The Ending of an Era, The Turning of a Page

Call me Mother of the Year.

I'm choosing the line of a Tim McGraw song because it is exactly what I did last night. I was looking through Peanut's notebook from Beloved Teacher. It's a log between her and I, giving updates on our boy's behavior and thoughts on where he's going and needs to be.

There's a lot in there.

There's the high points of his good behavior, his gentleness toward the kids who are smaller than him. There's the day he learned how to hold his crayon properly and write his name. There's a note of congratulations from the day he became a big brother. I'm reading also his lower points: the tantrums, the hitting, the day we realized that he needed more testing and the new diagnosis.

I realize as I hold this notebook that I have the history of this year. I hold all the joys and the frustrations of parenting and teaching Peanut. And I realize as I hold this that this notebook is full. There are no more pages to be written for preschool.

You see, yesterday was Peanut's last day of preschool. Today will be the end of the year picnic. I'll attend his Annual Review meeting and meet with his Kindergarten teacher on Tuesday. And that will be that, until August.

Make no mistake, he's ready for Kindergarten. Thanks to Beloved Teacher, I'm (mostly) ready to let him go. We'll have a fun summer, and I'm looking forward to that. For today, though, I'll eat a hot dog in my son's classroom and realize that I could not have given him the growth he's achieved.

Thanks, Beloved Teacher. For everything.

Call me Mother of the Year.

Tula the Manipulator

Call me Mother of the Year.

Madam Tula has discovered a most diverting new game: Fetch. This game is best played when Tula is in her Excersaucer and Peanut (or Daddy, or other willing participant) hands her a toy. Tula then flings the toy onto the floor and looks adorable as her big brother (read: victim) picks up the toy and hands it back to her. Repeat at will. In an effort to keep Peanut as her slave, Tula is now known to babble at him as he hands her toys to fling and make him fetch.

I'm sure you've noticed my lack of participation in Fetch. I'm not sure quite how to break it to Tula that I'm not wrapped as far around her little finger as her big brother. Plus, I've played that game before with Peanut at that age. It kinda gets old after awhile.

Peanut, however, is entranced at the idea of entertaining his little sister. This means Mommy gets a break, however small, and there are no screaming or crying children. Right now, that's worth a price above rubies. I'll explain to Tula that manipulation isn't a good idea later. Much later.

And now, I've got to explain to Peanut about why gravity is not in our favor as we attempt a loop-de-loop off the couch. Please don't ask. Just know that he's not successful in this particular endeavor.

Call me Mother of the Year.

Blogging Hiatus

Call me Mother of the Year.

So I've been away for awhile. A long while. And I've missed you. I've missed having this outlet for all twelve of you to read and snicker at my adventures. The adventures are still there, and I've learned a few things over the last couple of months.

I've learned that it's physically impossible to keep from laughing as Peanut answers "What is your address?" with "Pants and a shirt, right Mommy?" It is, however, great for a teachable moment. Peanut now knows exactly where he lives and we're working on reciting his phone number.

I've learned that the Potted Plant stage is all too short. Tula is doing her level best to crawl and in the process is doing an exemplary job of rolling all over every possible flat surface. Woe betide the mommy who thought she had another couple of months to childproof. Guess why I haven't been blogging?

I've learned that I can survive a new diagnosis on Peanut. Beloved Teacher suggested that Peanut be retested as some of his behaviors don't quite fit the Asperger spectrum. She was correct- Peanut is dealing with ADHD. And, as it turns out, needs glasses something fierce. I greeted this news with a remarkable guilt trip, thank you very much. Boomer has spent much time reminding me that this is not my fault- in the firmest tones and words possible.

I've learned that there is nothing scarier than watching my baby go for x-rays. We know that nothing's wrong and there's no need to worry. But Tula's soft spot was closing too quickly, and our pediatrician wanted to make sure that there were no problems. There aren't. For the record, Tula objected furiously to the x-rays. Here's hoping the techs have recovered their hearing by now.

Most importantly, I've learned that Peanut is more than excited about starting Kindergarten, and there is nothing better than sitting beside my not-so-small son and listening to him read. Usually with his little sister on my lap. Peanut is an excellent big brother and Tula's lucky to have him. I'm the luckiest, though- I have them both.

And now that I've unburdened myself to you, there are bedtime stories to be read, kisses to be given, and two small ones to be put to bed. Peanut blows you kisses and Tula is showing off both of her teeth.

Call me Mother of the Year.