first time to school as a parent volunteer

I've been looking forward to today as a Parenting First. And was even more anxious when a grinning Aidan said this yesterday on the ride home from school: "I'm so excited you get to come to my class with me tomorrow." He and Savannah then spilled the beans about a boy who was not so excited when his mom came to class. In fact, "he put his head down and wouldn't even talk to her." I hadn't thought of that possibility, so A's evident disapproval of that friend's mother-angst made me happy.  My boy isn't embarrassed of his mother.

But worry did wrinkle Aidan's brow when I walked downstairs this morning mid-hairstyling with a cascading topknot of not-yet-flat-ironed hair.

"Please don't be silly at school today, Mom."

"I'm not done fixing my hair yet, A."

 "I know. But just don't be silly."

{with more than a hint of mother-angst}

Because Kindergarten is a serious affair.

To this guy.

I'm happy to report that I had no urges to silliness during class time.  But I also must confess that beaming at my boy was a far more difficult urge to curb.  When they filed back to the desks after recess, our eyes connected and I automatically blew him a kiss...because, well,  that's what we do.  His quick head turn, however, made me curse the unplanned gesture, worrying that I had forever doomed our public relationship.  But as quickly as I doubted, his head turned back my way.  And his love outpaced his angst...evidenced by mouth corners failing to suppress an erupting smile.  A quick and secret smile.  And his eyes sparkled momentarily with the same secret.  We're connected.  Even in this room brim-full of teacher, aid and 29 peers, I am his.

And he is Mine.

spt: 100 list

I missed last week, so here’s a double post…

14. I love office supplies.

Still true. It gives me great joy to have staples, push-pins, a variety of envelopes, file folders, even empty binders on hand. Just in case. And I’m not sure it falls precisely under the definition of office supplies, but it’s no small secret amongst those who know me well that I’m desperately attached to my laminator. As in, it just might make the short list of things I’d rush to retrieve from a burning building. Having the ability to laminate at a moment’s notice brings endless delight. It makes paper, words, a picture last forever.

21. My bed is never made.

I’m having an angry day (please tell me that you have them too!). And when this item popped up as 21 on my list, I wanted to protest. Because at this precise moment my bed looks like this:

Let me point out some gruesome details. First, those pillows are caseless (and have been since the end of last week). Where are the cases?  In a stack of laundry still awaiting my attention.  It's an all-around sorry situation.  And, for clarification, the black spot in the middle is a ponytailer. And, yes,  I do realize that the fitted sheet is inching its way off the mattress.

This whole scenario would not be so frustrating had I not declared myself a changed woman eight short months ago.  I boldly eschewed my bad bed attitude last February. Remembering this, I went off to search for that post this afternoon, to read my very own "hallelujah, changed forever" words with spite. Because I’m not changed forever. And it hardly matters that I truly meant it at the time.  Because the improvement of now making my bed 50% of the time is still a solid F in nearly any grading system.

Yet.  I do love a tidy room.  With a love that wrestles deep-seated and long-held issues (of both cleaning & avoidance).

Issues are hard to reckon with on an Angry day.

Or any day.

Which leads me back to #7.  

Because I really like to laminate.

And now I'll have this "clean bed" picture for always.  Not an A+, but enough (for now!) to assuage some afternoon anger.

and so it begins

I remember the first time I dropped Aidan off at Nursery when he was 18-months-old.  It felt surreal.  My boy, my shadow, my firstborn, my child was going to have conversations, relationships, laughter, pain in which I had no part. 

Well, this morning a similar flood of emotions overtook me when we met his Kindergarten teacher.  I surveyed the room, craning to take in the maps, posters, books, blackboard that will come to fill his days...hoping desperately that he'll come home spilling stories and details.  Because I want to know who sits next to him, what he laughs at, what makes him sad, what makes him sigh.  Forever. 

Of course I won't.  We can't always own each other entirely.  But, still..

He sat at his desk today with surprising ease.  Surprising because last week's school shopping was witness to all too many worries ( "Can't I wait one more year?"). 

Luckily, his dad has a knack for assuaging trauma in us half-Hendrix humans.  I caught them mid-chat this morning.  And saw Jim's soothing words take effect.  He always tells his boys that they are powerful.  And it's true.  Tonight he gave each of them their first father's blessing.  Tonight is also the five year anniversary of our temple sealing.  I've never felt more grateful to be a part of this family..to be surrounded by these men..to have them now & Always. 

Even if the first bits of earthly separation start with Mrs. Cammack's a.m. Kindergarten tomorrow.

thoughts on a New Year

 
"It is an amazing adventure to be born upon this wandering island in the sky and it is an adventure to leave it when death calls.  To go to school, to make friends, to marry, to rear children, to face through life the swift changes of circumstance that no man can certainly predict an hour ahead, these are all adventures.  Each new day is an hitherto unvisited country, which we enter, like Abraham leaving Ur for a strange land, "not knowing whither he went" (Hebrews 11:8), and every NEW YEAR we begin a tour of exploration...where no man's foot has ever walked before.  If we all love tales of pioneers, it is because from the time we are weaned to the time we die, life is pioneering."

Harry Emerson Fosdick 

***

I'm a traditionalist, and a girl who spends far too much time thinking.  So, of course, New Years for me means contemplation.  Looking back, hoping to weigh myself wiser & stronger with the passage of so many many days.  Mostly, the changes are too subtle for my scale of expectations, though.  So I spend the bulk of the January 1st contemplation on looking forward to the new year, a fresh slate, vowing that next time I'll look back to view more obvious progress. 

 

Then (too much thinking always causes problems, mind you), I realize that the years of substantial, measurable change in my life have always been the years of substantial tragedy and tears.  And I'm not sure I want to weigh Irony into my scale of 2008.

 

So I'll look back grateful for a smooth (if uneventful) 2007.  Life is good in our world.  We stopped buying diapers, started taking the whole family to the movies (definitely a long time coming, people!), forgot what life is like without DVR, discovered the joy of more kitchen time together.  Simple times, perhaps. 

 

Our existence is home and littles-centered.  And I know it's not in "Now" that this stage is most enjoyed.  The routine and tears often outweigh the spontaneity and laughter.  But I also know that I'll inevitably look back on this time as golden days of ease & Us. 

 

So bring it on, 2008.  A little pioneering, a little adventure (and a hint of Irony for good measure, perhaps), but mostly a whole lot more of Us that I will weigh far. far more accurately in the years & years to come.  

 

my anniversary

As of today, I have been blogging for a year.  I'm a bit stunned - by the speed of time, of course, but also by the fact that I still feel like a blogging neophyte.   I  just learned how to assign categories to my posts, and still have not found a header I love.  But here I am, one year in...for better or worse.

What I've learned in this year of blogging:

*.  It is infinitely easier for me to open up to others through writing.  I'm not face-to-face gushy, and certainly am not a hugger.  So blogging has introduced a forum where I can comfortably express myself.

*   There are AMAZING women everywhere...and so many have impacted me so fully in this forum - with everything from new recipes to renewed faith.   

*   I can't compare myself to others.  This goes hand in hand with #2.  That many amazing women can certainly be intimidating.  When I browse blogs and see professional photographs, mad sewing skills, perfect parenting, awe-inspiring writing...well, it can sometimes overwhelm. 

*   An at-home mother of littles needs an at-home outlet.

*   Friendships discovered over the internet are not as freakish as they sound.  I was trying to explain this phenomenon to a friend the other day.  Jenny's Christmas card was hanging up and he asked who it was, how I knew her, etc.  And I watched his eyes widen in wonder at the fact that this was a person I had met on the...internet (gasp!).  To be fair, my eyes widened in equal wonder (of the very nearly appalled variety) when Kelly first mentioned blogging to me over a year ago.  Yet..I truly treasure my friendships with each person on my sidebar. 

*   People - at least this person - need connection.  Renewed contact with many of my old friends has enriched my life...reminded me in some odd way of who I am and was before childbearing bumped me into forgetfullness.  Last night April & her family came over for dinner.  Oh my.  It was the perfect evening.  The kids were a dream, and the four adults just talked for hours.  Sitting & chatting with her & Dave was so like old times (with the welcome new addition of my Jim, of course).  All this because of blogging.  

*   I took maybe 100 pictures total in 2006.  2007?  I'm sure I'm in the thousands.   Not all of these appear on my blog, obviously, but I have been so much better at documenting my boys and our life. 

*   My husband thinks I'm great.  Okay, that sounds ridiculous, but we are all truthfully bundles of insecurity, no?  My insecurities wonder if he only sees the girl who hates to clean bathrooms and seemingly loves a house laden with laundry piles (my identity as a housekeeper definitely is in crisis at times). I have been grateful for the connection of Jim reading and talking about my writing and pictures.  I honestly don’t think he forgets that I’m not just the girl who makes his dinner, but I know that I do.

*   Writing about life allows one to step back and see the bigger picture far more often.  And the bigger picture's theme is ALWAYS love & abundance & gratitude.  Seriously.  What a blessing.