Do you hear that giant sigh? That sigh of relief I’m heaving now that school is back in swing? Oh, happy days!
This sweet pea kicked off his First Montessori days in grand style, crying his big blue eyes out for about 30 minutes. I’ve been assured he made a recovery in due time and when I returned to fetch him, he was scampering around the toddler playground, happy enough (though sticking rather close to his amazing teacher, Miss Mamatha).
Bubbles subdued the nerves on the drive to school, but once he got out of the car, he started to fret. Even his trusty school bus shirt didn’t help…
I’m thrilled to report that after a mere week, Theo now walks into his class (instead of being carried) with no tears at all. He’s an avid “bikket” (biscuit) maker in his class and has shared his favorite book (a ladybug counting book given to me at a baby shower for Jack) with his new friends. I pick him up, and he and I have 3 glorious hours of Mommy and Theo time. He is the joy of the household right now. I mean, really: how many other kids tote a “bus bag” around with them? (Of course, his “bus bag” is actually a tan Crown Royal bag filled with trucks, cars and only 2 buses…). How many other little guys snuggle down with 5 different “puh-pulls?” We are in the midst of a magical time with our sweet Theo…
Now this guy is also in a magical time…he’s officially an afternooner, and he couldn’t be prouder. His other grand discovery is an innate ability to rock climb. It really is rather spectacular to see. He flies up the walls and has no fear (well, you all knew he had no fear already). In fact, we are at Atlanta Rocks right now, and Tucker is currently climbing a slightly inverted wall (with ropes, of course). He’s only 4 and 1/2! We are so happy he’s found something he feels he can excel at alone; Jack has absolutely zero interest in rock climbing, so this is all Tuck’s gig and he likes it that way.
Don’t worry…they are still total partners in crime.
Here’s our first grader, happy as a clam at his new school! I have to admit that I started crying immediately after that last picture. How did our little guy go from this:
so quickly? He reads, he writes, he runs and throws balls and can ride a bike when he’s not thinking about it (it’s Jack, after all…he tends to think a lot). Maybe it’s the fact that I am out from under the smother of summer, but these three little fellows have completely stolen my heart yet again.
A friend told me today that I should gather all my facebook statuses and publish them. While I highly doubt that would fly off the charts, I did go back and take a peek at the documented mayhem of my family. Henry, the 11.5 year old cocker spaniel, being cleaned with Method Wood for Good cleaner. Theo drawing on the floor. Various and sundry items being flushed down the commode. Tucker’s verbal antics. The deep thoughts of Jackers. Baby’s funnies–like the fact that he thinks his name is “Baby” (wonder why he thinks that?). Our days are chock full of humor and laughter, spunk and zest…just the way I like them.
At my guild meeting this morning (St. Margaret’s at St. Martin in the Fields Episcopal Church), we were talking about having a Mary heart in a Martha world. I had to smile because Russ surely thinks I’m so much more Mary (a “sit around and take it all in” type of gal) than Martha (a go-gettin’ schedule planner to the max). I told the hilarious ladies in my group, all of whom are young mothers with young children, that the Cheerios box will get put away, the laundry will get folded and the shelves will get dusted…eventually. However, my crew of tiny people will only be this age right now–right this very moment–and thinking of that makes me overlook the cluttered closets and the dishes in the sink. When given the choice between rummaging through a messy desk drawer and running through the slip-n-slide in the front yard with my sons, is there really even a decision to be made? Twenty years from now, I’ll certainly remember these days for what they are–a much needed, crisp recapturing of snapshots of my own joyful, creative, fun-filled childhood–and not for what they could have been–a short-lived victory in the ever-continuing war against mess and clutter. And I pray my boys remember these days just as fondly…