Apr
24
Last year, we went to Great Wolf Lodge and had an incredible time. And so, over the weekend, we returned…
…to the Wolf Den…
..and the water park where it became painfully obvious that I need a new camera.
Grainy Grimmetts!
Out of focus fun!
That’s a little better.
Finally, a photo that’s crisp and in focus. And you cannot see her face!
Nevertheless, fun was had by all.
Apr
19
Lucy will be starting preschool in the Fall. Can you believe it? It wasn’t so long ago that I was worrying about sending Julia off to preschool. And if what I did then was worry, there needs to be a stronger word for what I’ve been doing this time around.
Lucy + Preschool = My brain is full of worms!
The worms are kept happy and fed, however, with the knowledge that Lucy would be going to the same Montessori preschool Julia attended. We’d pretty much known that from the moment we enrolled Julia there. And while I’d had thousands of conversations about it with Dave, my mom, myself, anyone that would listen and even some who would not, I neglected to inform the school director in an official capacity, and so, for a time, we were on the wait list.
(Lucy + Preschool) / The Wait List = My head just exploded and all the worms died.
Thankfully, last week, we got the “YOU’RE IN!” call and my head was reassembled.
We made an appointment for Lucy to visit her new school on her birthday and we were both very, very excited. Until it was time to go in. Something about the words, “We’re here” sparked a revolt.
“No.”
“Huh? Sweetie, we’re here. Let’s go in!”
“No. No. I don’t want to.”
“But, we’re-but, we’ve…but…what?”
“I’m not going in.”
I hopped out of the van and ran around to open her door. She quickly turned her face away and steeled herself into her seat.
“Lucy. What’s wrong? You were so excited a few minutes ago!”
She furrowed her brow and jerked at me with gunshot grunts, a maneuver that kills my kindness and makes me bleed anger. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I imagined a giant wave of water gushing through a channel, overwhelming the banks and devouring bridges, and my daughter caught up in it, fighting against it, but rendered helpless by it’s force. Because that’s how Lucy experiences strong emotions. They tear through her brain, washing out all the pathways to communication and reason. When I picture her swept away and drowning in them, it helps me keep from getting carried along with her. It reminds me that pushing only puts her under, and I need to be sure-footed so I may offer her a steady hand strong enough that she can latch onto it and pull herself out.
“Okay, let’s think about this…” I launched into a pep talk that, I thought, was pretty inspiring. And since she’d actually started to look at me, I thought we were good to go. So, I unbuckled her seat belt and lifted her out of the car. But she wouldn’t let me put her feet on the ground. We struggled for a moment and then I sat us down on the curb, putting her my lap. She fought free and darted to the van and hid her face against the door.
“Lucy? Lucy!” I looked around to see who might be watching. “They’re expecting us.” I was getting tense. “You’re telling me you don’t want to go in?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. Okay.” I didn’t want to start things off on the wrong foot. “It’s okay. Let’s just walk around. Come on,” I said picking her up. “Let’s just walk around.”
I carried her toward the school. I pointed out some flowers, a bird, the play yard. I put her feet on the ground and took her hand. We looked around a bit. “Hey, there’s the door. Should we go in?”
She ran. I shouted. She stopped. She grunted. Oh, the grunting.
“So, Lucy, what?” I was losing it. I was slipping. “You don’t want to go to school?” I stomped.
She started to wail.
I threw my hands up. “Alright,” I screamed. I scooped her up and walked her kicking and yelling back to the van and plopped her in her car seat. I slammed the door shut and stood a moment. Another deep breath. I walked around and got into the car. I put my hands on the steering wheel.
I sat there in the same place I find myself so often with Lucy, asking, What do I do? WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo?
And the answer was the same: Wait.
Soon, the car grew quiet and she sniffed, “Mom?”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m just-I’m just scared.”
Twenty minutes later, she was standing in the center of the classroom, inviting the kids to come see the amazing tower she’d built.
She blew her teacher kisses as we left and declared, “I love this place!”
The visit was a success for Lucy and yet another reminder for me to give that kid what she needs: time. If I don’t feel like I have it, I need to find it. Imagine what she could do with it.
Apr
18
From Three to Four
by Leslie
Lucy spent the final day of her third year at the zoo with our family and friends. Here she is at the penguin photo op stop.
“Lucy, look at Mommy!”
The kid will not look at the camera. (She gets that from my dad.)
Here’s my Bear with some bears.
“Smile for me, Luc!”
See what I mean?
We had such a fantastic day! I worried a little that the next day, her actual birthday, might seem sort of ho-hum in comparison. We had done the big invite-all-your-friends-one-hundred-balloon-three-tiered-fondant-cake birthday blowout for her Three! party. And while it makes sense to me and my budget that the kids rotate who gets the big party each year, I wasn’t sure if it was making sense to Lucy. I reminded her many times that this was her laid-back birthday year and she seemed cool with that. Then I remembered my birthday and how each year, from age eleven to sixteen, my mom warned me that it wasn’t going to be this crazy, over-the-top coming of age gala event like Natalie’s dad threw for her in Girls Just Want to Have Fun and I convinced myself she was only saying that to cover up the GIANT SURPRISE PARTY she was planning. (There was never a surprise party.) But my worries melted along with my heart as Lucy and I walked hand-in-hand through the store and to the bike department to choose her birthday gift and she said, “When it’s just me and you, that’s like a birthday present.”
Sometimes life is so much simpler than my brain tries to make it.
She rode her bike until dark.
Again with the not looking at me!
Aha! “Stick your tongue out at me” works.
Then we ate cake that I ordered and bought and did not make. (And that’s okay!) She chose Lightning McQueen because, “I go fast, too!”
Oh, my heart, yes, you do.
Apr
11
Yesterday was plain awful.
by Leslie
I don’t want to talk about yesterday. But, I will give you five reasons why today is better than yesterday.
1. I did not get angry and throw anyone’s breakfast on the floor.
2. Lucy didn’t ruin anyone’s birthday.
3. Lucy didn’t ruin anyone’s music class.
4. I haven’t been injured, especially in the face.
5. I now know how to fist pump properly.
(You, too.)
Apr
9
Back to life…back to reality.
by Leslie
Oh, the Monday after Spring break. I needed a cappuccino just to face it. But McDonald’s has stopped making cappuccino for me and instead, for twenty additional calories, gave me a less tasty and only moderately satisfying latte. But you get what you get and you don’t get upset when you limit your hot caffeinated beverage options to that which can be supplied via a drive-through within ten miles of home. So, a lackluster latte. Spring Break was spectacular, however, and I will give you some reasons why.
1. No alarm clock. We only slept about half an hour later than our normal wake up time, but wow, what a difference that half hour made. Also, the not having to immediately rush to be on time felt pretty good, too. Leisure! I’m in love with it. My countdown to summer officially begins now.
2. Lunch and an afternoon of play at Lake Park. We used to go to Lake Park all the time when Julia was in preschool. It was where Dave and I ran our first 5K. We love Lake Park! I had forgotten just how much.
3. A play date with new friends who are warm and friendly and fun and inspiring. Sidenote: It seems all it takes to make me cry is a two month old baby in my house. Because my girls were two month old babies once. And I may never have a two month old baby again. But I do have some chocolate cheese in my refrigerator.
4. An Easter egg hunt with old friends – the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen close up and their children. I have no idea how they look so good all the time. I am definitely the “one of these things” in that Not Like The Others song with that group. But I enjoy being with them too much to let it keep me away.
5. Becoming the Just Dance house champion. I totally mean to brag when I tell you no one NO ONE under my roof can beat me.
6. A day at the Akron Zoo.
7. Getting to watch some random movie that just happened to be on, from start to finish, simply because I had the time and no will to move from the couch. It was called I’m With Lucy starring Elliott from E.T. and Monica Potter, who I am pretty sure is actually Julia Roberts either cloned or perhaps time traveling from the future.
8. Making dandelion crowns and jewelry.
9. Letting Julia stay up past her bedtime to eat ice cream sandwiches and watch Toddlers and Tiaras with me.
10. Coloring Easter eggs.
I cannot explain why, but this is my favorite picture of Dave, ever.
Stuff I Do
-
Stuff You Should Do
You know, Stuff.
