What I would do for post-pool hair like Sophia's.

Sophia

Dear Sophia,

I don't think it was an accident that Heavenly Father sent you to us first.  I'm certain that you have always had this angelic personality of yours, and that you would have volunteered to come to us before your brother and sister, to be the guinea pig-- to let us test out all of our parenting mistakes-- and to help us become better for the rest of them.  Because a: you can handle it, and b:  that is exactly what you do.  You sacrifice yourself for others.  It's as natural to you as breathing.

I think you knew you were signing up to be the example.  It is so comforting to me to know that you will carve out the first path, with a conscience the size of the Pacific and such a desire for good.  Everyone who gets to be around you is lucky.  Every single one of us.

You think of everyone around you... and are the first to stick up for a friend who needs it, or remind a kid who's into trouble ... that there are consequences.  :)  It crushes you a little when they wave you off and don't want your help... some have even said mean things to you. (When you're begging them off the black top because that's what the yard duty announced etc..)   "Mom, I didn't know what to do-- I just didn't want them to get in trouble but they told me I was weird and to go away." It doesn't phase you though. Your desire to help others is bigger than your desire to protect your ego and I think that makes you a 6-year-old hero.

You give and give and give.  I give you a treat in your lunch--- and you list the kids at lunch you shared it with.  You get a treat at church, and you save half for Mila.  If one half was bigger... you'd probably give it to her.  If Mila pulls your hair and puts me over the edge so that I have to drag her off to time-out, your heart aches for her.. and you insist your head doesn't hurt anymore, and that she should come out.  Then you run around the house trying to find things that will make her happy. Your capacity for forgiveness is infinite.

But do not be mistaken.  You are no doormat.  You are just like your father.  You are sweet and generous every day of your life.  But you are confident.  You are confident in your place in this family and your place in this huge world as a daughter of God.  When it matters, you do not bend and you can be FIERCE when it comes to defending friends, family, beliefs, or morals ... all the things that really matter.

I live in awe of you.  Your dimples and your eyes as blue and big as the sky.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for being mine.

Love,
Mom

Now you see it, now you don't.

Yesterday it finally happened.  6 and a half-- and she lost her first tooth! A two-dollar tooth apparently. Luckily she filled us in on the tooth-fairy's rules she's learned from friends.  I was a little nervous to see those darling little teeth start to go.  But I think this smile's pretty rad.

She's really SIX

Her real birthday was a little spoiled by the incident. The dun dun dun. So we saved the party for a few weeks later. She wanted a pirate party. I wanted a swim party so that I wouldn't have to come up with games. That part stresses me out and the summer had just been so busy and I was REALLY hoping to keep it simple. My friend, Lizzie has the most amazing house with a beautiful big pool that she was so kind to offer up for it... so we did a pirate pool party.

Last year, I was so concerned with getting some cute birthday party photos that I spent way too much time making things picturesque. Pretty sure Sophia didn't care that the bubbles were labeled or the cupcake toppers were matted. So I decided to take it easy this time.

I let her pick the friend-list and she kept it nice and small. We did pizza, fruit, pirate's booty, and cupcakes. Some of her best friends were there. We swam, Ross led them in a "diving" contest, and they went on a treasure hunt and found an awesome treasure box from Captain Blackbeard (he's a reoccurring story for our kids and might rank up there with Santa.)

It was perfect. Everyone had fun and was sufficiently sugar-crazed by the end. And I could sit back and witness it all. And I still can't believe she's 6.

Reading

One of the reasons first grade has been tough for me, is that Sophia has not been nearly as... interested in reading and writing as I'd hoped. Kindergarten was wonderful, but I did end the year knowing I planned on making up some time over the summer. We tried. And tried and tried. But it just wasn't going the way I'd always pictured it going. My creative attempts and patient voice didn't help, Sophia had decided that school was hard and homework was not fun and while she loves us to read to her, any attempts at getting her to read (even just the words she knows) usually ended badly. She would get so frustrated so quickly.

Her kindergarten teacher had told me once that Sophia's biggest challenge is that she's so hard on herself. So if she struggles with something, she just wants to write it off. She doesn't want to do it and fail. We've really worked on this -- and obviously we've taught her time and time again that everybody makes mistakes... that that's all part of learning and that's why we practice ... yada yada. But she would still get exhausted and frustrated after pointing out a few of her sight words in a book I was reading. I was feeling so discouraged. I want reading and learning to be a fun, positive thing, but she would fight me so much when I tried to work with her on it. Homework time became this combination of me being sugary sweet and dangling all sorts of rewards, her not giving in, me getting sterner, her storming off in frustration, me sneaking off for a mom--time-out.... it was a downward spiral. Too often, we were both grumpy and exhausted by the end.

I felt lost-- "WHAT am I supposed to do? I don't want to push her too much and make reading and learning a negative thing. But I don't want to let her get behind just because she doesn't 'want' to do it. At what point do you teach them--- yeah, sometimes school sucks, but you HAVE to do it if you want to be a smart grown-up. ?" You know?

This is one of the reasons I was so stressed when she didn't get the teacher I'd hoped for. I knew we might have some challenges this year, and I figured the least I could do was get her set up in the best possible situation with a teacher that could 'make learning fun.' Because clearly, I'd failed.

My point in writing this post was positive. I think we may have, quite possibly, maybe just turned a corner. (!!!) I'm still knocking on wood.

But the other day, she grabbed Hop on Pop, a simple Dr. Seuss book perfect for brand new readers. One I've tried to get her interested in reading since kinder. She said, "I want to read this mom." And she read it all. Of course I knew she could. But now SHE knows she can. She was so excited that she could read a whole book... she kept saying these amazing things I've always wanted to hear like:

"I love reading mom"

"I want to read this book again and again and again mom"

" I want to read forever and ever mom... reading is SOO much fun."

Oh my.

Pinch me.

Ever since, she's been carrying it around, reading it here and there. She came in our room the next morning and started reading it aloud at 6am. Usually we'd make them be quiet--- this time we didn't.

She's picking up other books and trying them out, realizing how many words she knows, and how many she can figure out. And always, I can see it on her face, the astonishment and pride that she just strung together a whole story.

I feel like it's changed her whole attitude. I'm still knocking on wood... but it's soooo much better. And I feel like we may have just turned a really big corner. This girl makes me so proud.

Soccer.... Round 2

(Poor girl would usually have her hair pulled back, but this was the weekend I was gone for the Ragnar so obviously she had the same hair all weekend.)

So.... we're doing soccer again this year. I may have... sort of accidentally, sort of intentionally let the deadline slip and skipped the sign ups. Then Ross was all heart-broken about it and Sophia kept talking about how she couldn't wait for soccer to start up again (so she could get a snow-cone afterwards... but still) so I scrambled and emailed and called and got on a wait-list and while we were in Hawaii, Ross's dad signed her up. We were committed... again. Even after last year's wonderful experience.

And if you read that post from last year... you'll know that this is A BIG DEAL:

SHE LOVES IT!... and she's (ahem) GOOD! It's like something just clicked and she realized that if she just GO's... few girls will really get in her way. And if she GO's all the way to the goal, she'll score one. She never scored a goal last year. And in the two games this year, she scored once in the first game, and three times in the second. I missed the first game but witnessed it all come together in the second... and it really did feel like once she scored one... it aaaaalllll made sense.

There's still hope of that happy soccer-mom I once dreamed I'd be. Let's talk when our spectating is accompanied by sub 100-degree temps.

The "Dun dun dun"

Let me lead with a few quotes that I dug up on the ever-reliable world wide web.

"A common misconception is that lice infestation is a result of poor hygienic practices. In fact, it is actually believed that head lice prefer clean hair to dirty hair."

"Getting head lice isn't a sign of bad personal hygiene or an unclean living environment."

"Having head lice does NOT mean the person has poor hygiene or low social status." (ouch)

Now that we've made that nice and clear.... Sophia, my sweet CLEAN :) Sophia, had LICE!!!

Lice. LICE! I've heard of people getting it. My mom says some of us had it as kids. I don't remember ever having it, though I remember having a tick burned out of my head that was burrowing it's way into my skull once.

I knew it was one of those things you might face with school-aged kids. But I didn't think I'd face it like two days into first grade.

As it turns out, once I starting scouring the internet for information about it, she got it before school started... it takes longer than a few days to get to a point where you would notice anything. I had heard about it going around a bit before our trip to Hawaii, and freaked out, imagining it hitting us right before we left town and ruining the trip. But I checked the girls a few times and saw nothing out of the ordinary.... then took off to Hawaii and didn't think about it again.

I discovered it last Thursday morning, when I went to do her hair for school and she said it itched.... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... I get the eebi jeebies again just remembering that moment. I started inspecting her scalp right where she was itching and saw a couple of moving bugs!!!!!

"Roooooooooosssssss!!!!" Thank goodness he was still home. So after calling my pediatrician, he went out to get me everything we might possibly need to fight this INSANE war.

My ped told me to use 1 tbs olive oil, 1 tsp tea tree oil, and 1 tsp eucalyptas oil mixed with an equal part of Johnson and Johnson's baby shampoo.... to wash with it and leave it on for 30 minutes. We did it... and I started the dreaded "nit-picking" (never realized where that term came from, assuming it's from this?) One fell on the towel we were sitting on, and was still crawling....

AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! THEY WEREN'T ALL DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So we went for treatment two, the stuff most people use, RID. But first I had to blow dry her hair since you have to apply it to dry hair. Now I'm picturing them flying all over my bathroom. Is your skin crawling? Mine hasn't stopped since last Thursday.

Now as much as I don't want to treat my kids with pesticides, that is NOT why I chose to try the other route first. I wanted to do whatever it took to kill these nasty bugs. But my doctor didn't even tell me to use the shampoos, they said that lice have built up a resistance to the pesticides used in the lice shampoos over the years, and that they are not as effective as they used to be. But that these oils did a far better job. And as a perk, they won't kill your kids. So I tried 'em. I wasn't so sure... so then I tried the other stuff too. In hindsight, I think a few just died a little bit slower of a death.

Which might not be such a bad thing.... they deserve it.

So back to the nit picking... where my hands dive into my sweet daughter's head of hair that I just saw crawling with live bugs.

I can honestly say that (at the time) it was one of the hardest things I've done as a mom. I was trying not to seem too disgusted... worrying it would hurt her feelings. And I still can't get over that while she has been SOOOOO sensitive and easily offended lately, she was barely phased by the idea that she had LIVE bugs in her hair. She was afraid to lay down in the bath water to rinse her head, for fear that a bug would come OUT of her hair and get in the bath and "get her".

...

But it didn't bother her that they had already infested her head. ?? Don't know.

The other crazy thing is that for school on Wednesday (the day before I found it), I had braided her hair in two braids. That means I'd parted it and really gotten my fingers in there, and I didn't notice a THING. These suckers are really small.... but what I really think happened, and it's really disgusting, is that some eggs had just hatched overnight. Which is why she was suddenly scratching.

Are you still reading? Or is this way too much information and way too gross. Eggs--- filled with blood-sucking bugs--- hatching in your hair.

It's like that scary story from those old "scary stories" books, where the girl has a big zit on her cheek and then it hatches in the bath and baby spiders crawl out. Oh no... it wasn't a zit at all. I think that haunted me in my preteen years. Maybe it still does.

Back to Thursday... BLACK THURSDAY, I think I'll call it. Because I will never forget that day. After the second shampoo, it was 11 am, and from that point, until a little after 7pm that night, I was hunched over Sophia, in all sorts of weird positions as she tried to get comfortable, picking through... almost literally, every SINGLE hair of her head. I put it all in a pony and took a small section at a time and went through a teenie line of hair... over and over and over and over.... most tedious thing I've ever done....

I fed Finn as quickly as I could when he needed it... Put out bowls of snacks on a blanket on the ground for the girls, and switched out movies, precisely FIVE times.... but other than that, it was eight hours of STRAIGHT nit-picking. Ross came home once in the middle of the day to help clean the house and wrapped his day up early. He took the two little ones for the last hour or so while Sophia fell asleep on the toy room floor with two strawberry girls in her hands, and I picked through the last small section of her hair with a big flashlight on her. Poor thing... she was so tired of it all.... but such a good sport.

(no idea why my font changed there... can't figure out how to fix it- sorry)

After they went to bed, we scoured the house, washed everything I hadn't already washed that morning, and bagged everything else (soft stuff... barbies, stuffed animals, clothes etc...) to leave it in the garage for a couple of days. (They say that lice can't live over 48 hours off the body, so to bag anything they could be hanging out on.)

I've picked through her hair every day since, and I don't think I'll ever be the same. I'm pretty sure I'll be doing a quick check every morning at breakfast for the rest of their childhood. Those nits are TINY... SO tiny, and practically invisible. They're not white like I've read some places online. They are... invisible. seriously. Or at least on Sophia's hair. They are pretty much sandy blonde. And it makes me sick that they all had to GET there somehow. And that I didn't see a darn thing until I started SEARCHING. Seriously. I don't ever want to go through that again. And I wouldn't wish it on ANYBODY.

Which is why I thought maybe just MAYBE it'd be helpful to write this all out for somebody.

In the future, if I ever get one of those notes home from school or think my kids were around some poor kid who got lice. (Um... by poor- for the record-- I mean some unfortunate kid who was unlucky enough to get lice.... not like some kid with no money. Got a mean comment... better just make that nice and clear.) I would wash their hair THAT DAY with the oil mixture... or the shampoo. Nothing kills the eggs... but if you got a bug in your hair from someone else, which is how it all starts... a shampoo could kill that bug before it lays any eggs and RUINS YOUR LIFE.

Ok it's not THAT bad. But almost. In hindsight... maybe it's not as bad to me as I thought it was?? But I think I've felt like that through every difficult mommy thing. It's always kind of empowering to realize you've survived something. Dramatic? Let me know if you think that after you've done lice. I could have died of non-stop heebie jeebies. And I was seriously considering shaving her head about three hours and three inches in to her hair. And I love her long hair!

Warning: if you google images of nits, bring a bowl, because you will want to throw up. And for the record, that is NOT what Sophia's head looked like. Her's were here and there, and SOOO hard to find... not some nest of white eggs like someone dumped tapioca on her head. But disgusting nonetheless.

We watched Jane Eyre a couple days after, and I couldn't stop thinking about what they must have done in the old days when they got lice. They must have had it forever. Or just dipped their head in kerosene like my grandma did. While that day, I kept thinking.. "it's 2011, I can't BELIEVE there's not a better way to do this"... I guess it could have been worse...

Am I gonna regret sharing all of this? Please don't shun us. If you do, we'll sneak into your house and give you all of our old hair ties.

THE FIRST DAY

I'm not gonna lie. It wasn't good for me.

She was a trooper, even though none of her new shoes fit and we had to make do and use some old sunday shoes while we quickly put in a new order at Zappos. Thank goodness for free-return shipping--- I've gone crazy there lately. We are NOT stocked up on closed-toe-shoes around these parts.

I'm glad to see her smiling in this picture, because I kind of want to cry every time I think about her being there right now. I know she can "handle" it. But I want it to be a lot better than that. I didn't get the teacher that I'd hoped for... and while I'm sure this teacher has all sorts of strengths, I worry they're not the right ones for Sophia. From my impression, and from what I've heard, she comes off much more business-like, less warm and fuzzy. I respect that personality in a lot of areas--- but with my sweet and sensitive little not-even-six-year-old---- I want as warm and fuzzy as I can get. I know her. And I KNOW that a tender, kind voice and warm expression go a LONG way with her. She's so obedient and so kind. She lives her life to avoid being scolded... so when she deals with someone that uses too firm a voice or attitude... it breaks her heart. And don't get me wrong--- sadly--- I use a firm voice (sounds much better than "I yell like a madwoman") often in our home... but rarely at her... she just doesn't require it that often. And she doesn't respond to it.

It's strange, because I don't think it's fair to judge someone off of a first impression and some hearsay--- but I guess when it comes to your child, you're not so concerned with what's fair. I just want to know that I've done everything I can to put her in the best possible situation for the year. I worry she's not in it right now.

I seriously feel like I haven't been able to sleep the last two nights... I'm so hopeful and anxious to try and make a switch... but trying to figure out the best way to go about it. And of course trying to feel out Sophia and figure out what will really be best for her.

I just feel like every step forward in parenting is TERRIFYING to me. A first-grader? Are you kidding me? I never feel prepared enough, or aware enough, or old enough. And I'm thinking I never will. I feel like that principal is going to look at me like I'm a silly teen-mom who wants her daughter to get the cool teacher. I know I'm flattering myself. I realize no-one else thinks I look like a teenager still. But inside I do... I'm sure of it.

Would it really be so bad if we just ran around playing strawberry shortcake and building forts all day? I think I miss summer already.

Happy 4th

(More from this shoot over on my photo blog.)

Tonight, I was putting Sophia to bed and she asked:

"How many people are there in the world, mom?"

"About 6 billion.?" is this right? Sometimes I wonder how much wrong information I give my kids.

"Can you count to a billion?" I think she means, "you" in general, and I say

"no"

"me neither, but I know a short cut: 1,2,3,4,5,6 billion!"

Any time I go to write this stuff down, it doesn't sound nearly as cool as it did in person. Maybe it's the tone, or the body language, or the dramatic expressions. But sometimes I just wish our whole life was recorded. And that later, when I find all of that extra time, I could just sit around and listen to CD's filled with words from my children, and save my favorite moments and random cute thoughts at each age. I'm in a constant marvel.

Oh and happy 4th.

Will I ever get used to being a grown up?

I don't know when it happened, but as of today (well then I guess it happened today) my first is DONE with kindergarten.

What on earth.

This little girl could not make my heart burst with any more pride.

"When I grow up, I want to be a mommy and an astronaut."

Sometimes I find it hard just juggling mommy and wife-- and they pretty much go hand in hand. But hey----- if anyone can do it, you can.

Sophia

Dear Sophia,

You have been in kindergarten for 100 days now. I just got to have my first parent-teacher conference with Mrs. K. last week, and do you know what she said? She raved. Like I knew she would. She raved about how you are just the sweetest little girl, and how you show kindness to everyone around you. She raved about your retelling of the Gingerbread man to the class and said she wouldn't be surprised if you were on stage some day with all that drama. She said you listen SO intently and that your work ethic is remarkable. She couldn't help but grin every time she relayed a story about you... and when Mrs. C, the other teacher, walked into our meeting and saw your file, her whole face lit up and her head tilted and shoulders dropped like she just wanted to give you a big hug right then, even though you weren't there, "OH---- Sophiiiiii-aaaa. We just LOVE Sophia... I thought you might be the mother of that beautiful little girl."

It's good to see that it's not just me who gets to have their day LIT up by you. Your are such a delight for everyone around you. I could not have felt more proud.

I love to come pick you up from school, because I get to see a new cute kid sitting by you every once in a while (it's happened at least a handful of times) who says

"Hey-- Hey Sophia's mommy, I'm Sophia's best friend!" ----

"oh Sophia what's your new friends name?"

"um-- I don't know." (then they remind you and you excitedly say goodbye... then make the walk out of the lunch area waving and making silly jokes to all the kids as you pass.)

If I were five, I'd want to be your best friend to.

Your preschool teacher told me at the end of last year--- that you were the girl who would be friends with ALL types of kids-- that you never discriminated, and that you made everyone around you feel good. You might eventually need to remember their names... but I think you make all of us around you feel special.

I told you the other day that the kids at school sure seemed to like you, and you told me wisely "that's because I always say nice things to them because I don't ever want anyone to feel sad."

If only everyone realized how easy it really is to be loved. And how good it feels to uplift. Grown ups have it so backwards sometimes.

The other night, you and Mila were playing and I suddenly heard your terrified voice yelling, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-- I'm sorry, Mila, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!! I didn't mean to!!!!!!!!!" I race over to intervene, imagining Mila about to retaliate viciously for some small mistake on your part. I'm picturing her hurling herself through the air at you with fists formed, when she reaches my bedroom calmly, "Mom, Sophia took a toy RIGHT out of my hand." She says is it with so much satisfaction, while you are still screaming from your room in a panic "I didn't mean to!!!!"

And this is when I realize that all of your anxiety was about Mila coming to tell me that you'd swiped a toy. You DON'T swipe toys. You are SO good to your sister and you certainly get toys swiped out of YOUR hands. I can picture the whole thing, that you grabbed something rashly, probably threw it right back at her realizing you'd made a mistake. But it was too late, Mila actually HAD something on you. :) And she marched off to tell me with a puffed out chest full of confidence.

I explained to Mila that clearly you were sorry (since the whole neighborhood had heard your apology) and gave the toy back, so there's no problem. And assured you that I wasn't mad--- that everyone makes mistakes-- it's just important that we fix them, and you already had. No biggie... moving on... Your whole demeanor relaxed when you realized I wasn't the least bit upset. You gave me a huge hug and told me I was the best mom you EVER had. You tell me that a lot.

You do NOT like to do the wrong thing. You are your father's daughter, and it makes me so grateful for the things he teaches you girls without realizing it.

Yesterday, we were working on your sight words for school, and you took a potty-break. You were putting off coming back to continue, and finally you came in and told me, "mom, you know why I don't what to do my sight words?"

"why?"

"Because I don't want to go to first grade and have to go back into class after I eat my lunch. I just want to see you every day after I eat my lunch and come HOME with you."

Uh oh-- I sure don't want you holding yourself back because I scared you about first grade--- but I must admit, (shhh) I'm right there with you. I wonder if I'd have sent you to kinder if it occurred to me that the long, REAL school days in 1st grade would sneak up so quickly after. I'm not sure yet, if we can bare losing you for that many hours a day. My heart beats a little faster just thinking of it right now.

We'll cross that bridge later.

You make motherhood sweeter than I even dreamed.

Love,

Mom

Soph

She makes silly faces for the camera these days. I'll take it.

I sleep with our windows open, the ceiling fan on, and a fan by my bed blowing right at me. So when I wake up in the morning, whatever arm is exposed to the air is nice and cold. Sophia climbs in my bed, spoons me, and rubs that arm until it's warm.

She tells me dozens of times a day that I'm the best mommy in the world.

She tells me I look beautiful if I so much as pull my pony out. The standards are low these days.

She tells me not to pick anything up off of the floor because it will hurt my back... she'll do the floor, I just do the counters. (this is when she's in a good mood of course.)

A few times a week, she'll start this sulk that I think is going to be super annoying, but I ask her why she's sad and she tells me... I wish that family's house didn't have to burn down. (A family from school lost their home in a fire and needs help-- so we've had some conversations about it.)


She is my little peacemaker-- empathetic, compassionate, christ-like. I think this baby is just going to let her shine all the more. So grateful she came as my first.

Dancing around.... the Christmas tree....

... have a happy holiday. (That is a song right... I didn't just put it to a tune in my head as I went to write the title and convince myself it was coincidently a song.... right?)

Anyway--- We're loving December so far in our house. I think I've baked every night--- or both nights I guess. We've already managed to watch Polar Express a couple of times and we're drinking hot chocolate like it's water.

I LOVE this season.

Swinging Soph

I've gotten so bad at lugging around my camera for the every day stuff. I'm so grateful that Ross cares (as much if not more than me) about documenting life. And that he's got the newer iphone with the better camera. This was one evening in Orange County, I had a shoot and he took the girls to the beach. Wish I was there... how gorgeous is it?

The end of the season...

Today was Sophia's last soccer game. The first couple of games were rough... and the season was looking loooong.... and a little bleak. But it turned out alright after all. She's had a great attitude for the past several games and gets excited before the games. She's not the most aggressive girl on the field, but OF COURSE she's not. I don't know how she could be with her peace-maker instincts. It was fun watching her be a part of team and pushed to try something brand new..... and learn to love it even though it's "really hard work."

And there really is something JUST right about watching your husband coach your wee one. Darling. Right out of the cute-husband handbook.

He's even planning a pizza party.

You Just Never Know

(Doesn't she look excited to play? ha)

I played soccer when I was young. I LOVED it. I loved the uniforms, and the capri suns, and practices, and the oranges, and the whistle, and the smell of the grass.... I loved the competition and the community and all of it.

Some moms dread becoming a "soccer mom" ---- I've been waiting for this day. Counting down the time until Sophia was old enough to wear her over sized jersey and run around aimlessly with a soccer ball while Ross and Mila and I cheered her on from the sidelines. I envisioned her using all of that natural athletic ability and coordination I've always seen to blow us all away--- weaving in and out of the other girls, focused on the goal. It would be the start of something great. The beginning of her athletic journey as a little girl with parents that are 6'3 and 5'10. The one perk that comes from large genes.

This is how it really went.

We signed her up and Ross was all but forced into becoming the coach. He was happy to do it--- but just a little disappointed that we couldn't enjoy our first experience as AYSO parents on the sidelines, observing it all first. He hasn't played since he was like 6 --- so it was all a bit--- hazy. But they're 4 and 5-- how hard can it be?

This last Saturday was a pretty accurate depiction of what it's been so far.

Sophia told me the whole day before that she didn't want to play soccer anymore. We happily and casually tried to talk her back into it and by Friday night she was on to her "just kidding... I DO want to play soccer." (that's what she says when she changes her mind--- she was kidding all along.) So we woke up early and got her ready-- She and Ross went early since their team had pictures at 7:50. in the AM. Yikes.

Mila and I stayed back an hour and got ready. By the time we arrived and were HUNTING for a parking spot, I got the phone call from Ross that she had indeed changed her mind again after not "winning" the dribbling race, and did NOT want to play. She also wanted to cling to his leg and cry deliriously while he tried to coach the rest of the girls. It was super fun.

So Mila and I found a spot, a mere mile or so from the field (not really, but it was at least the equivalent of a mile for a 2-year-old and a back-spasming-pregnant-woman.) We booked it--- and I ended up carrying Mila for the last stretch. We got there sweaty and ready to encourage and convince Sophia just how FUN soccer was. Ross dragged her to us, and then turned around to accidentally trample an unsuspecting Mila. Nice timing. Now we had two screaming children. Now I had two screaming children. Ross has a team to coach. A team of other people's children. Lame.

I desperately console and hush and try my best to sooth and then finally bribe Mila with a luna bar and the one chair we have since she's the squeakiest wheel--- she's quiet. I move on to Sophia.

I tell her how much her team needs her and how much fun they're all having and how it's all about fun and keeping the ball away from the pink team, and how mommy played soccer when she was little, and look! Brinley's playing soccer over there-- look how happy she is.... I tell her how fast she is and how I want to see her run super fast and kick the ball in the goal--- but really... just to go play with her team and have fun---- nothin.

And then I tell her I passed a snow cone truck on my mile trek in and that she'll get one if she plays. And then she smiles... and goes in for the first time during the game.

She looks over at me every 10 seconds or so to make sure I'm proud and loud. And so I am. For about 3 minutes until Mila's screaming--- "I need to go potty I need to go potty!"

Anyone know where the nearest potty is?

Of course--- back at the entrance, that white trailer with the line out the side. So we book it to the trailer, Mila on my back, (my ACHING back) for part of it, as I keep picturing Sophia's spiral downward when she sees I'm not there to cheer her on.

I'm dripping sweat with a cheerful Mila perched over my shoulder when we get back to the huddle. It's over. We WON. Not that they keep score. But we do. 1-0..... first game yet. I think the other 3 we've lost (and I'm not kidding) about 10-1. Where do these girls come from?

BIG DEEP SIGH. It's all of 10 am. And we're both worked. I tell Ross, "soccer's SUPER fun."

I'm realizing lately that parenting just doesn't always turn out like I expected. Every week Sophia doesn't want to go--- then she puts on her good attitude for it--- then it all goes out the window and we see her most emotional 2 year old side come back out. It's wild. And we're stuck-- because Ross is coaching. And it's supposed to be fun.

I think we'll wait a couple of years before we try again---

If we try again.

Kindergarten

The first day came and went. I thought I'd document every moment of the morning... that I'd make it so special and that I'd FEEL the weight of this new milestone in her life. That we both would. I thought there'd be lots of tears.

But honestly? :/

Last week was so crazy getting ready for her party and preparing a talk I had to give on Sunday, that Sunday night came and I thought.... ahhh man.... I think she's supposed to have new clothes! I scoured her closet for something she might think was sort of new (which really just meant it was something I don't love and don't usually put her in.. defeating the purpose I guess). Luckily her backpack arrived in the mail Saturday- in the knick of time, and her converse from like two years ago still fit, since close-toe shoes are NOT something we invest in often.

We did have a special daddy-prayer. And I think she liked that more than she would have noticed new shoes.

I pulled myself out of bed as early as I THOUGHT I needed to, but we still ended up racing through sandwich-making and scarfing down a bowl of cereal (which isn't usually our breakfast of choice, so not only did I not go special, I went BELOW average.... :( )... we were, per usual, running late.

Another failed mommy-stone. (mommy milestone-- -get it?)

But we raced out the door, found street parking for one of our cars but not both, so Ross stayed with his car while the three of us girls bolted for class. She rolled her backpack (because she loves that feature) but then flung it up and on to her back when she felt slowed down by it in our scurry.

And then we got there, we signed her in.... Ross showed up in time to kiss her goodbye. We hung up her backpack and she bolted for class where they were already sitting and singing while the teacher played "Wheels on the Bus" on her guitar---

"WAIT!"--- I had to ask for my kiss goodbye, which she ran back to oblige, then quickly took off to find a seat. She wedged herself in the middle of the group but then saw Kate in front, and got up and squeezed herself into the front row. And started singing. I got a couple of pictures. Barely.

She used to say she was shy. She is not shy.

She doesn't know all of her letters, she isn't always interested in practicing them with me, and she's a little young, since she turns 5 TODAY. But she LOVES people, and activities, and a busy schedule. She loves making those around her happy and pleasing her teachers and helping kids who seem sad. She loves to do the right thing. She loves to defend ANYONE who needs defending. She is quick to apologize when she's done something wrong. Socially and emotionally, I think she's beyond ready. But I know I'm her momma.

It doesn't occur to her to be apprehensive, or anything BUT excited about it. The hours are a lot like preschool... 8:30-12:15 instead of 9-12 like last year.... she still has Kate in her class which means we have our same great carpool set up, and she's a lot closer to home. So while the teeniest part of me wanted her to miss me and cling to me and LONG for me. I know the adjustment is little or nonexistent. And she is happy as pie. Right where she should be.

And Mila and I have time to get out of the house at our speed in the morning, do the gym, and an errand or two, and then pick the girls up for an afternoon of play.

1st grade, all day long, with all of those big kids around.... now THAT is already making me nervous for next year. But for now, we are both happy as pie.

And ok I cried a little... but I'm pregnant, it's like breathing right now.

(A few of the morning)

It's ironic to me that she looks like a baby to me in this picture... looking on at her new kindergarten class.

Her first seat...

Then after creeping forward...

(This was taken on day two--- a much smoother morning.... thank goodness for a morning-carpool buddy... )