Week Fifteen: Falling

It happened. I finally got nostalgic for pregnancy. Okay well, not really. But it's fall again and I'm reminded of last fall when we found out we were expecting Will, and I can't believe that I'm finally at the point that was unimaginable last year. Will is really here, and is such a part of our lives now, it's so hard to imagine a time when he wasn't even here. So, it's not to say that I want to be pregnant again, or god, that I even miss it (I most certainly do not), but I think fall will now always remind me of those first few months of munching on snacks to ease the nausea and trying to stay focused on class instead of daydreaming about babies (my efforts were futile, by the way).

I love fall. There really isn't enough of it in Pullman. Usually, there's a good week of wearing sweaters in the crisp, cool, fall air before you have to say "who am I kidding?" and break out the winter coat. Usually by Halloween it's below freezing, and it's very hot well into September. But I still love fall here, even though this year it feels so strange not to be sitting in class bored to tears while each professor goes over their syllabus (can we just collectively agree that if we in fact made it into college, we are in fact capable of reading a two page document?). But anyway, there are apples and tomatoes at the farmer's market again, and the wind has picked up, so it's undeniably fall again.

And Emily has survived her first week of kindergarten. I guess for now I'll put aside my worries about her not making friends, because she seems to be doing fine. It's so hard to get any real information out of her about her school day, but she appears to be happy and relaxed when she comes home, so what more could I want?

Emily has also come out of her shell a bit recently, wich I attribute to starting school. Last week we had our annual-start-of-the-school-year picnic at our apartment complex, and Slinky the Clown was there making animal balloons. And if you happen to not be from Pullman, Slinky the Clown is an old grandpa of a clown that makes appearances at practically every event around town. Well, Emily's first balloon was popped by one of thos prickly weeds in the grass, so she went up to the Clown by herself and asked him for another. We then spent the rest of the weekend taking the balloon away because Emily was compulsively putting it in her mouth, but that is another story.

And then there's Will, who seemingly has adopted something resembling a schedule lately. He likes to go to bed for the night around 8, and would probably stay asleep for the night if Ian and I didn't wake him up occasionally by talking about how perfect he is. I try to rationalize our self-indulgent behavior by claiming that Will has the rest of his life to sleep in another bed, room, or even house than ours, so if he wants to be with us now, who am I to stop him? He's so small, and the world is so big and scary, and this time we all have here, together, is so short.

There are times that I wonder what life would be like, had I not become a parent at such a young age. But I quickly remember how lucky I am to have Emily, Ian, and Will come into my life so soon, so I didn't waste much time without them.

Week Fourteen: On the Loose

Some might think that fllying with a five-year-old and a three-month-old all by me onesie is ambitious. But I realized as Will flirted with the ladies in the seats behind us and Emily rocked out to my Mp3 player, that I totally made it look easy. In fact, I was able to just shrug and smile as we exited the plane and everyone on board commented on how well behaved my kids were. It made up for the inward collective groan when we boarded, I guess. So okay, it ws only an hour flight, but these kids were so great, they actually made flying as enjoyable as it can possibly be (I still tightened my grip on Will everytime the plane jumped a little, and my palms were dripping with sweat during landing and takeoff).

So why would anyone be crazy enough to fly with two small children? To go to the ocean of course! Actually we had some extra tickets left over from flying to California in January and had to use then before the end of the year, so my mom planned a trip to Ocean Shores since I hadn't even seen the ocean since I was about seventeen. Too long, in my opinion. Living in land-locked Pullman makes me really miss the damp salty air, and to get to see Emily playing in the surf was amazing.

Will enjoyed the beach as well. He was pretty much parked under an umbrella the whole time, but he's such a fantastic sport about traveling and everything, he's just happy to have someone hold him (and some diaper-free time).

And if just traveling with two kids wasn't ambitious enough, we also attempted to get some professional pictures of my kids and Sara's son, Evan, together. Between Evan trying to escape every chance he could, Emily not wanting to wear the cute cordory jacket Sara and I picked out to match the Boys' pants, and Will not wanting much to do with the whole business, it's a wonder we got any pictures at all. But even if Will isn't smiling in any of them, I'm so glad we captured the moment. They grow so fast! It was just a year ago that Sara was pregnant with Evan, and Will was just a tiny mass of cells. I actually called Sara when she was in the hospital after Evan was born to tell her I was pregnant!

But, although I can hardly stand to think about it, let alone write about it, we did have a major milestone this week, which as you know if you've been reading this blog, we've been anticipating for a long time. Gulp, Kindergarten.

It's hard to explain, but I think any parent that has watched their child go off on that big school bus, or probably driven off in a their own car understands the feeling. It would be like an extension of me, say, my arm, just unattached itself and went off on its merry way. And your heart swells with pride and aches with loss at the same time.

But really, I am mostly so, so proud of our little girl, who so bravely marched on the bus this morning and said hi to the bus driver. Then when I saw her sitting on the bus as it pulled up after school, her little round face trying not to smile too big when she saw us waiting for her, I knew that she had survived, and more importantly was proud of herself.

To reference a writer I'm sure I've mentioned before, Catherine Newman, says in her book, that having children, it's like your heart is actually walking outside your body.

Indeed.

Week Thriteen: The Circle Game

It's that time of year again. I notice as I drive to Safeway this weekend and a little Honda driven by a blonde young girl tailgates my car as I creep along at 25 miles per hour (which actually is the speed limit). The Hotels all have "no vancancy" signs flashing, and as you drive through campus, it is buzzing with pre-school year energy. The students are back, and for the first time, I'll not be joining them up on campus.

I'm amazed at how quickly I've disconnected from the school here, and it's not like I'm really missing the undergradute experience now. I guess that for four years I've identified myself as "student" and well, now I'm just not. So what is my identity? Mom? I guess in a few months I'll be able to say law student, but that's a ways off.

It is so hard to always be on the brink of change, in limbo, waiting for life to start. Such is the nature of being a "student". I have to constantly remind myself to enjoy today rather than look forward to tomorrow. This is it. This tedious but wonderful existence. Sure, there will be a day when we have the big house on the hill with a yard and two cars parked in the garage, but sometimes I just focus too much on the future, but then again that kind of thinking is what got me through the last five years of living in student housing, late nights studying, and shopping at Winco.

Not that I don't enjoy staying home with Will and Emily. This time, although it puts our plans on hold, is truely priceless. And it is wonderful to not have to juggle undergraduate classes with applying to law school and taking the LSAT, which is proving to be very time consuming. And I can honestly that this phase in our lives has taught us to never take anything for granted, appreciate the things we do have, and enjoy the simple company of each other. But enough about me. This is supposed to be about the kids, right?

These kids, it's cliche, but they are truely the light of our lives. Emily, while asserting her defiant side, she can't help but be sweet (even if that's not her intention). When she's just so, so angry at us, she racks her little brain for the worst insult she can throw at us, and it's usually something like "I don't even like you!!!". It's really just so cute, I can hardly stand it, it's the worst she can come up with. And although she has been acting up lately with all the arguing, I don't really think there is a mean bone in her body.

She starts kindergarten next week, but I think I've come to terms with it. I just wish so much that I can always be there to protect her, make sure she's not picked on, always has a friend to sit with, doesn't get ignored by the teacher. Of course I can't, and probably wouldn't even if I could. I'm guessing this is the nature of parenthood, and it will only get worse as she becomes more and more independent and the possibility for pain becomes greater.

It's the same with Will. He's still so small and, well, not mobile. It's great. Set him on the bed and he just lies there and kicks his feet happily. And stares at his hands. I swear toys are wasted ont his kid, he studies his little clenched fist like it's the Mona Lisa. And his expression seems to say, "Aha hand! We meet again!". I just dread the day when he discovers the bookcase...

But I try to learn from Will. While he is constantly testing out his limits and attempting new skills, he is also content to lie on the floor kick his legs, wave his arms wildly in the air, and hey, if someone stops to talk to him? Even better.

Week Twelve: Baby Warrior and Emily Weirder

Now that Will is twelve weeks old (I had actually just written five weeks and had to go back and change it, yikes!), he's become quite a handsome baby. Emily was cute, so I'm not taking anything away from her, but they're just so different looking, it really is hard to compare. Emily has fair skin, beautiful big blue eyes, and a perfect little rosebud mouth, she is and was just so feminine. Will is also so sweet-looking in his own way. He has his dad's perfect almond-shaped eyes, and his lashes curl up just like the gerber baby. He also has these cute points on his upper lip (I call them batman lips), and his hair is really started to grow. I pretty much can waste an entire day just staring at him.

And if it wasn't bad enough, being so cute, he's also becoming even more vocal, squealing and laughing with delight, so as you can guess, it's entirely impossible to ignore him for one second. Three months is such a delicious age.

Will finally got (some) control over those hands of his! If you knew him, you'd realize what an achievement this is, he's been working so hard at it for the last twelve weeks. Yesterday Ian was holding a rattle out for Will and he grabbed onto it, and his expression was just priceless. He held the rattle up in victory and smiled his biggest smile as if to say "Aha! I've got you now!". He then proceeded to mouthing the rattle vigorously. He's also grown quite fond of his hanging toy from his carseat, and he yells at it whenever it is in view. Ian calls it his Viking battle cry, and even I have to admit he's just such a fierce baby.

Will also sort of played his first game last weekend. He was lying in bed and Ian pulled the sheet up over Will's head. Will would then pull it down by extending his arms under the sheet. He was quite pleased with himself and his new game, and I was really suprised that he could play such an advanced game at this age (although I'm his mother, so I do have quite a bias).

Emily, is also acting quite grown up with her latest interest - tattoos. Yep, the five year old is obsessed with drawing "tattoos" all over herself, me, and having me "tattoo" her. It's a little unconventional, but hey, both Ian and I both have tattoos, so we're not exactly conservative on that front, not that we're paticularly conservitive on any front. The funniest part is that Emily has to be very dramatic in this new pretend game. I have to squint my eyes, and she asks "does it hurt a lot?" and I have to say "Oh yes". So I have my little aspiring tattoo artist, and I can't really leave the house with all my "tattoos" up and down my legs and it's 93 degrees outside. But this kind of pretend I can actually stand, since it usually involves me sitting and getting drawn on, rather than the usual mind-numbing role playing with little plastic toys. Although all this pretending has made me think of getting another real tattoo - it's been over five years since my last one, so I'm starting to feel the itch.

Emily is also expanding her interest in geography. Ian's parents gave her a globe for her birthday. This morning we were looking at it together and she pointed right at Greenland and said "That's Greenland, it's cold there". Wow, this kid. She's been a little obsessed with geography for a good six months now, and if you ask her, she knows where well over 25 states are exactly, and knows she lives in the "mited states". I know for a fact that beyond Washington, Oregon, and California, the rest of the country was hazy for me well into my later elementry years.

Sometimes when she says some things Ian and I think "Oh God, she's going to be the nerd" (we quickly console ourselves by remembering the alternatives she could be). But she does make a great "rock and roll face", and likes to preten, and given her current interest in tattoos, perhaps everything will balance out in the end.

Sometimes I wonder how weird these kids will turn out, how much of that is our doing, and how much was pre-determined. I guess I'm not the first to ask that question, and we'll probably never know. But of course if you know Ian and me, you'd also know there wasn't much hope for the kids to escape nerdiness anyway. Gotta go play World of Warcraft now, he he, snort!

Week Eleven: Big Kids

Emily is finally five. Just ask her and she'll proudly hold out, count 'em, five fingers. The night before her bithday on Friday she came in our room and I couldn't resist one last snuggle with my four-year-old and I said, "Ohhhhh, she's never going to be four again!". To which Emily replied, "I'm kind of tired of being four". Oh, okay then. At least Will still snuggles me willingly (Or at least he can't really protest at this point). Although I keep telling him not to get any bigger, just to stay small. Then every morning he wakes up one day older, and I'll think, okay, just this much bigger, but that's it.

I can't believe that in five years Will will be that big. But he will be before I know it. And Emily will be ten! Yikes. Of course my own mother probably still can't get over the fact that I have kids of my own, such is probably the nature of parenthood. Sigh!

These two kids really are starting to form a bond. Emily worries about every little thing Will does, and asks everyday how old he is (eleven weeks old honey, same as yesterday). And I think Will is on his way to idolizing Emily. Good thing she appreciates the attention I guess. I don't recall caring nearly as much about my brother when we were these ages (we're five years apart too). But I guess that's just Emily's nature, she's really very sweet and caring. We went to get their picture taken last weekend and while the two month old was smiling away and cooperating beautifully, Emily was so concerned about holding Will, that each picture of her looked like she was sick. It captured the true moment I guess, but so much for the picture perfect sibling photo.

The countdown to kindergarten has begun, and I'm secretly looking forward to having half the day with only one child. Ian comes home from working and asks what we did all day, I'm kind of at a loss - uh, held the baby?. I know he appreciates what I do - but I'm not used to having nothing to show for my day. Well not that two happy children are nothing, but you know. Okay, well, one happy kid and one tempermental five year old.

Ah, and in other news, Will is an enormous baby, just as we suspected. He had his two month checkup this last week, and he weighs a whopping 14lbs and 14oz. He's in the 95% for both height and weight, which we've been bragging about to all our family and friends. It's a weird thing though, you'd think the way we parents use those growth charts, soceity actually desired huge tall people. Then when you meet someone with a small baby, it's like they failed some test or something. Aww, only 60th percentile? Too bad, maybe you'll do better next time.

But we love our fat, tall baby, and our big big five year old.