Leprechauns are NOT real!

The conversation in the minivan on the way home today went something like this:

Anna: "...and then the leprechaun left DINOSAURS on my chair and he gave us suckers and sunglasses and...(more and more and oh so much about leprechauns!)"

Me: "What a fun day! It's nice that your teachers work so hard to make your day fun."

Anna: "The teachers didn't do it, the leprechaun did."

Me: "But you know that leprechauns aren't real - they're just pretend."

Anna: "Come on! Are you crazy? Miss Sandy found a real live one upstairs. He was so little. You've gotta be kidding me."

The last part is word-for-word - it really struck me. Not just because my almost 4 year old was sounding like a pre-teen, but because my daughter comes from a family that does not do Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. We celebrate those occassions, just without the mythical figures. I didn't even realize that Leprechauns were an integral part of St. Patrick's Day. But here she is, thinking that I am the one telling her stories, trying to make her believe that something that was so fun is not true. It really bugged her. She's asked me twice since we got home to confirm that leprechaun's really are real.

I like our daycare, but I really wish they didn't put me in these awkward situations where I have to choose between lying to my daughter and breaking her heart.

What does this say about me?

What kind of mother would leave her baby's arm stuck in a bus, just to catch a cute picture? After several minutes (and several photos), we were able to free his hand. I'm not a monster.

It's the Little Things...

I know it's trite, but it really is the little things that make a person's day. Like waking up to a sandwich snuggle in the morning, with a soft warm face on each cheek and their sweet, moist breath mingling beneath your nose. A smile from someone who hasn't seen you in a week and actually missed you! And little love notes scrawled on a white board by someone who can't wait to share their newfound skill with you.

So that's why I haven't posted in a while. Been a little busy. :)

What am I teaching her?

My daughter has the most beautiful hair. Women pay bundles to get highlights and color like hers. It's primarily blond - with light auburn layers underneath, strawberry blond over that and topped with bleached blond highlights throughout. It is thick and long and baby fine - like silk. She loves her hair. I've recently tried to convince her to let me cut an inch or two off - to just below the bottom of her shoulder blades - so it would tangle a little less. No dice. Then we took the boys for haircuts and she asked to have hers cut, too. Her bangs were in her eyes, so why not? It would save me a little frustration at home - I can buzz the boys, but I always cut her bangs so blunt. Why not let the professionals? She butchered my baby's hair! She cut at least an inch of her bangs. They went from being in her eyes to a half inch above her eyebrows. But only in spots. Some are still below her brows. And the back! It looks like another kid in daycare got the scissors and went to town.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm a little upset. At times, I feel like crying about it. But then it hit me - what am I teaching her to let her see me like this? It's just hair. It has no real value. Do I want her to find worth in what she looks like or in how she treats other and serves the Lord? Do I want her to be prideful or humble? Rushing her in the next day to insist that they do what they can to fix it wouldn't send the right message, but I want nothing more. Hopefully I handle things better when we get to the really big stuff!

But just so you don't think I'm over-reacting...



Her poor bangs!

So Much to Say...

It seems like there is so much to post about today. Politics, cloned animals entering our food supply, gardening update, but what has had the most personal impact on me today was the first day of my family's transition week. Adam started 3rd grade, Matthew had his kindergarten orientation and Anna had her first (albeit brief) experience at daycare. Each day from here on out will be a little more letting go as I transition back to work. Although really, every day from the day they were born has been a period of gradually letting go. But I don't think I'm alone in feeling that sending the child off to school is one of the more significant events. And going off to work means leaving them in their dad's hands in the morning. Sure, he's perfectly capable, but he isn't me! I just pray that this adjustment goes smoothly for us all. (You can pray for us, too!)

Adam was so excited to get on the bus and head off to be with his friends. School is just one big social event to him, and he has been missing it. Even though I'm used to sending him off and am confident that he will be safe and will be of good character, it still falls short of being easy to watch him step on that bus and take off.

Tomorrow I have to send Matthew off on the bus to be in someone else's hands. For 7 hours. It would be easier if he didn't still seem so fragile. It's not just his physical frailty (I almost wept when he put on his new sneakers today - his little toothpick legs looked even more so with clunky shoes on instead of the barely there sandals) or his emotional/sensory issues. I also worry about whether he will have the character to withstand all that the world throws at him. Will he make good choices? Will the teachers and aides protect him and guide him as I would hope? He had his hour orientation today and couldn't get out of there fast enough. He was withdrawn and eyeing potential hidey-holes the entire time. Every now and then looking a little further out to find activities in which he can immerse himself, but still withdraw. He had done so well in pre-K last year, but it just seemed to be a bit too much for him today. His teacher and I both said that he'll be fine, but it seemed that we were both trying to convince ourselves as much as the other. Not what I expected of the day at all.

Anna absolutely loved "school", as she calls daycare. She was there for 3 hours and did not want to leave, crying when I got there that she hadn't gotten to take her nap yet. She is still so young, still forming so much of her character. I worry about the guidance that she will receive, but prayed in earnest for guidance for myself for the choices that I made for her. I think this was God's will for her, and I have to trust that I made the right choice in whose hands to leave her.

But then, I'm not really putting them in the teachers' hands. I have to remember that I have placed them in God's hands. God who never really gave them completely to me, is only allowing me the privilege of serving Him by raising my children to be a servants after His own heart. Surely He will protect my little ones...but it's sometimes hard to see that through the tears.

The Countdown is On

One week from today, the kids start their school year. They are all excited. Very excited. I have to admit, I'm excited as well, but also a little hesitant. Does my excitement make me a bad mom by today's standards? (I'll skip my soapbox on our kid-centric society for today - no thanks needed!) I feel ashamed to admit to most of my friends that I am looking forward to the kids going to school. I'm especially ashamed when it comes to my 3 year old daughter. I find myself feeling guilty when I read the mom articles and talk to my mom friends. There are one or two that share my feelings, but they are also reserved about admitting it in public. Now, I'm not suggesting that we all throw a parade and run down the street shouting with glee, but I do wish that it was more socially acceptable to be happy to see the school year come. I remember my mom saying (frequently by the end of August) that she couldn't wait for school to start. Now I know how she felt. But these days, I'm not supposed to want to pack them off on the bus. I'm supposed to want to drive them myself, both to and from school, and spend every waking minute making sure that their lives are happy and easy. I just don't have either the energy or the belief that is in their best interests.

I AM going to miss the lazy days spent in the sunshine and having my babies all to myself. But let's be honest - they are getting bored with me and their siblings. They crave both the social opportunities and the stimulation. And Matthew is in dire need of occupational therapies that are beyond my limited abilities. I am going to enjoy sending them off to school, missing them during the day and getting those hugs and the the run-down of their days when they get off the bus or I pick them up from daycare. I might not be the best mom, but I think that for my kids, I'm doing OK.

Wasted Time

As I was standing outside this evening, watching my dear husband running around behind Matthew's bike, his hands on either side of his abdomen, sometimes righting his balance, sometimes helping to propel him forward and keep him moving, a thought entered my mind. "I should go inside instead of wasting time out here. What a wasted evening." You see, we were outside waiting for someone to come look at a desk we are trying to give away. They came, they saw, they left empty handed. And now we were spending a few more minutes helping the kids ride their bikes and scooters. Matthew wasn't going to master his two-wheeler tonight. I wouldn't be missing anything and I had so much laundry to fold, or I could log into work. I have 18 more hours to do for the week and only 4 days left to do it. As soon as I completed that thought process, though, all the small groups from the past 3 years came back to me. This time is precious - this time with my family, making them a priority. No time spent in this manner is ever "wasted" time. So, I leaned back on my husband's car and watched him get an aching back bending over Matthew. I encouraged Adam to ride faster and turn tighter. I listened to Anna ring her "very favorite" bike bell. I put all of my to do's out of my mind for just a minute to focus on what really matters. Too bad they're all in bed, now I have no choice but to log into work.

The End of an Era

OK, so that might be a little overly dramatic, but it's how I feel at the moment. Four years ago...is four years long enough to be considered an era? Perhaps if those years were BIG enough... Four years ago, I found myself leaving a job that was both challenging and satisfying to stay home with my children. I did so with some reluctance, but knowing that it was the Lord's will for my life at that time. My reluctance was gradually replaced with the joy I found in what is, for now at least, my most important role - Mom. These past four years have been very formative, not just for the four children under my care, but also for me. Almost a second "university" of sorts. The need to provide my children with a well-rounded social environment required me to break out of my shell and find a more social part of myself that I hadn't known was there. I didn't expect to learn so much about how to be a better wife, better friend and better steward during this period dedicated to being a full-time mom. I think that I will always look back on these years as being just as influential as my college years.

Now I once again find myself on the verge of a change, brought on by children growing and changes at work. Again, I am reluctant, although excited. I have missed the challenge and stimulation of my work, yet I will miss this period of my life. I'm excited for what lies ahead, but not ready to bid farewell to this...bliss. If only I could prevent the children from growing...for just a little longer.