Firsts

There have been a lot of new things happening over here. If it's not one thing, it's another. And that makes it oh so difficult for me to get to the computer. Those of you that can blog through chaos? My hat's off to you. Because I'd rather nap. Or whine with my face in a pillow.

So. Today. Today's the First Day of Kindergarten.

How'd that happen?

And, due to this whole staggered start thing that they have here, today is the only day this week that Playette will go all day. On Monday, we all went to have a 30 minute meeting with the teacher.

Actually, to my dismay, that turned into 45 minutes with the teacher, teacher's assistant, Assistant Principal, nurse, Speech Therapist, Special Educator, and...I think that's it. I really, truly just wanted it to be an average meeting like every other student gets since our goal is full inclusion and all, but...I guess I just have to learn to get over the fact that, no matter what, we're "speshul."

We talked about all kinds of things and of course I forgot to ask the questions that really mattered to me. I was overwhelmed, in part, due to having just received Playette's eligibility paperwork from our last school district before we left the house. Amongst those documents were some testing results that had me so shook up. Basically, I was left wondering if she could even function in a typical classroom based on how low some of the scores were. I mean, I know she is not a number, but I dare you to see, in writing, someone talk about how "low-functioning" your child is and not take it to heart, if only for a minute. And then you wonder what you could have done more of (therapy? flash cards?), what you should have done less of (television? signing?). It goes on and on. And it helps no one.

So, yeah. Testing can EAD.

(If you're trying to figure out what that means and you're coming up with something crass? That's it.)

Bottom line, I was absolutely not at my best during that teacher (et al.) meeting.

Aaaaand, even though this makes me sound like a total dip, when I was getting my eyebrows separated on Sunday, the lady doing them, who used to be a Special Education Aide at this school, was all, "As long as she doesn't have Mrs. _____, she'll be fine. She's the worst."

Of course, I couldn't remember the teacher's name right then and now all I can do is swear up and down that the name she said is the teacher we have and...ugh. It's not like eyebrow lady's experience is the gospel, but still. I don't need thoughts like that rolling around in my head. Again, it helps no one.

I've considered asking the local parents group which Kindergarten teachers are preferred out of the five the school has, but I don't want to walk down that road. Each kid is different. All parents are different. Someone else's bad time may be just what Playette needs. I have to give this teacher a chance and stay open-minded.

At least for today. And maybe Tuesday.

Kidding. Sort of. Maybe.

I took some pics and I'll share those next time. She was super cute and so happy to ride the bus again. I really hope things are going well!

(But she's been less than angelic lately, so...um...I'm scared that they're going to kick her out.)

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Speaking of my "angel", we had our first expression of serious distaste for her brother last night. I watched in horror as she looked down, raised her foot, and stomped on his hand as he was getting in his tummy/scoot time. WTH?! I was livid.

And then, after we got them both down to bed, BD and I went downstairs to watch TV for a bit. When we came back up, we found Playette knocked out in our bed.

That has never happened before.

Pre-school anxiety, maybe?

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What else?

Oh! Dez has his first teeth! Two little crookeds (my fault) in the bottom center. How typical of him! He's 4.5 months old today and they showed up about a week ago. Super cute.

I swear he really exists, y'all. I'll throw in a couple of proof pics in the next post.

Also, I took him to an open call for a diaper package shoot two weeks ago (don't judge me). I will let you know how that turns out.

One thing I do know? I'm not cut out to be a stage mom.

Bonus: He got paid in diapers and wipes just for showing up. Thankyouverymuch.

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This is the first week my whole family has lived in this house.

Big ups to single parents. I hate being alone. But duty calls and BD has to answer, so...yeah. I'm enjoying this week.

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I ran the twice this past week. 3.6 miles and 3.25 miles. That sucked. But I'm not giving up and am seeing some improvement. Once Tuesday rolls around and school starts for real-for real, I will be grabbing the jog stroller right after the bus comes and making this thing a habit again. My first race is at the end of October and I have a lot of work to do between now and then. Thankfully, my friend from the California days lives nearby and is training for the same race. The last time we were together both of our girls were babies and now we both have little boys. So we have lots to catch up on while we huff and puff.

I still haven't bothered to look for found my 30 Day Shred DVD yet.

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There must be more, but my brain is a sieve, so I'm off to help BD put up curtains in Dez's room.

Don't go getting impressed or anything. I want them up for the kids because I'm hoping that blackout curtains will help them sleep a little longer since their rooms face east.

There's a method to my domestic madness.

Apple Jacked

*exhale*

First, can I just say this?

Hello, Computer & The People Who Live Inside. I've missed you.

I think when I posted last time, I was sitting in my car, taking a breather while the baby slept.

Somehow, and I'm not asking questions because I'm GRATEFUL, there is no crying or whining or needs that must be met RIGHTTHISSECOND. So here I am.

Whoever allowed Tangled to come on just as Gnomeo and Juliet was ending? My sanity thanks you. Also, big ups to the creator of the baby swing.

Don't judge me.

These last couple of weeks have been ROUGH. And I don't see myself as a weak person. I've been through some stuff. But, woochile. More move drama than you can count plus husband being away plus baby growth spurt plus bored kid plus all of us being sick plus plus plus? It's just...a lot.

One sec. I've been beckoned for snack replenishment...

Done.

Maybe that's my cue to move on.

Ok, so yesterday, as I was desperately trying to sneak in a few more minutes of nap, Playette came to me and asked for an apple. I told her to wait and I would get it for her.

Since when does she like apples anyway? No rush, I thought.

But then I opened my eyes all the way and realized that she had left the room. So I walked down the hall and she wasn't in her room either. I went downstairs to the kitchen and found this crime scene:

Open fridge door. Open fruit drawer. KNOCKED OVER MOSCATO (like I can even imagine when I'll get a chance to finally have a glass). Bag of apples on floor.

Well.

I had a choice. Get mad? Or be glad that she made it work all on her own?

I shrugged it off. Bigger fish to fry and all.

But where was she?

I followed the sound of the booming television.

She turned that on herself. And, trust me, that's complicated. BD wouldn't have it any other way.

There she was, standing in front of it, eating her hard-earned apple. 

At least she didn't wake the baby.

So I asked if she wouldn't mind (I can't even imagine my mother ever using terms like this - heh) if I maybe washed the apple off for her? Because the thought of her eating that dirty apple was giving me the dry heaves. She consented and then I saw this:

Which cracked me up. Because she has such teeny little teeth and all her big girl efforts only got her this far.

So I washed it off and sliced it prettily (do you have one of these?) and all was well in our world.

For like five minutes.

Which is good these days!

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By the way, that workout/weight loss stuff? Ummm...yeah. Last week was a wash. I am really looking forward to starting again though. I did step on the scale over the weekend and apparently exhaustion and accidental starvation are working in my favor, numbers-wise.

If given the choice, I'd rather be strong than skinny though.

The End of an Era

We've missed a lot of celebrations this summer. Milestones. Things that, if life hadn't been so hectic, I would have liked to have taken the time to acknowledge.

Playette's birthday, my birthday, our wedding anniversary, etc.

Today another one hit me: Playette
Is done with her daycare. Like, forever.

Even though last school year she participated in the Pre-K program, it was still at the same location with people who have been great with her, and us, for the last year plus. She loved her teachers and the friends she made there and they loved her back.

But the problem is that our movers jerked us around a bit (who packs a truck that needs maintenance anyway?!) and Playette came home with a fever on Tuesday.

That meant she stayed home on Wednesday and instead of her last day being Thursday or Friday like we had planned, we were told that our household goods would be delivered early and we jumped to rush and leave town in time.

As it turns out, no rush was necessary and we spent another two nights In a hotel.

Most importantly, she never got to say goodbye.

There were no hugs or tears or lunch for the staff or (as I considered one day when I was feeling both extremely grateful and ambitious) a really good cake with the center's logo on top.

I mean, I wasn't going to make it, but I would have ordered the heck out of it from a really good bakery.

I really do feel bad about the whole scenario. But it was all such a blur at the end. I'm still kinda in shock.

We moved.

Again.

I hope that I haven't (further) traumatized my child.

I'm going to start trolling playgrounds and find her some friends.

That's totally normal, right?

About Week 3...

Ok, so before it becomes time to talk about Week 4, I should address this.

It was a difficult week. (Not as rough as this one, but I'm getting ahead of myself.)

I still got in my three runs, but I fell one workout short on 30DS. I realized that on Sunday, as we were heading out to spend some time with friends one last time before moving. By the time we got home, even I, queen of the late night workout, couldn't eek one out.

And then Monday came and instead of squeezing in an extra, I accidentally let the movers pack my weights. I didn't think to pull them from the office until it was too late. womp, womp

I vow to pick up where I left off though.

We are officially no longer residents of of the old place and once we're settled in the new place, I will plan out some routes to run and clear a space in the basement for my mat so that Jillian can work her evil magic on me again.

I'm not giving up.