Libby started kindergarten this fall. She is doing so great and we are so proud of the little person she is becoming. She really likes school, and her teacher, and she's growing in so many new ways. Its such a fun new adventure. Tom says he feels old now that we have a kid in "real school," and I kind of agree. The start of Libby's official academic career has kind of launched a new season of life for me as well. I find myself juggling sight word lists and book-in-a-bags every night, trying to remember to sign off on homework and permission slips, making sure the library book gets in the book bag on Fridays and that tennis shoes are worn on Mondays...not to mention the chore of getting everyone up and out the door to get Libby to school before the bell rings. On another level, school has changed our family dynamic because suddenly, Libby's world has expanded to much more than just these four walls. She's getting to the age where her peers and other adults have as much (and sometimes more) influence on her than we do. She's discovered Justice clothing, and talks about TV show and movie characters that I know she's never seen here. She gets invited to birthday parties of kids whose parents I've never met, and today she's riding the bus home with a friend and staying for dinner. I won't see her until bedtime. It seems like just yesterday it was just her and I, spending every waking minute together. But things change, kids grow up, and now we're starting the process of bidding farewell to the "little kid" years with Libby.
All the while, we've just re-entered the baby stage with little Beau. We're starting all over again with diaper changes, night wakings, sleep schedules and washing an endless pile of bibs and onesies. I find myself stressing all over again about nursing issues, sleep training and growth spurts. I'm up at night shushing a crying baby, and I'm in the crawl space every other week pulling out old baby equipment.
And then there's Juliet. She just started preschool this year, so we're navigating that, in addition to separation anxiety, potty training, and the dreaded "terrible two" tantrums.
I feel like I'm all over the map in my parenting these days. Having three kids in three different stages is a really interesting experience. I can drop one kid off at school and talk reading assessment and PTO updates with one mom, hit the playground and discuss the best sippy cup and which snacks my toddler will eat this week with another mom, and then turn around and have a conversation about four-month vaccines with someone else. My life is basically mental and physical multi-tasking at its finest.
Most days, I feel like I have a handle on it all, but being in three different seasons at once can be exhausting. Just last night, bedtime was particularly rough. After about an hour of stalling tactics, tears, and negotiations, I finally broke down. I had had enough. Parenting (particularly stay-at-home-parenting) is a unique beast in the "jobs" world. Its the only job I can think of where you give 100% of yourself 100% of the time, and rarely get acknowledged for it. There's no raise or Christmas bonus. There's no "mid-year performance review" where your boss tells you the things you're really doing well. There's no "employee appreciation day" or donuts in the break room on Friday. There's no damn break room.
After my mini-meltdown last night, I was cleaning up the kitchen, though, and found a note Libby had written earlier this week. "To Mommy. I love you so much. You are the best mommy in the world." Its not donuts in the break room, but for this season, it'll do.
Happy Fall/Winter/Indian Summer everyone!
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