On Thursday I took Little L for her 3 year check-up. This is the first of the “big girl” check-ups. The one without the baby scale and tape measure. She stepped on the scale and stood up straight and tall to let the nurse measure her. The results astounded me. She however was completely unfazed and went on to ace her eye exam. She skipped off to the exam room where she charmed the socks off the doctor. One no-shot-today happy dance later and we were out of there, medical record sheet for the school in hand.
As I buckled Little L into her car seat I marveled at how big she’s gotten. She was talking a mile a minute and for a moment I couldn’t see even a glimmer of the baby she used to be.
Her big girl status isn’t just being tested by the doctor’s office; she starts preschool tomorrow. In the morning I’ll pack a change of clothes and some diapers into her brand new Dora backpack and I’ll walk her into her classroom. Tomorrow I get to spend the morning with her, but Thursday I’ll have to leave her at the door. I’ll be leaving her with teachers I don’t yet know, but who come highly recommended by people I do know and trust. She already has a friend in the class, and knowing her she’ll have ten more by the end of the week.
You’d think I’d weep as I walk away. But I really don’t think I will.
This is going to be an amazing thing for my baby, the one who is already rhyming and learning her letters. She’s going to be on her own there, not in her sister’s shadow, and she is going to shine. I see glimpses of the preschooler in her when I watch her do crafts – cutting things out with intense concentration. Or when I hear her starting to stand up to her rather bossy older sister, insisting that the game go the way she wants it to for once. And I know that preschool is going to be great for her because it’s going to allow her to hone all those skills and develop new ones.
On Thursday she measured a whopping 38 3/4 inches tall -that’s a full 2 inches and a quarter taller than her sister was at that age – physical proof that I’m not kidding when I tell my friends that my baby is a monster. Or rather, as the doctor put it, that she looks like a 4-year-old and it’s a good thing she speaks and acts like one too.
So, yes, my baby hasn’t really been a baby for a while. She’s not even a toddler anymore. Tomorrow morning she’ll officially become a preschooler and while I’m sad to say goodbye to our infant years, I’m not worried about her in the least. On Thursday when the doors close, I’m going to walk away knowing that she’s good and ready for this transition.
Whether I’ll ever be ready to stop calling her Little L is a whole other question.
I showed up right on time for my snow day yard duties and dashed back out to the car to grab my camera. I had expected something neat, but what greeted me was cooler than I anticipated. An entire play yard covered in snow. The sun shining overhead. And a group of parents, waiting to make the afternoon magical.
The kids all traipsed out, a motley crew in an assortment of winter wear – from the fully kitted out in snow gear to the ones, like C, outfitted in whatever their parents could piece together at the last minute. The joy on their faces was the same though. Sheer delight and instant recognition.
“Snow!” Some whispered, while the rest just dove in.
Snow angels, snow balls, and non stop sledding filled the 25 minutes each class was allotted. I stood at the top of the sled run, helping kids climb into sled after sled after sled. Their smiles and shrieks of delight eased the increasing kinks in my back.
A great time was had by all and the two hours I worked in the yard passed in a flash. I highly doubt that the soreness in my muscles will ease quite as fast. When I woke up this morning I didn’t exactly expect to be shoveling show and pushing kids down sled runs for two hours.
I’ll let you know tomorrow if it was worth it.
I found the gloves in the deep recesses of one of the suitcases we took to Ohio. The hat was shoved under a pile of outgrown clothes in the corner of the kids’ room. And I’m hoping that her snow jacket is somewhere in my car.
Tomorrow C has a snow day. Oh, not like the snow day that countless kids in the North East are having tomorrow. No, we do snow days differently out here. We don’t have to shovel the drive, salt the roads, or plan countless indoor activities for home bound kids.
Instead, on snow day we go to school and play in the snow.
That’s right. Tomorrow C’s preschool is bringing in snow for the kids to play in. For a glorious couple of hours they’ll get to roll around in the snow making snow angels, have snowball fights, and build snow men. Once they’ve had their fill of playing in the snow, they’ll go back to class to get changed into warm dry clothes and have hot cocoa with mini marshmallows. Because you can’t have a snow day without hot cocoa.
Then I’ll pick her up and take her home. And I’ll let the snow clothes get lost once again. Because really? We’re not going to need them again until next December when we head East for Christmas.
You have to love living in California sometimes.
Yesterday I attended the second of the mom events at the fabulous new preschool. I figured that since the first event had been so awesome I was in for a treat. Plus, it was about adding a little organization to our lives and let’s just say that that’s something I could use a
little lot of.
OK. A LOT of.
I felt pretty confident as the talk started. I’ve tried over the years to inject a little organization into our lives. I sorted out the whole laundry thing and organized some of the cupboards. But apparently I barely made a dent.
Rumor has it that the state of my closets puts me right in the “pretty lacking in the organization department.” (You can spot one of my closets and what happened to the laundry room in pictures here.) And the rest of the talk sent me into a tailspin of despair that ended with me having officially given up any hope to ever be organized. And at one point the speaker stopped looking in my direction as she valiantly plowed through her talk. I think I was upsetting her. Or maybe it was my questions that hinted at how bad things were at home. Poor woman. I hope she’s recovered.
Tip #1 was to not keep anything in our heads, but to write them down. Which would be fine, if I could ever remember where I wrote things down.
Tip #2 was to have special baskets assigned to everything. We did not, however, cover what to do when the baskets overfill and the stuff piles up around them.
Tip #3 was to have one calendar and only one calendar. Which is all fine and dandy, but they said that the big family calendar on the fridge was not the ideal solution. Sadly it’s the only solution that has ever worked for me, so I fail at that too. (Though I have been meaning to get my Cozi calendar up and running. Maybe I can finally convince M to get onto that page…)
Tip #4 was to pick up as you go so that you’re not always overwhelmed with what has to be done. What to do about the children who take out what you’ve just put away was not addressed.
But to be fair, it was not all a wash. I gleaned some ideas that might work and more than a few good tips about where to start. And, honest, once we’ve cleared some space in the garage I’m going to start clearing out some of the closets so I can get the rest of the house whipped into shape.
Or maybe I’ll buy a few bins and baskets and place them around the house strategically. It’ll look great… until they start to overflow.