with gifts to bear: an instructional book on how to play chess, written at a level that you (and possibly mommy) can understand . . . and an instructional chess board with the rows and columns labeled. (See, I've already forgotten the actual name for those rows and columns on a chess board.)

Anyway, once we got in the door, you settled right into the couch and began reading the chess manual. Reading it. Not looking at the pictures, but reading the instructions. When I finally convinced you to act your age and go play for a while, I began paging through the book. I learned the names of the pieces, where they go on the board, and what directions each can move. Simple enough. But each page gave me some more new terminology, new rules, and new pointers. Each page I turned erased in my mind what I had just read. No retention at all.

It reminds me of the time I went to a Craps lesson in Vegas. I'd always wanted to learn the game because that is where all of the hootin' and hollerin' take place in a casino. About 10 minutes into the lesson, I realized that there were more rules and exceptions to the game than my tiny little mind could contain. Suddenly the flashing lights and noises around me became distracting, and I found myself wandering away from the class towards the big spinning Wheel of Fortune game. I have the attention span of a gnat, you see.

Anyway, reading our new book, I learned words like "checkmate" and "mate" and "draw" and now (about 4 hours later) have no idea what they mean. I also can no longer recall the directions the pieces can move in or where they start on the board.

I'm going to be of no help to you at all. I keep telling you we can learn together, but in all honesty, I'm just going to drag you down. All I can hope for is that it all begins to make sense to me . . . when you teach me.

Wasn't I just teaching you how to play checkers?!

We're entering a whole new phase in your life. This will mark the beginning of the time you will look back on in years to come. You'll remember this as the first time you began to realize that mommy doesn't know everything, and it's all downhill from here. Just wait until you progress past 2nd grade math.

I'm stressed. About chess. Yep, total chess stress.

"Creation", Kara's way . . .

To say that life with you is an adventure is an understatement. More like an adventure where I never know where I'm going, how I'm going to get there or how long it's going to take. Oh, and once I'm there, I never know how long I'll be staying, if at all!

Early this month, you started preschool. I was so proud of the way you handled those first days being dropped off at school. You didn't bat an eye when I said goodbye, and were all smiles at the end of the day. Well, at least the first day.

On day two you refused to eat a snack. Let me say that again: YOU refused. To EAT. A SNACK no less. I was mystified when your teacher reported this little fact to me at the end of class, but when I heard what the snack was, I was flabbergasted. Ice cream and cookies for your friend Kayla's birthday! Why on earth would you decide to rebel against a snack that normally would turn you into a ravenous little vulture? I mean, come on! I've seen you use your spoon like a razor blade to scrape every little last bit out of your ice cream bowl in the past! Your answer? Simple. "I wanted goldfish and juice like we had last time."

You know what you want. . . and now you're going to learn a tough life lesson: you don't ALWAYS get what you want little girl!

On day three you refused to paint on the easel. That's right, you, the girl who asks to paint at home on an almost daily basis, refused to paint. When all of your classmates came running out the door with their paintings in hand, you came out last with your teacher by your side. When she told me that you decided not to paint, I curiously asked why. Simple. "I wanted to do Play dough".

I'm beginning to sense a pattern here! I repeat: You don't ALWAYS get what you want little girl!

On day four and day five, you began the day with tearful goodbyes for mommy. Crying, screaming, and begging me not to leave. Running out the door after me, chasing me down the hallway. My heart was breaking, and I was about to declare you a preschool drop-out. But on day six, drop off went smoothly. When I dropped you off you said, "bye bye mommy!" in the sweetest little voice. When you chased me to the door, it was only to remind me that I forgot to give you a hug. Skeptical, I left. I kept my cell phone in my pocket, just waiting for your school to call me back. They didn't. When I went to pick you up, you came out of class last and again, your teacher was by your side. With a great big smile I greeted you and told you how proud I was of you. I looked up at your teacher for confirmation that this had indeed been a good day. It was then that she told me that you refused to pose for school pictures. Why? "Because I didn't want to do it."

So, on the sixth day, she got what she wanted.

Today was day seven . . . no news or issues to report. Apparently you also rest on the seventh day.

Word Search

My baby boy is now 17 months old! Let me just say my obligatory "where has the time gone?" phrase right now. Seriously. I've been down this road three times now, so you'd think I'd no longer be surprised at how fast it goes . . . but silly me, I'm still surprised!

Along with this age comes one of my favorite developmental stages. No, not the ability to climb and leap off of objects both living and non-living. Language development! Maybe it's my background in speech and language or early childhood, but I continue to be amazed at language acquisition at this age. Again, I've been down this road three times, but I'm still surprised!

Jenna was talking by age one, and by a year and a half was communicating in full sentences. Kara was about the same. Very advanced in their language skills, and very proficient at amazing strangers in the grocery store when their tiny little bodies would produce full sentences like, "Mommy, are we done shopping now? Is it time to go home?".

Jack is more of a traditionalist. He's sticking to the expected parameters of language development . . . a few beginning words around age one, a few more real words by one and a half. I have to keep reminding myself that he is on track for normal development, just not as chatty as his big sisters.

A sampling of the sounds/phrases/words in his current repertoire:

mama
dada
gama (grandma)
Pa
yes
uh-uh (no)
bye-bye
uh-oh
oh-no
nigh-nigh (night-night)
down
bup (cup)
boop (book)
woof (dog)

animal noises: baaaa, moo, quack, roar, oink (snort), neigh, woof, meow

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Last night, at about 3 a.m., I was awoken by Jenna repeating, "mom, mom, mom, mom" urgently in my ear and tapping me on the arm.

When I came to and asked her what was going on, I noticed that her lower lip was quivering. She told me that she had a bad dream about Kara going to jail.

I got up, walked her into the bathroom, and asked what the dream was about.

In a teary voice, Jenna said:

"Kara was at school with me. In my class. Only Mrs. Z wasn't there. It was a guest teacher. And Kara was being really, really loud, so the teacher called the police. They took Kara to jail."

I hid my smile as I assured her that Kara was alive and well, sleeping in the next room. It was just a bad dream. Or is the word premonition?

To My Baby Girl, On Her First Day of Preschool

My dearest Kara,

Today my baby girl became a big girl . . . you started preschool!

We've talked about it for so long, you've been looking forward to making your own friends, and today was the day.

You woke up excited, counted down the minutes until it was time to leave, and even let me take a few pictures of you (which is a big deal because, usually, you hate being in pictures).

You wore a pretty pink dress and your new white sandals, and a smile from ear-to-ear.

I have to admit, I was nervous about how the drop-off would go. I worried that you might cry, or hang on mommy's leg and beg me not to leave. But you didn't! You walked into that room, put on your name tag, washed your hands, and disappeared into the crowd without so much as a goodbye kiss for mommy.

I stood in the classroom for a couple of minutes, just watching you. You were already interacting with the other kids and teachers in the dress-up corner, and didn't even take a peek back to see if I was still there. I took a few more photos of you in action.

I stood at the doorway for a minute, just in case you needed me. You didn't.

I left but stuck around outside, peeking in your window from time-to-time to make sure you weren't crying or sad or afraid. You weren't. During my first peek, you were busy gluing and pasting your little heart out. My second peek let me see you enjoying your snack.

In so many ways you are so very different from your big sister. I've worried and cried on Jenna's first day of everything in her life. Today, I didn't shed a tear. It's not because I've been through it all before or because I'm not sad to see you growing up . . . it's because I know that you're a tough little cookie, and you'll be okay.

I'm so very proud of what a big girl you were on your first day of school. I just know that preschool is going to be great for you. You're going to learn so many new things, meet so many new friends, and get to be a part of something that is just for you . . . not Jenna or Jack!

But, you want to know what else is just for you? Mommy's love. I might love your sister and brother too, but I never, ever share that special love in my heart that is just for you baby girl.

Lots of love,
Mommy