Well, he's off...

 And I held it together. Barely. Yesterday was the first day of kindergarten, but I went with him and it was only for two hours. Today? Today was the real deal. We dropped him off at the door with all the other kids. I peeked in to make sure he made it to his classroom (it's right there). I saw him walk in with a huge grin on his face. He didn't have the best day yesterday, but he was so excited to go today. I'm sitting here trying to keep my mind off of my worries about him (will he have another tantrum, will he remember to use a tissue, not his sleeve; will he be okay in the cafeteria; will he actually rest at rest time). I'm trying to enjoy this one on one time with G (Baby S is napping). I'm trying to keep my mind off of T, all by himself, gone all day long.

You know, mostly what I've been sad about is that our life is going to be different now. For five years, it's been pretty laid back. We color, paint, take walks, go to parks, visit family, whatever we want, whenever we want. Now we have times to be places - T is a walker, so I have to be there to pick him (we live close enough that we don't get a bus, but far enough that I would be very, VERY nervous to let my elementary school student walk alone). We have kids in school. We can't take three day weekends away at random or do things when kids are in school so we're some of the only people there. I don't anticipate this feeling of loss when G goes off to all-day kindergarten. For one thing, she's a little high maintenance and I'm not so good at the maintaining. But our life will already revolve around school. It won't be this huge change. I'll miss her, just like I will miss her when I send her off to preschool next week. 

The beginning of the end...

We took T to the school's Open House last night. We met his teacher and found the cafeteria and all that fun stuff. I went to the school twenty years ago (for fifth grade only) so I was supposed to remember where everything was. Except they've just a few things (really only a few). But we found his classroom, walked around, met Mrs. B. It was good.

But there were loads of people milling around, all trying to find their new classrooms and teachers (all grades go to this open house). So Tom grabbed T and G's hands while I pushed Baby S. As we walked away from the crowd, toward the quiet gymnasium, T said to Tom, "Could you hold my hand a little tighter, Dad?" Tom and I couldn't hold back our tears. It's nice to know he's not quite ready to let go yet too.

Photographic Crisis of Faith...

Well, of sorts. See those people? That picture? We found it in a box at Tom's grandparents' house. No one alive knows who those people are. I scanned the picure anyway, because, well, some part of me couldn't allow this to go into oblivion, as many of the other pictures in that box have begun to. The images are fading into nothingness. One hundred years ago, someone cared enough to take the time and money to have this picture made. There's a sense that they're related to my husband, since the photos were found in his family's home, but no clear indication of who they might be. There were dozens of photos just like this one. I didn't scan them all, but I wanted to.

This has forced me to think about my own photos - what will become of them one hundred or more years from now. Will anyone care that I took artsy pictures of my gardens or my kids? Will they wonder who the heck these people are and stash the pictures back in a box? And it's almost made me redouble my efforts to get my photos organized - scrapped or otherwise. Even if they're sitting in a box somewhere, in no particular order, they deserve to have labels on them - names, dates, places. Anything I can think of to let future generations know why this picture was taken. Will I one day have a great-granddaughter-in-law who will want to take care with them for her children, as I am doing now?

I don't know if I have a point. I'm just sort of thinking about all those photos in that box and how they relate to what I do. I'm still thinking it through.

My baby is leaving me...

Or Why I'm Sad about Kindergarten Starting...

I was in bed the other night with tears streaming down my face as I thought about my oldest child heading off to kindergarten in two weeks. I mourn the loss of our time together - not that we'll never see each other again, but it won't be the relaxed leisurely days we've had together for five years. It will be "What's for dinner? Did you do your homework? Get ready for bed."

DH wanted to know why I'm so sad as T was in a bad mood yesterday. And MissG wouldn't eat her dinner without a dramafest. He said "This? You'll really miss this?" He has a point. But I know in my heart that things will change. My baby is growing up. And I wouldn't have it any other way, but that doesn't mean I won't miss the boy he is today. I can't wait to find out where life takes him, who he'll meet, what he'll become. But a part of me will always miss my days with him, when it was me and my boy (and girls). I'm trying to remind myself how much that drives me crazy, how I can never think of enough fun things to do with him (them, now). And I think of how nice it will be for MissG to have me for a while, although I sense that she will be very lonely for a while, until BabyS can play with her the way T does now.

So I'm sending him off, sadness in my heart, but a smile on my face, for it's my job to help him grow, to give him the strength to face the world on his own.

Plans...

 Talk about ambitious. I just learned to knit two weeks ago and I'm planning to give sweaters to all the children on my Christmas shopping list. Not to mention the afghan I've been crocheting for my MIL, who has been hinting (not really hinting so much, I suppose, as out and out asking) for one since I gave her my first afghan I ever made three years ago. I'll update on my progress later. Hopefully, there will be some. 

See what I mean about the old toys?

 Yesterday the metal (from Target, my home away from home) Thomas the Tank Engines made a reappearance. I guess I should be happy that they still play with everything, but seriously, we need to clean out some of these toys. We're feeling overrun. Add to that my serious lack of organization and you have toy chaos. 

Vintage Jackpot...

 
 DH's grandmother died in April. His mother and her sister and brother are in the process of cleaning out her house (and she was a bit...a lot of a packrat, so it's a lengthy process). The woman never threw anything away. DH and I were looking at old family photos and he said nothing in that house has changed from the years before he was born even. So these things were hers that she bought back in the fifties and probably never used (the cake platter doesn't have a scratch or rust spot on it at all, the canisters are only a bit rusty, but their insides are pristine).

In the cleaning process, my notorious love of everything vintage and baking related got me these treasures. My MIL and her siblings were happy to see someone in the family use and enjoy them rather than see them sold to a stranger and I'm in love with my vintage jackpot. 

A new hobby?

 Or at any rate, a fun challenge for me. Knitting is something I've always felt like I should be able to do (I can crochet, after all. I taught myself how during Hurricane Isabel three years ago). I hit a road block when it came to purling, but unlike my previous attempts at knitting, hitting that road block didn't make me give up. I just tried a different book's explanation and it clicked. I think it's (and this applies to learning anything, really) mostly a matter of finding a way of saying how to do something that works with the way my brain processes information. This is one of the things that makes Tom a good teacher and me just not. I usually can't think of a way to say something other than the way it works in my brain. Tom can say something several different ways so that lots of different types of thinkers can grasp it. Good thing he starts teaching in ten days (he'd hate me for even thinking that - he dreads the start of school worse than most students, I think). 

Happy birthday to me!

 Okay, it's more than a bit late. But I have an excuse. A good one. A really, really good one. Really, you ask? Really, really good? Yes. It is. What could possibly keep MamaChris from whining about turning thirty on the exact day of that occasion? Well, my beloved family decided to surprise me with a trip to the beach. ! And, to top that, which was pretty darned cool to start with, they "While You Were Out"ed us. Not the official WYWO crew and all, but they redid our half-bath that we've been planning to redo for months. So DH and I got a weekend away without the kids AND a new bathroom. Quite the thirtieth birthday. I spent it lounging on a beach, going to a movie that doesn't feature cartoon characters, even if it was a Disney flick (but Johnny Depp's Captain Jack removes all childlike aspects of that statement. Swoon.) swimming in our hotel bar, drinking at the hotel's outdoor bar while the waves crashed nearby. Ahhhhhh. I even got carded. The man was old enough that anyone under 45 looked young to him, but I thanked him anyway.