Young Rembrandt

Miss Jess and I are enrolled in a weekly art class at my favorite art studio in Campbell called The Art Beat.  I have enrolled each of the girls in classes here since I am a huge fan of art.  Jess loves to color and since I am a big believer in sister equality (trust me that will come up in a blog post) it was her turn to dawn her smock and get dirty.  Sharing the time with Jess while painting a tray, gluing wads of paper, whatever it is, happens to be the highlight of my week.  But I can tell from watching the other parents they aren't feeling the same bliss I am.

So heres the scene...Across from us always sits the older couple with their first child. The daughter, although cute, is too young for class.  The Mom quickly picks up whatever tool we are using and gets to work.  Even when the kid takes an interest and wants to paint, that Mom is quick to correct, re-direct, and basically hover, sapping all possible fun out of the creative process.   The father came last week and tried to gently mention to his wife that they should just let their daughter do her own thing and have fun, to which the wife gave him a 'shut your mouth' look and continued on with her painting.  It's hard, especially being a type A control freak parent, to let your kids pick up a paint brush and paint an entire ceramic clown black.  The line between helping and just pushing them out of the way and taking over can be so fine that you don't even realize you have crossed it.  So I do feel for these parents, but I must say it's painful to watch.  I want to scream 'hey if you won't let your kid paint a rock, will you let them try to tie their own shoes, drink out of a big girl cup?'.  Come on now. 

Next to them you have the Mom that is irritated just to be there.  I can't for the life of me figure out why she even signed up for the class.  She comes in perturbed, moves into crabby, hovers for a while at testy, and then finally settles in a general disdain for life itself.  Just a general rainbow in a bag.  As you can imagine, the kid picks up on all this and spends a good part of the class crying, sniveling and being generally unhappy.  Now I have felt all of those moods, however, this class is at 9:30 in the morning.  I'm usually not at that level of disgust until closer to the witching hour of 5:00 p.m.  So I'm not sure what the whole story there is, but it's a great example of how your kids can really pick up on your energy.  I have always said that my mood can make or break the day in our house.  It's not always the case for sure, but if I have slept poorly or I have a migraine and am feeling grumpy the kids are all over that negative energy.  If only I had a Yay pamphlet I could slip this gal. 

The last in the group is a nice woman who is expecting her second child any day now. She is tired but at least trying to enjoy her final days as a Mommy of one. She at least appears to be clued in to how special this time is and how soon her whole life is about to get a whole lot busier.  I can remember doing a class in which I had Alex in Baby Bjorn while trying to assist Gabby.  Talk about a balancing act, literally.  I still laugh sometimes thinking about how when I just had Gabby sometimes I would find that I wasn't able to get that much done in a day.  I was always wondering how these mothers of multiple children did it.  How could they do their families laundry and put a nice dinner on the table?  And what about those Moms that worked?  Funny now that I think about it.

So in essence, I guess you could say that at different points in my parenting life I have been all of these parents.  I am by no means a great parenting chief that is all knowing, but it's interesting to watch these parents are a different stage than I am at.  I'm sure if I hung out with parents that had kids in college they would be listening to my stories shaking their heads too.  Just more adventures in parenting that we all go through I guess. 

Too Old for Princesses

So I was feeling good, I just finished doing our taxes, we were getting a little mullah back which I had earmarked for our good ole credit card and then...dun dun dun...my sweetheart threw out the idea of going to Disneyland.  We are all off for the week and needed a family adventure.  I had some day trips in mind, and at one point had toyed with the idea of Disneyland, but I was hoping he had forgotten.  Fat chance.  Now, I love the magical kingdom as much as the next gal but old Walt and his fam are just milkin it.  That place now costs what would be the equivalent to buying a small village and we aren't even talking about actually staying anywhere near the park.  So my darlin got some resistance from the old ball and chain, aka the bean counter.  But then he had to go and play dirty.  He went and said that our oldest is on the verge of getting too old for princess stuff.  Too old for Disneyland.  He knows how to get me, that's for sure.

There was definitely some tossing and turning and weighing of pros and cons and well let's just say, we're going.  I couldn't help but think back to the first (and only) time we took the two older girls and how their eyes sparkled upon first walking into the park.  How they were so overwhelmed with the whole experience they weren't sure what to even make of it.  Now our oldest is looking on the internet planning which ride she wants to make sure to go on.  While the middle one is making sure everyone knows she doesn't want to go in the Haunted House again.  Obviously that one made an impression.  Then there is Jess all wide eyed and just excited watching her sisters talk about Disneyland and what they want to do and see.  This afternoon they got her all dressed up in a Cinderella costume and didn't even seem interested in dressing up themselves.  I guess it's true they are getting older. The middle one probably would dress up, but her older sister won't so forget about it. 

So yes I think there was a slight bit of pulling on the Mom strings to get me to agree to go, but I think Rick might have been right.  We are on borrowed time.  Soon they will want to go to Disneyland but not with us.  They will ask if they can bring a friend.  They will want us to bring them and then meet up with them later.  The "family vacation" will consist of Rick and I wondering what the kids are doing and watching the clock until its time to meet them.  So I will try to put the fact that I'm coughing up a small fortune out of my mind because spending these last princess years truly is priceless.

The Forgotten Art of Sleep

I can remember a time when it didn't matter how noisy, what was going on, if I was tired I was going to sleep.  I've never been a huge sleeper. I come from a long generational line of earlier risers.  But I do remember a time when I could sleep through anything. Heck I went to college at San Jose State.  Now though, one eye is open, one ear is always listening, and one foot is practically on the ground ready to leap out of bed and address whatever nighttime issue comes up.  Boy do I miss those good old sleep days.

When I tell people I used to be a good sleeper before kids I always bring up my favorite living in downtown San Jose story.  I was sharing a small two-story house with four other girls.  That is an entire blog in and of itself, trust me.  One night the cops came to our house and asked if anyone had heard a commotion outside.  I guess someone had been beaten up right outside our front door and nada one of us heard a thing.  Boy if that happened now, I would have heard that commotion, a fight down the way on 11th street, a car backing out of its driveway, etc, etc.

Now I assumed that all Mom's became light sleepers.  Yet another special Mom bonus, right up there with saggy boobs and worry lines on your face.  Interestingly enough in talking with other Mom's it's not a given for all Mom's.  Maybe it's only a special privilege for those of us born with the overly large worry vein pumping through them at all time. Who knows.  But it's definitely irritating. I would love to jump in and get a good nights sleep.  It's almost uncanny even to myself how I can just jump up at someones first stir and be right there having a conversation with them figuring out what's wrong.  Occasionally I have some groggy nights where my response time is a little slower, but normally I feel like I'm just resting at night waiting to get up and address an issue.  Sometimes when I can't sleep I try to figure out who will I hear from first. Will it be Alex having a nightmare? Will Jess misplace one of the 10 pacifiers in her crib and be sitting up screaming while she looks for the right one?  Will Gabby come in to tell us that she needs to go potty and get a drink of water?  The other night I thought about what great practice this would be for when they get older and they go out.  There will be no sneaking in after curfew with ole light as a feather watchin the clock. 

So sure I'm not getting my eight and my bag under my eyes are definitely packed, but will I sleep any better when they are away?  Well when the two older ones were at a sleep over not too long ago, I can tell you I actually slept worse.  I kept thinking I was hearing them or probably wanting to hear them.  I can only imagine when they are no longer living under this roof how I will long to hear their little voices in the middle of the night.  How I will long to have a little hand touch my face and want to know if its time to cuddle or not.  So in the big picture I'll have lots of time later for catching up on my sleep, but not a lot of time for my little people to be keeping me up.  Catch you later Mr. Sandman.

The scare

So last Wednesday I went to pick up the girls from school.  Let me step back a minute and say that Wednesday is early out for all the kindergartners through fourth graders so the scene is like the first day of summer break.  Whole lot of crazy kids running wild!  Jess and I wheeled up and got Alex who came skipping up rattling on a mile a minute about her day, stopped to 'Ms. Mary Mack Mack Mack' it with a friend, ran back to get her lunch and then we went on to get Gabby who resides in the next hall.  I was feeling a little anxious and already starting in on Alex about how we needed to tighten up the operation because it wasn't night to make Gabby wait, when we rounded the corner and where I would usually see my smiling Gabby she was not there.  I played it cool, I walk a little closer, looked up and down the hall/river of salmon.  No kid.  Heart starting to slow.  I found her teacher who quickly inquired with the other students still around.  "Nope we didn't see her at lunch."  Heart slowing to a near stop.   So...the teacher and I traipse down to the office and I get the principle pulled into my drama and they are just about to call her over the intercom when her sister sees her walking in the hallway outside. I have never wanted to shake/hug someone so hard in my life.  God love this child, she was helping a friend get something out of her hair, blah, blah, blah.  Needless to say, she got an ear load from her teacher and myself.

My kids know me, I hate hide and seek, we don't hide in stores, and although we live two blocks from school the question of when they can walk home by themselves hasn't come up because they know my answer.  I definitely border on being a helicopter parent I will admit, but I just love those little people so darn much that I make sure nothing is going to happen to them on my watch. So when I arrived and she wasn't there and her teacher wasn't sure where she was, her classmates hadn't seen her, and her sister was at a lose, to say I was getting a wee bit panicked would be the understatement of the century.

What was funny was the next day at work I was telling this story and every parent I mentioned it to had a similar story.  Everyone I ran into said the same thing, "Oh yeah I remember when..."  I was almost taken aback.  I almost felt like I had been through and passed the Mom initiation test.  If you can handle and live to tell about misplacing your child then you can handle anything.  What I didn't tell all of them was that I may have passed the initiation but I definitely feel scarred.  I may have somewhat kept my cool exterior in tact while looking around with her teacher trying to find her.  But when I finally set eyes on her I marched her out of the campus so fast because those tears were coming and there was no way to stop them.  I had know I was going to rip that campus apart trying to find what was mine and the let down of finally seeing her was too much. 

So you can keep your hide and seek games.  Just letting them out of my sight to go to school is proving to be all my little heart can take.

Is that the baby?

It's official Jess is enrolled in preschool.  Jess and I walked across the street the other day and turned in the first of many packets of forms we will turn in on her road to scholastic success.  I wanted to walk in the parking lot and Jess wanted to run, which actually seemed fairly symbolic of how I was feeling.  She proceeded to fall and part of me wanted to scoop her up and say, "See you're not ready yet. Come home with Mommy".  But truth be told she is ready.  I have watched her change so much within the last six months its mind boggling.  I was just telling Rick the other day how I was watching her in her little gym class sing to the songs, do the hand movements, and just generally blossom out of toddlerhood into preschoolness.  Hopefully no English teachers will ever read my blog or they will pull my degree back for my questionable made up words.  You get the idea...she's growing up.

I happened on this great article the other day about how raising four kids is easier than one, which I do actually agree with.  Albeit three in my case.  The end of the article gave a great analogy of kids being like balloons just floating up and passing by us and giving a quick bump as they go.  That really spoke to me.  My three girls are in such a rush to get big and move onward and upward and here I am with my feet planted on the ground trying to figure out how I can hold on to their strings just a little longer.

The next six months are going to be big ones for Jess.  Her vocabulary is getting bigger every week.  My latest favorite quote, "you're going to make me cry Momma"  just never stops being cute.  She jumping and getting air.  Plus spending all her waking time chasing her sisters and learning from them.  Which, as we know, can be good and bad.  Luckily I couldn't ask for better mentors (for the most part).

So once again, I find myself in that same spot of loving the every growing person my girl is turning into and wanting to scream at the world to slow down.  I'm holding onto that balloon string as tight as I can.  There's a little give, and each day I convince myself I should let it out a little more.  Just don't ask me to untie it from my wrist.  I'm not ready to watch it float up so high I can't see.  That goes for all three.