Friday, August 21, 2009

There's a Kindergartener Among Us

I don't know how this happened. I went to bed one night after tucking my newborn in the pack-n-play 2 feet from my bed, and I woke-up the next morning having to walk down the hall to get a 3-foot 9 1/2-inch 5 -year-old out of her full-size bed. She's groggy. I'm awake but still a little confused. What happened to that little bundle of sweetness who had just a little sprinkling of peach fuzz on her head? She now has long, beautiful blonde hair. Her eyes are the same, but everything else has changed. I look at her in awe as she stretches and rolls over to put her feet on the floor. She smiles and starts her dialog about what the day is going to bring. I snap out of my fog as I chase her down the steps giving her directions in step-by-step format for getting ready for her first "full" day of kindergarten. Of course, she only hears about 1/3 of what I say, so I start repeating at a rapid rate. "Hurry. We need to be on-time." I run up the stairs to pluck her siblings from their warm beds. One of them is happy to be starting his first day at his new school, while the other glares at me through watery eyes that are saying "You will pay for this later". And, I did, as she cried for 30 minutes when I put her down for her morning nap. I come back down the stairs and continue to look a my first-born. She's happy. She's excited. She can hardly eat because there is a class and teacher waiting for her arrival, and she doesn't want to disappoint. A warm tingly feeling comes over me. Tears come to my eyes. My throat has a relentless lump in it. My stomach starts to knot-up. I go back and forth in my mind all of the reasons I shouldn't be crying. . . then all of the reasons I should be. Suddenly I look at the clock and realize I should have been out the door two minutes earlier. I shake off my rush of emotions and yell for the kids to "get in and buckle". We race down the driveway and are off to school. Nolan talks about how well he's going to do when I drop him off. He was right. Landry sits in her seat with her headphones on, bopping along to Alvin and the Chipmunks. She has a perma-grin. There's no wiping that smile off . She's on cloud 9. Loving life. Things just couldn't be better. I drop them off into the hands of a stranger. I beat him up with a couple of questions. I give him the look that says "My children are in you hands. Don't mess this up." I "ask" if someone will be walking them to their classrooms. He says they will if I would like. Well, of course I "would like". He takes each child by the hand and escorts them into the front door. I sit there staring. They are happy. They are elated. They are beaming. They are big. I am crushed. Not in the way that breaks your heart, but in the way that holds you under a sentimental grasp for quite some time. That little baby is now a little lady. And I couldn't be more proud.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

July Kids Say. . .

I am such a slacker! I have skipped the past couple of months on my "kids say" posts. So, here are the three I remember from July.

We have a black aluminum fence in our back yard. Every morning we sit at the breakfast table and look out into our back yard and see what's going on back there. Most of the time we see our two dogs, some toys left out from the night before, and several birds depleting the bird feeder at a rapid rate. One morning Nolan looked out the window to find the gate of our fence COVERED in bird poop. Our black fence was now a white fence. It was completely covered!

Nolan: "There is bird poop everywhere!!!"
Landry: "Yeah, isn't that amazing? It's like they decorated our fence for us."
Nolan: "Yeah, it's nice of them to do that. I love birds."


When I was pregnant with Corinne, Landry frequently asked how we got that baby. Since I am saving the birds and bees talk for. . . well. . . never, I told her that we prayed for God to give us a baby. Of course, we prayed for the baby from the day I found out I was pregnant (surprise!) and every day after that. Every time we prayed with the kids, we would pray for our new brother or sister. Still, Landry was pretty relentless in her questions. She wanted to know how the baby got in there, and most of all, how bad was it going to hurt to get that baby out of there? She vividly remembered my c-section incision from having Nolan. She was quite obsessed with it for a while. After Corinne was born, she was just mortified at the whole process. The IV's, the blood pressure checks, the shots, and, of course, the freshly glued incision.
So, one night in July after Brian read Landry her Bible story, Landry looked at me and said "Why did you marry Daddy?" I told her that we were friends and that we loved each other and that we wanted to be married. It was a very quick answer due to the fact that it was way past bed time. The following conversation is what came next.

Landry: "Okay. I'm friends with Four. I like him. He loves me. So, I'm going to marry him."

Me: "Well, you never know. You have a long time before you will be getting married. You might meet someone else that you want to marry."

Landry: "Oh, no. I AM marrying Four."

Me: "Okay. Time to go to sleep. I love you." I start to walk out of the door and Landry sits up.

Landry: "Mom?" Long pause. "Now that I know who I'm going to marry, when do I start praying for God to NOT bring me a baby?"


In keeping with the above story, Landry has told me several times that she doesn't want to have children. I told her she may change her mind. I've also told her that I would really like to be a grandma someday. So, now she has decided that she will adopt a baby. The other night I was braiding Landry's hair while it was still wet so she could have wavy hair the next day.

Landry: "When you adopt a baby, do you get it for free or do you pay money for it?"

Me: "You pay. A lot."

Landry: "Well, I'm going to pay for a girl baby so I can braid her hair. I'm going to have a daughter. She's going to say 'Mama, you're the best hair briader'. That's the kind of little girl I'm going to adopt. Then I'm going to tell her that I'm so good at it because my mom braided my hair when I was little."

I think that was her way of telling me that she appreciates that I braid her hair. It's a round-about way, but I got the picture. :)