Our daughter starts Kindergarten in a week. She is thrilled as can be and there is no doubt she is ready, but I am a nervous wreck. I don't want to send her off into this world where I can't see her and shield her and protect her. Just the thought of dropping her off on her first day has been giving me serious anxiety. Yesterday we went school supply shopping. Since we live in a state that doesn't value education and the budgets have been slashed we got a list PAGES long for supplies for not only our own kids but other kids in the class and teacher supplies. Lovely. anyway, that mission is accomplished, she has school clothes and once I get her new tennis shoes she will be set.
When my husband and I first moved here we took into consideration the school district and the particular schools our future children would be zoned to attend. A year ago we got rezoned. Either elementary school would be fine; they are both good schools but we were partial to the previous school for a couple of reasons. So, we applied for a variance and crossed our fingers. We were set on her attending this school. Then we found out they were having a large Kindergarten class and they would be unlikely to approve any open enrollment kids, of which our daughter is one, so we started getting ourselves used to the idea that she'd attend the school in which we are zoned.
For someone like me who plans out everything far in advance the not knowing has been killing me all summer. We were supposed to find out by this past Monday if she would be approved. When we called they hadn't made a decision about open enrollment until they finalized numbers for those kids who actually lived within the boundaries. Then today I got a call from the Principal who said that he was hoping to get approval for another Kindergarten class at which point our daughter would be approved and then that would significantly drop the class size to even smaller than the other school. But he won't know for sure until Monday. She starts the following Monday. Can I just say that I am stressed.
On top of that I am hot, very pregnant, and HOT!!! I have 30 days until this baby is born and it just feels like there are so many changes happening all at once. Any good, calming vibes you could send my way would be appreciated.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Five on the Fourth
My daughter takes after my mom in that she loves hotels. I'm not just talking about enjoys staying at them, but seriously LOVES them. And she's picky. She's a 4 star or 5 star resort type of gal. Travelling once we stayed at just a local hotel we found and she was like, "Ooh, this place is gross. Did you see how small the pool is. I bet they don't even have room service." Yeah, definitely my mom.
Anyway, her birthday is the 4th of July and since we had her party last weekend when our family was in town we had no real plans for the actual day of her birthday. Lo and behold she asked if we could go stay at a resort. She knows how to work it too. "Mom, you won't have to cook and you can swim so you won't be hot and you can just lay in the hotel bed and rest because you're pregnant." Master manipulator that one!
Anyway, I pricelined a room and got a 4 star resort in Scottsdale for $60/night. I took that as God's way of saying we were meant to spend the weekend in luxury. It was heaven. Large, comfortable room. Fun, happening, pool area. Nice dinners in Scottsdale each night. And two kids who didn't fight AT ALL. In the midst of all this fun my "baby" turned FIVE. FIVE! I can hardly believe it. It literally seems like just a year or so ago that I gave birth to her. Yet, here I am 8 months pregnant with child number 3. Where did the time go?
Anyway, her birthday is the 4th of July and since we had her party last weekend when our family was in town we had no real plans for the actual day of her birthday. Lo and behold she asked if we could go stay at a resort. She knows how to work it too. "Mom, you won't have to cook and you can swim so you won't be hot and you can just lay in the hotel bed and rest because you're pregnant." Master manipulator that one!
Anyway, I pricelined a room and got a 4 star resort in Scottsdale for $60/night. I took that as God's way of saying we were meant to spend the weekend in luxury. It was heaven. Large, comfortable room. Fun, happening, pool area. Nice dinners in Scottsdale each night. And two kids who didn't fight AT ALL. In the midst of all this fun my "baby" turned FIVE. FIVE! I can hardly believe it. It literally seems like just a year or so ago that I gave birth to her. Yet, here I am 8 months pregnant with child number 3. Where did the time go?
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Sick Boy
My kids are tell it like it is type of people. Pretty much they are miniature versions of me. I don't sugar coat, I don't mince words, and I don't waste words (although some may argue this blog does just that). My kids are the same way. I love that about them...even though at times it can be highly embarrassing.
My son has been telling me for a few days now that he is a "sick boy." He wouldn't tell me that unless he was. He doesn't fake illness for attention or make things up for the fun of it. The problem was that he didn't seem sick. He wasn't acting sick. In fact, he seemed perfectly fine, so while I acknowledged his continued assertions that he was a "sick boy" inside I was wondering what the heck he was talking about.
Then yesterday he pooped his body weight in a yellow mustardy color poop that reminded me of a breast-fed newborn. I had to light every candle in the house just to faintly get rid of the smell. Putrid doesn't begin to describe it. I guess he was sick.
But today he woke up seemingly fine so after dropping my daughter off at Vacation Bible School for the morning I took him grocery shopping. Suddenly he starts ripping these loud, horrendous farts throughout the store all the while telling me that his stomach hurt. We were standing in the dairy section getting milk and eggs and yogurt when he farts so loudly I swear people thought it was me. To deflect the attention I said, "Wow, buddy are you okay?" He says, "When you have to toot you have to toot. There's nothing you can do about it." The old lady next to us about peed through her depends she was laughing so hard. She then says, "Ain't that the truth."
Anyway, he spent the remainder of the day sick as a dog. I guess he really was a "sick boy."
My son has been telling me for a few days now that he is a "sick boy." He wouldn't tell me that unless he was. He doesn't fake illness for attention or make things up for the fun of it. The problem was that he didn't seem sick. He wasn't acting sick. In fact, he seemed perfectly fine, so while I acknowledged his continued assertions that he was a "sick boy" inside I was wondering what the heck he was talking about.
Then yesterday he pooped his body weight in a yellow mustardy color poop that reminded me of a breast-fed newborn. I had to light every candle in the house just to faintly get rid of the smell. Putrid doesn't begin to describe it. I guess he was sick.
But today he woke up seemingly fine so after dropping my daughter off at Vacation Bible School for the morning I took him grocery shopping. Suddenly he starts ripping these loud, horrendous farts throughout the store all the while telling me that his stomach hurt. We were standing in the dairy section getting milk and eggs and yogurt when he farts so loudly I swear people thought it was me. To deflect the attention I said, "Wow, buddy are you okay?" He says, "When you have to toot you have to toot. There's nothing you can do about it." The old lady next to us about peed through her depends she was laughing so hard. She then says, "Ain't that the truth."
Anyway, he spent the remainder of the day sick as a dog. I guess he really was a "sick boy."
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