Taking a Moment

When the boys went back to school last year I grieved. Not just because school was starting and that meant schedules, homework, lunches packed, and on and on. It meant that my time to be with my boys was over and I never really got to enjoy them. Last summer was homeschool, vision therapy, swimming lessons, more swimming lessons, pressure to have the boys ready for school.  Anytime we had at home was reading, journal writing, sight words, letter sounds, vision activities, and fighting.  This summer I do not want September 1st to come and to feel that once again I lost moments with my boys.

But now it's mid-July and between tutoring (not by me), occupational therapy, MOPS planning meetings, VBS (what was I thinking), swimming (again), I look at my calendar and sigh.  I feel the days slipping by and yet I still keep saying, "when summer begins …" and yet summer is in full swing.  

Today was the first day with no plans, no meetings, no tutoring, no swim lessons, a completely free day. And then my MIL asked if we could come and help her pack. Actually, she asked if she could pay Jack to pack boxes and I said we'd all come because I'm not sure he is that helpful yet.  Today was sunny and I told the boys after Grandma's, and the grocery store, we would be off for some summer fun.  Except that the grocery story is our kryptonite.  We can not make it though without some spectacular parenting choices, lots of touching, fighting and extra items added to the cart.  By the time we were done the only plan I had for the rest of the day was home, unload groceries, and nap time for all.  

Somewhere in between putting the groceries away, and getting the boys out of room time, I made a decision. Swimming (in which I would have to get in the pool) or splash park (with everyone else in the city) would not be great choices for us at this time of day, but we could still take a moment.  

While the boys put on swim suits, I hosed off the nasty spider infested plastic pool, hunted down the broken-but-works-well-enough sprinkler and set up our own water park.  I threw out the beach towels, grabbed some snacks and called the boys outside.  

It wasn't what we had planned, it wasn't the perfect day I had in my mind, but as my youngest came running outside he said, "this is the best day ever!".  As I sat there in my lawn chair, watching the boys run from pool to sprinkler and back, I chose to let this moment sink in.  This moment where I had no place to be, the boys were laughing and having fun, and I could just enjoy the time with my boys.

I grabbed the moment and I held on with both hands. And I am so thankful.

End of Year

School ended last Friday. On one hand it felt like an eternity, but on the other, I swear I just dropped them off on the first day.

This year there was no crying when I asked for pictures.  Jack even suggested taking pictures with the teacher gifts - a complete surprise.

Jack's teacher this year was the perfect fit for him. She loved his quirky sense of humor, encouraged his love of dance, and listened to every story he had to share every single day.  There were tears when the day ended and we had to say goodbye - and they were not from me.

Micah's teacher I am pretty sure is doing her own dance that she will not have to do any parent teacher conferences with me next year. I told her she has 2 years before Finn comes to 1st grade to rebuild her Kleenex supply. Micah had a great year, he is our author, constantly writing unique and funny stories.

These boys. How did they get so big? Love these two.

How Do You Do It?

I get this question quite a bit. When out with my boys, when talking to other moms, whenever I am asked how many kids do I have: 3 boys, all two years apart.

Here's the answer:

And I'm only slightly kidding.

For Micah

To be honest, Micah kind of gets the shaft for his birthday. I wish I could say I was kidding, but I'm not. His is always (obviously) the last of our spring birthdays, it usual falls right around Easter, and this year had to compete with baseball season.  By the time we start the countdown to his birthday he only has a few days left.  

To make matters worse this year was our year of no parties, no kid parties that is.  We implemented an every-other-year approach to kid parties. If I was smart I would have the boys on opposite years, so we only have one kid party a year, but whatever.

Instead of a party the boys get to pick one friend and then choose a special event. Micah has known for an entire year what he would do:  Family Fun Center.  So, on a recent no school day, I took my three boys plus Micah's very best friend to this mythical place. Little did I know what I was getting in to.

Heading in!

Bumper boats with water squirters. Otherwise known as my worst nightmare.

 Tip: Leave the bumper boats for the end. Also, don't go in them if you are the only adult and you don't want to get soaked.  

Side-note: I thought I would be asked to leave after all the screaming that happened during this ride. I was offered a towel.

Aside from the bumper boat debacle, nearly losing them in the video arcade, and refusing to buy another 100 tokens, I think the day was a success.

Full disclosure: I did immediately go to dinner and order a mixed drink (or two) to recover from this family fun event. 

And Now You Are 9

How is that possible? 

One more year until double digits? 

How am I old enough to be a mom to a 9 year old boy. 

How did I get so lucky to be blessed with such an amazing, funny, sweet, sensitive, creative, confident little boy?

I don't know how it has happened, how you are already nine years, but I know I wouldn't trade a minute of it.  

I hope you never lose the part of you that makes you unique among your peers.  You are truly one of a kind and I am so proud to be your mom.  

For The Last Time

For the last time I walked into this room and sat at this table.

Four years ago I walked in with my 7 month old baby, and Brandon at my side. This was an exciting moment, our first parent-teacher conference. Even though it was only preschool it was such a big step. I was no longer the teacher welcoming in nervous, or excited parents, but I was that parent. The one the teacher smiles at, asks to sit, and then begins to tell them about their child.

This conference did not go as I expected and my smile, turned to a scowl, and then to tears. Unfortunately, this was not the only time I cried at a conference. Last week I went to a conference for my middle son and when I walked into the room I saw that all was ready for me. At the empty table where we would sit was a full box of kleenex. Oh, yes, my tears are expected and prepared for.

Four years later I am once again at that little preschool table. This time it is for that little 7 month old baby that came with me the first time. This time I came alone. Not even Brandon came with for moral support.  This time I was there to hear about my youngest, my baby, my last one, the one about to turn 5.

It was a new teacher but the conversation was the same. For the third time it was recommended that my beautiful, amazing, smart, funny, active boy wait one more year for Kindergarten.  This time I did not react with anger or sadness. I smiled and thanked the teacher for her honesty and for truly knowing my son. We were on the fence with what to do for school next year and her knowledge of my son helped to solidify the decision.

Three times I have sat at this table (okay actually four, we did it twice for Jack). Three times I have been told my son was not ready for kindergarten and should wait.  Twice it was for social and emotional development, once it was for academic.

Each time the decision on what to do was all consuming, and sometimes overwhelming.  Thinking of pros and cons, what this decision would do for my son's future, what was truly best for that particular son, consumed me.

One son we kept at this same preschool for two years.

One son we decided at the last minute to send to kindergarten.

One son we will wait but move to a pre-K closer to home.

For the last time I sat at this table. This time I did not cry, I laughed, I listened, I talked.  But I did not cry.

I cried later realizing the end of an era for my boys and me.

That Was Awkward

Today I was late bringing Finn and his friend to preschool. That, unfortunately, seems to be pretty standard around here right now. Me, running late, I mean. But today it created a slightly awkward social encounter.

After getting both boys out of the car and heading to the door I turned around and found a parent standing behind me. Yesterday his twin boys made Finn a flag of Japan. Which was nice, so I felt I should say thank you. After I did he still stood there, so I assumed I should make conversation. But I really didn't have anything to say and there is a bit of a language issue so I said the first thing that came to mind.

"We would love to have your twin sons over for a play-date."  (Even though Finn has said it was ok, as long as only one came).

He was kind of surprised but said, sure. I thought I would show my ESL skills and asked if it would be easier if I emailed him some suggested day and times.

That seemed to be a good idea. Then this dad asked if I wanted to write down his email. Well, I didn't have a pen, paper, or my phone. I had only grabbed my keys when I got out of the car.  Hmm. Well, he could write down his email for me.

That seemed like a good idea.  But, when he went to get a piece of paper, he had to go around me to open the door.  And that is when I realized he wasn't actually waiting to talk to me. Rather I was standing in front of his car door. Effectively blocking him from driving away.

So, I didn't have to actually set up a playdate with two 4 year old twin boys who only speak Japanese.

As Jack would say, "Well, that was awkward."