turnover

i volunteered at the kids' school yesterday afternoon up until when the final bell rang, and waited in the lobby for them to join me so that we could begin the mad dash that always makes up our mondays: maneuver the car out of the jam-packed parking lot, race home, help susanna and her friend maggie wriggle their bodies into leotards, feed all three kids snack, load up the car again (making sure liam has plenty to occupy him for an hour) and hightail it to gymnastics.

but it's funny how kids don't seem to sense urgency when you need them to.  susanna came skipping down the kindergarten hall towards me, arms outstretched with a booklet of some sort, intent on sitting on my lap on the lobby couch as she showed me its contents.  i reminded her of our time crunch and assured her that we would spend time that evening really looking at the pages and discussing them.

but i got a sneak peek while she was at gymnastics.  turns out that she was yesterday's Student of the Day, where she gets to stand in front of the class and is asked the same set of questions every Student of the Day is asked: what is your name?  who do you live with?  what is your favorite color?  what is your favorite thing to do?  and then, after the interview is finished, everyone in the class creates a picture of the Student of the Day, showcasing some of what the student shared in his/her interview.  the booklet that came home is a stapled set of all these drawings.

as i thumbed through the pages, i was fascinated for two reasons.  for one, i'm constantly amazed at what a wide range of ability levels are housed in one kindergarten classroom.  you see it with readers vs. non-readers, athletes vs. the less-coordinated set, musicians vs. those who are tone-deaf.  and after flipping through the booklet, add one more area to the list: artistic ability.  there were drawings that were spot-on perfect, down to the ruffled hem on susanna's skirt.  and there were drawings where, as hard as i tried, i couldn't even make out where susanna's head was.  people marvel at how i teach middle school ... i marvel at how kindergarten teachers possibly deal with a group of students whose levels are all over the map.

so that was the first fascinating piece.  the other was what susanna was doing in most of the pictures. i've scanned a few of them and inserted them below.  susanna's name is on the top, as the title, and the artist's name is visible at the bottom.  do you see what struck me?

yes, susanna was wearing a green top and a polka dot skirt with an orange fringed hem.  yes, she has dark blond hair and blue eyes.  and yes, she loves to be outside.  these budding artists perfectly captured all those aspects of our little girl.  but there's one other thing that they all included -- even the last one, which is a bit harder to see.  something that rocked me to my core.

she's PLAYING FOOTBALL.

i've written on this very blog about my hatred of the sport.  i love watching basketball and tennis and will contentedly serve as spectator to baseball and soccer and golf and even bowling ... but anyone who knows me knows how much i absolutely detest football.  so how is it possible that my doll-loving, princess-adoring, musical-singing prisspot daughter actually got in front of her class and, when asked what is her FAVORITE thing to do, opened her rosebud lips and uttered the phrase, "i like to play football with my older brother"?

i'm all for my children asserting their independence and stepping out on their own and developing their own likes and interests and hobbies.  but seriously ... football?

it's like a line drive to my heart.

("line drive" is a football term, right?  i'm trying to come up with a nifty pun but my utter lack of knowledge is causing me to fumble.  probably something i need to tackle in the near future.)

memories ... light the corners of my mind

(note: i totally had to look up the lyrics to "the way we were" for the title of this post and, as always, was surprised to learn i've been singing the wrong words all these years.  chris would not be surprised.)

during dinner a few nights ago, we somehow started talking about the kids' first birthdays.  if chris were here next to me he'd be able to remind me how we got on the subject; alas, he's not, so i'll sit here trying to remember how it all came about even though it's really not important.  regardless, our children, like all children (and, really, all adults), love to hear about themselves when they were younger.  they hang on my every word, even if it's not at all interesting.  "and then, you would roll over on those chunky baby thighs and go to sleep," i could say, and their eyes would twinkle and they'd laugh and ask me to tell them more.  "and you'd just sleep and sleep all night," i could continue, and they'd still be mesmerized, peppering me with questions.

so we were recounting liam's second birthday during our dinner the other night, describing who was there and where it was and what we ate.  "he was wearing that blue and white checked outfit, right?" chris asked.  and i didn't even have to think about it -- i knew he wore that outfit, not because of my stellar memory (which has already been discounted), but because we have pictures of it.  and more than just pictures, we have scrapbook pages of it.  i'd like to pat ourselves on the backs and marvel at how our minds are like steel traps even at the ripe old ages of 36*, but that's not the case.  we remember it because we documented it.

it makes me wonder if we remember the Big Events of Our Lives because they were indeed Big ... or do we remember them because we have visual evidence that they occurred?  tangible proof that we can hold in our hands and help us relive?  pictures we can pass around as we reminisce, details on the glossy paper that trigger memories in our mind we would otherwise forget?

all of this was going through my mind that night at the dinner table.  while i half-listened to chris describing to susanna what her first birthday cake looked like (which is prominently featured in her scrapbook spread of may 2007, natch) my mind was focusing on our blog, because i haven't posted nearly as often as i'd like as of late.  despite having this newfound "freedom" afforded to mothers as they send their youngest off to kindergarten, i've been stretched much too thin with a new 40-hour a week work schedule that i'm somehow trying to squeeze into the 35 hours a week that they're in school, while also doing volunteer work and laundry and bible study and grocery shopping.  i'll try to make a mental note of something to include in our blog, but by bedtime, i've stared at the computer screen for far too long that day already and collapse on the pillow without even pulling up our page.  and i'm already kicking myself mentally on behalf of my future self, who won't have a page in the 2011 blog book to read to remind myself of exactly how susanna's first day of gymnastics went, or the kids' impromptu dance party i stumbled upon, or the hilarious-but-totally-awkward conversation we had on the way to school last week with our neighbor that somehow connected a barbecue restaurant with a dog and our nickname for girls' private parts.  (well.  on second thought, i might not have actually written about that.  but trust me, it was funny.)

so.  the house renovation is done (pictures coming soon), the school year is in full swing, and our lives are back to normal a new normal.  the routine has returned, and hopefully, the blog has too.  because if it doesn't, we may just have a difficult time remembering anything about 2011.

* i originally posted this stating our ages as 37.  i just realized that we are both still 36.  and now i'm starting to wonder seriously about alzheimer's.

wordless wednesday

i seem to remember when i birthed my first child that there was a checklist of things i was required to do, simply because all mothers do them.  somewhere between "jump around like a ninny when your child goes #2 on the potty" and "have your child's feet professionally fitted and realize he's been walking around in shoes two sizes too small" was the obligatory "take pictures of your child's first day of school and share them with the world".  (this was in the days before facebook; certainly by now the checklist has been amended to "take pictures of your child's first day of school and post them on facebook along with the other 98% of your news feed who's doing the same thing".)

liam's first day was actually a few weeks ago, on august 25, but kindergarten always starts a full week later, so susanna didn't begin until september 1.  both of them have had huge smiles on their faces ever since; they love their teachers and love their classrooms and love their classmates.  it certainly makes drop-off easier for me, to have two kids who look forward to school and bound out of the car, eager to start their day.  just as their momma, after 7+ years of being at home with them, is eager to start hers.  :)

on liam's first day, with susanna along for the ride

standing next to his cubby, wearing a pristine new backpack that will assuredly look like a truck ran over it by day's end



some little sister supervision for his inaugural day desk work



daddy got to hold her hand ... and mommy got to hold her backpack

outside the school building.  i just now realized that liam wore the same exact shirt on his first day and then a week later for susanna's first day.  he's partial to the carolina blue, of course, but it does make things a bit confusing

"i really only need to know how to write five different letters in order to write my whole name," she very astutely pointed out

according to my sources, to this day, liam still walks susanna down to her classroom and even gives her a hug goodbye before turning around to head to the first grade hall

the highlight of her big first day?  the bus ride home wins by a landslide