Lily's First Day of Kindergarten

We moved from out of state while I was pregnant with Emma.  Though I was very tempted by a job offer I had waiting for me at the time, we decided that I would concentrate on settling us into our new home and growing our little one, knowing that I planned to stay home once she was born.  I did just that and spent the next years raising precious her and her priceless little sis.  I have now been a stay at home mom for eight years.  Eight years!  It has been more fulfilling and exhausting and rewarding and depleting and overwhelmingly beautiful and absolutely challenging than I ever could have imagined eight years ago.  I cannot even begin to put into words the gratitude I have for landing a job as a stay at home mom.  It has not been easy, but it has been an absolute gift to me.  It is my goal to pour so much love into my girls that they will leave our home someday with a natural desire to pour out love on others.  I am far from perfect.  We have messy moments aplenty, but each day has truly been a gift.  I can honestly say that I love to be with my girls, and I am beyond thankful that they feel the same about me.

Parents have lots of goals for their children’s character development.  I have tried to teach mine from the beginning to be good sharers.  For the most part, I think they are.  Now, I need to work on myself.  For me, after five years of spending almost every hour with Lily (six if you count her room in the womb), the tough part is sharing her with the world.  She is so incredibly sweet, untouched by the opinions and influences of others.  As my dad mentions, she is very grateful for the little things in life.  She has a sparkle in her eye, a bounce in her step, a cadence in her speech that belong to littleness and life at home and the innocence of being five.  And I don’t want to share her with a world that is not always kindness and sparkle and sweetness, but it is time.  Time for me to let her explore more, learn more, experience more.  Time for her to come to me with what she sees and process it, decipher it, grow from it.  I am having growing pains.  My nest is emptier than I would like, but it is time to let her test her wings, so off to kindergarten she goes.

Lily, for her part, has been mostly excited with a touch of nervousness as she waited for life as a kinder to officially begin.  She was beautifully prepared by her Pre-K teachers last year during her time with them a few mornings a week. At home, we have been reading lots of books about school, kindergarten, principals, bus drivers, and friendships.  

We have been discussing, school supply shopping, learning, and anticipating.  She has been counting down the days until her open house and then until the first day of school.  She has approached it with enthusiasm.  I have dreaded it with a fear of the unknown. 

On Monday night, she had her open house.  All day long, she asked how many hours until she could go see her teacher.  She was thrilled to have the same kindergarten teacher big sis had loved, so we were already starting off on a positive note.  Truly, she has the most loving, affectionate, caring, fun kindergarten teacher I could ever hope for.  Not only did we adore her from the beginning, but she was an amazing presence for Emma in the weeks and months of our deep grief during Emma’s kindergarten year.  We greatly appreciate her.

At Open House, I was able to help Lily get her supplies put away, support her as she learned about classroom routines, and encourage her as she settled in to a new environment.

Though I knew that Lily was going to be in amazing hands, I still wasn’t feeling ready to hand her off.  Yet, Lily was doing everything possible to prepare herself for kindergarten.  She stayed up late on Monday night and got up early on Tuesday morning, pleading to do more schoolwork with me.  On Tuesday, I tried to squeeze in so many of our favorite things on my last day of summer vacation with the girls.  We had brunch at The Machine Shed (their favorite), stopped and saw Daddy at work, played at their favorite park, read lots of stories, and made time for cuddles and pretend play.  At night, we read The Kissing Hand, and I kissed her left hand, wrapped my kiss in it, and reminded her that it stayed even if she washed her hand.  She kissed my hand, too, and I almost burst into tears.

Wednesday morning, we began the hurried mornings of school days.  Conant went into work late so that he could also see Lily off on her first day of kindergarten.  He fixed them a special breakfast.  I helped them get ready and double checked the lunches I had packed, and we took plenty of pictures with them holding signs that they had made for the first day.  At the start of a new school year, I have each girl write her own sign and draw a picture of herself with her teacher.  It is fun to see the growth of their fine motor and artistic skills.

I insisted on driving them to school even though Lily was eager to ride the bus.  We arrived at school, and sweet big sister Emma asked, "Mom, is it okay if I introduce Lily to a few people at school?"  I assured her that that was a great idea.  Then, the wonderful principal greeted Lily by name and insisted on taking a family photo of us for Lily’s first day of kindergarten.  He is another educator that we are so thankful to have in our girls’ lives.

I had strategically planned to have a very busy first day, as I knew it would be a tough transition for me.  We dropped Emma off at her second grade class with a big hug and a kiss and then headed to Lily's classroom.  I helped her put on a cupcake hat, gave her one last Kissing Hand kiss, and tried to fill her heart with plenty of encouraging smiles.  She was so excited and brave, taking it all in quietly.  We lingered for a couple of minutes in Lily's classroom, and then Conant headed to work and I made my way to a Boo Hoo breakfast for kindergarten parents.  Though I had tears in my eyes, they did not stream down my cheeks, held in check by my realization that Lily was thrilled for her new adventure.  

After the breakfast, I walked past both girls’ classrooms and was greeted by huge smiles from each of them that helped to lessen my anxiety about leaving them.  Then, I had to dash off to make it to a workout class in time, leave there in a rush to watch my adorable nephew, and head home to squeeze in some laundry and cleaning that I had put off for days in order to spend optimal time with my girls before school began.  Though I was so anxious for the end of the day to arrive, it came rather quickly in my flurry of activity.  The girls both insisted that they wanted to take the bus home, so I arrived at the bus stop ten minutes early and waited eagerly to see them.  They were the last two off at their bus stop.  

Lily bounded toward me beaming.  

I gave her a big hug.  My heart leaped for her.  She looked so adorable and yummy that I wanted to nibble her cheeks with kisses.  As soon as the bus pulled away, I did.  She and her sister both got peppered with kisses and questions from Mom.

Lily began with an enthusiastic, “School is so fun.  I love it!  It's so fun!”  I asked her her favorite part.  She said, “Lunch!  Definitely lunch because I got two surprises, a treat and a note!”  (I had packed cookies, fruit, cheese and crackers, and a pancake sandwich that I cut into a heart shape.  I had written “Lily, I love you. Mom”  on a cute note, purposely keeping the note brief for my early reader.)  She quickly followed this with, “What did the note say?”  I giggled, thinking of her sparkly nature that gets so excited about a note that she couldn’t even read.  She is reading quite a few words, but in her eagerness to finish her lunch (which she did), she didn’t decipher the message, but she could absorb its meaning.  I felt the sweet sigh of knowing that my love made its way through to her even in my absence.  I asked her how the bus ride home was.  She exclaimed, "Fantastic!" with the trademark twinkle in her eye.  As I watched the girls walk and talk on the way home from the bus stop, the years flashed before my eyes, glimpses of what might come as they grow up together.  

I made them homemade popsicles and some of their favorite fruits, strawberries and blueberries, as a snack.  We did homework and talked more about their day.  Lily told about her fourth grade helper at lunch and recess, about the treat at snack, about the details of her day.  She beamed the entire time, so proud, so enamored with the excitement of newness and bigness and chances for growth and proving how much she is capable of even beyond my reach.  And I was glad that I shared.  Glad that she had the chance to experience.  Glad that she was met with love and kindness in the world.

This year, we will all grow.  I will adapt to my new role as I search out what I will do for volunteering, for work, for taking care of our home and my girls, for loving my hubby well and getting to know me again beyond my role as a mom, for all of the things that I have yet to figure out and all of the things that I already know for sure.  Lily will encounter so much newness, beautiful and terrifying and pure and difficult.  And I will be here, waiting to talk her through it, hoping to share in her growth, desiring to always be her biggest fan, her ardent supporter, her willing teacher, her honored guide.  We ended the day with snuggles and stories, love and hope, prayers and thanks that in our changing world, our solemnly exchanged kisses and our deeply rooted bond will not easily be washed away. 

This is Love

As summer draws to a close, it is with a heavy heart that I prepare to send my sweet Lily into the world of full time school.  I love her future school, have confidence that she will have wonderful experiences there, and believe that she will grow in ways that I can’t even yet imagine, but I am seriously sad that my long, lovely days with her are coming to an end.  My favorite, deep contentment moment of each summer day is having the girls join me in my bed for morning stories and snuggles, each little love tucked in one of my arms.  I love the safety that they feel when they are so close I can breathe in their littleness and love.  I adore the fullness of heart that I feel as their mom, especially easy to appreciate when we are fresh and rested with the newness of morning.  I give thanks that I was blessed with the amazing opportunity to be that safe place for them.  I am so content when our mornings need not be rushed, when we can soak up our time and reinforce our bond with extravagant and unhurried affection.  I will miss both of my girls so much, but the baby of the family spreading her wings, too, this year is a whole new level of tough.  I have new empathy for my mom, who stood with tears rolling down her cheeks as she said goodbye to me, her baby, at college many years ago, emptying her nest in a more permanent and profound way.  Change is hard, and as much as I cheer for my girls’ healthy development and growth, it is very tough to release the tiny, sweet hand that still fits perfectly into mine.

Knowing that the summer days and the years of caring for my baby all day are coming to a close, I am trying to squeeze every last drop of togetherness and new memories out of this last week of summer.  This week, Conant had a work conference in Minnesota, so we tagged along to have the ultimate girls’ week, including plenty of morning snuggles and a few days at the Mall of America.  Lily had been saving up for an American Girl doll for over a year.  She folded the family’s laundry, dusted the woodwork, unpacked the dishwasher, organized the basement, and saved nearly every dollar that she received as Christmas or birthday money.  She made small wages while gaining huge appreciation for the cost of her much awaited doll.  Big sister Emma’s doll has been a fifth member of the family over the past two years, needing baby-sitting by her "grandparents," decorating “her” room with posters of her friends, and having a very actively imagined life with Emma as her beautifully dedicated mom.  Lily has watched with patience and longing, not complaining but slowly filling in her savings chart until she had enough to buy her own doll.  Fortunately for her, that occurred right before our trip to the Mall of America, home of over five hundred stores and the only one that really mattered to Lily, the American Girl store.

I will let the pictures tell the story of the arrival of Bella, Lily’s new constant companion and cherished child.  If mothering was an Olympic sport, Lily would have already won the gold.

After over 5 hours in the car with a short stop for a picnic lunch, we checked into our hotel and then took a shuttle to the Mall of America.  Our family of four headed straight for the American Girl store, Lily as head shopper and Conant as lead photographer.

We asked for some help in choosing a doll that looked like Lily but was distinctly different from Emma’s doll.

When you’ve saved for over a year, this is a pretty serious decision.  We took some time over dinner to think things over before heading back for the final selection.

Success!  Doll number 30 no more…you have been freed from your anonymous life on a shelf and will now be called “Bella” by your adoring mama.

Lily happily handed over her money without hesitation, anxious to bring Bella home.

Back at the hotel, I had a very special gift waiting for Lily and Bella.  Before she died, my mom had sewn an American Girl scarf and dress and set them aside, knowing that Lily wanted to save for her own American Girl doll.  I found them when I was going through her things.  Dad confirmed that they were for Lily, so I hid them until this special day.  Lily was so very delighted to have a gift from Grandma.  My dad had been planning to join us if we went to Chicago for Lily’s doll, but when Minnesota became the new location, this was a wonderful way for my parents to be an important part of Lily’s big moment, since they had been there for Emma’s two years ago.  It was bittersweet, but when torn between bitter and grateful, I try whenever possible to choose gratitude.  The dress and scarf meant so much to each of us, a way for Mom to keep giving beyond what anyone would have expected. 

After taking some time to revel in the unexpected and much appreciated gift, we had Bella be “born” from the box.

Lily took a few quick pictures with Bella…

…And then just as quickly changed her American Girl outfit to the dress Grandma had sewn.  Emma kindly let Lily wear a matching dress that Grandma had made her a couple of years ago.

One of my favorite pictures of the day was one I quickly snapped with my phone as Lily prepared to fall asleep next to Bella.  I don't even have the words for this sweetness...

The next day, we headed back to the Mall of America, where Lily and Bella went everywhere together, checking out Barbie’s cool ride…

…and experiencing Rainforest Café for the first time.  Look at how excited they both are!

Three days after Bella’s entrance into our family, I surprised the girls with lunch at the American Girl Bistro.  I did each girl’s hair and her doll’s in a matching style, and Lily proudly wore a pillowcase dress that coordinated with Bella’s.  She received so many compliments on the dresses her precious grandma had made.  When the waitress complimented the dress, Lily replied, “I had her for three years.”  The waitress replied, “The doll?”  Lily looked at me, and I quietly remarked, “No, her grandma.”  The waitress handled the moment beautifully, saying, “Well, that’s a very good way of looking at it.”  So thankful for my little sweetie, acknowledging her loss, choosing gratitude, honoring the memory of someone we all loved beyond words.  Emma also dressed her doll in an outfit Mom had made in her last month of life.  It was a wonderful girls’ lunch, and Mom was a beautiful presence.

Before we left for the trip, I had Emma read the blog that I had written in March 2012 when she got her doll.  I wanted her to know that she had been the focal point when it was her turn and prepare her for all of us giving Lily support and encouragement.  What I found while I was pulling the blog up for her was heartwarming and heartbreaking.  My closing line about our trip with Emma was:  “Now, she has a beautiful doll by her side, but what makes her so much more blessed is that she has a family that couldn’t be happier for her, so many people who will always be on her side, pulling for her dreams to come true.”  The difficult reality that we have learned since then is that those we love may not always be physically at our side.  Still, we are blessed.  We are grateful.  She is loved.  In unrushed mornings and in the busyness of kindergarten days, in the security of togetherness and in seasons of change, she is blessed.  I am grateful.  This is love.