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.
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.
posted by Kate @ 11:40 AM
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