15 September 2014

New Milestones {Preschool Bound}

Today was Kaydence's first day of Pre-Kindergarten. She has been anticipating this day for a few months now as we have school shopped and prepared for its inevitable appearance. I have seen pictures and heard stories of the weepy mom who cried the minute she got to the car after dropping off her teary-eyed and clingy preschooler for the first day. I have been trying to prepare myself for this milestone and the flood of emotions that would come with it. I already knew this was going to be hard for me. I knew I was going to miss her presence for the 3 1/2 hours she was gone and I knew I was going to cry.

But I didn't

I didn't cry. It wasn't hard for me. I didn't 'miss' her presence.

As we stood outside of her preschool classroom. I held her hand. I told her to be nice to the other children, however, don't allow them to bully her. I told her to share, to be kind, to be patient and most of all to have fun. I told her that this was going to be a great experience and that she was going to love it. She nodded at all my commands and remarks with nervous excitement in her eyes. When we entered her classroom I signed her in and watched her timidly wash her hands and sit down in a circle at the front of the classroom, as instructed. I stood and watched other parents desperately trying to peel the tight grasps of their screaming child off their arm. I listened to her preschool teacher calmly tell us parents that it is fine for us to stay for a bit to allow the children to acclimate and I watched the relief on the faces of some of those concerned parents who had hoped she would say that. I watched and listened, and then I did the complete opposite.

I quietly signed to Kaydence "Mommy is leaving now. I will see you soon. I love you." She nodded in agreement, signed 'I love you' back, and after giving her one last big smile I walked out. I was the only parent to do so.

There was no anxiety, no fear, no sadness, no worry. I didn't cry when I got to the car and or when I got home.

You see, the truth is, I welcome with new milestone of our life. A few hours of no sibling rivalry. A few hours of only being pulled in two directions instead of three. A few hours to grocery shopping without filing the cart with kids before I even put a single item in it. A few more hours to do laundry. A few hours to run (since my jogging stroller only holds two). A few hours to accomplish things that would have been much more difficult with three instead of two.

Now, don't get me wrong. I adore my little girl! I couldn't imagine my life without the amazing little person who made me the mom I am today and I truly enjoy playing, interacting, and being around the wonderful little spirit she is. I am not "happy" that she is gone. I am happy that she is being fully engaged, entertained, taught, cared for and fed in a safe environment while I have a few hours to get things done that would have not allowed me to do all of those things with her. I feel as though it is a win, win for both of us.

When I picked her up, I asked her if she was nervous when I left and if she missed me. Her response:

"Nope I wasn't nervous and I didn't miss you at all!"

I guess we are both in similar places :-)

10 September 2014

Little Words

Oh, this blog of mine.

There is no writers block, for I am not a writer. I have just had few words lately.

Life is busy these days. And while busy is certainly not bad, it is most definitely exhausting.

My mind is full, yet I have nothing to say. The past few months I have just been riding this river of life. Some moments are raging rapids in which I feel like I am desperately fighting to stay afloat of my raft. While other days, I feel like I am riding an inter-tube down a peaceful and quiet lazy river.

I have slowly and unconsciously began to detach myself from the cyber world of ours. Living more in reality and not so much the fantasy of social media.

Social media, the place in which I have 150 "friends" but 98% of them don't even know my favorite color. The place in which I determine how popular I am by how many people liked my pictures. The place in which I determine my happiness by how much "stuff" I have in comparison to others. The place in which I gauge my parenting skills, based on the articles presented in Huffington Post-Parents.

I find myself more and more disgusted in what I see on my social media sites lately. People desperately seeking the validation of others. The smiling faces of well behaved children, never the screaming faces of the tantrum throwing toddler. Pictures of dreamy places we only wish for in our dreams. Boastful comments and post, meant to attract the attention of others while hopefully validating the account holder.

I find myself typing a FB post or editing an Instagram photo and then immediately asking myself "What do I hope to expect from this?"

"Why I am I posting the 300th picture of my beautiful view?"
because I like to hear people tell me how beautiful it is.

"Why I am posting a picture of most recent 10 mile run?"
because I can't wait for someone to tell me how amazing and determined I am.

"Why am I posting another picture of the thermometer and my sad son's face?"
because I want someone to feel sorry for me.

...because I want attention.

So I have scaled back. Less attention, more humbleness. No longer are my 'running backdrop' photos a moment for me to brag. I take the photo and then I savor this special time that I have watching the sunset into the Puget Sound while listening to the sound of my rapidly beating heart and deep heavy breaths. Because when I don't post that photo suddenly this moment becomes something sacred. Just me and my run. No attention. Nobody will even know of this moment, but I forever will. And that is special.

So as I reset and reassess, I find myself with little words. While others are desperately seeking more Instagram followers, more picture 'likes', more Facebook friends, more Youtube subscribers, more attention; I am realizing that I am just fine being nobody. Because being a "nobody" means I don't have to try so hard to be somebody I'm not.