Just wanted to quickly note that I DID forget someone on the Share ReUnion committee….Angi. I knew I was leaving someone out. Brain Fry the other day. It’s been a tough week!
I started working in Ryley’s classroom last week, one morning a week. I love it. This is why I quit my job last May. We’ve had to cut back and cut down on some things around the house, but it’s worth it when I can be in his classroom, go on his field trips with his class, and be the one to drop him off and pick him up from school. The weird thing is, in his classroom, I am Mrs. Schweitzer. I haven’t really been “Mrs. Schweitzer” since the day I got married. No one ever calls me that. All of our friends’ children, and the kids on Ryley’s various teams have always called me Miss Donna. I can handle that. Or even “Ryley’s Mom” or “Grace’s Mom” or “Ethan’s Mom”, but never Mrs. Schweitzer. I may have been called that in the hospital BEFORE I had Ryley, but never once since. I don’t know that I know who this is. Mrs. Schweitzer has always been my mother in law, never me. I found it a bit uncomfortable. But now, whenever kids from Ryley’s class see me, that’s what they call me, and I kind of have to stop myself from looking around to see who they’re talking to. I know this is how it’s going to be. Grace starts school next year, and I’ll be Mrs. Schweitzer to her class too. They’re growing up so fast. Is there someway to let them grow up without me getting older and becoming the Mrs. instead of Miss?
School is going well for Ryley. Behaviorally, he does really well, getting “tickets” everyday for being good. His writing has improved so much over the past few weeks, and he is always eager to share the factual tidbits he’s picked up at school. Now he’s constantly telling Grace how it is in the world. Too funny. He hates homework though. We struggle everday to get him to do it. Guess we’ll work on that. This week, he asked me to just drop him off at the curb instead of parking and walking him in to his class line. I wasn’t quite ready for that. I thought I was, but as I watched him walk up the sidewalk and into the gate to the kindergarten playground, all’s I could think was “there goes my baby…He’s too small to be doing this all on his own!” It definitely makes me sad to watch him go. Now he won’t let me even think about parking and walking him in. The one good thing is that I started getting my goodbye kisses and hugs again. He wouldn’t do them when he was standing in line with his classmates, but he’ll give me kisses and hugs in the car before he gets out to walk to class. He’s still my baby at heart, no matter how much of a big boy he is out in the world.
Tomorrow is Ryley’s birthday. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for the past couple of weeks. Tomorrow will bring the celebration I have been waiting for. I have put everything else on hold until after tomorrow. I feel like after that, I’ll be able to deal with anything else that comes up, and I will once again emerge from this September coccoon. He is so excited for his birthday and his party. He doesn’t really understand yet why Mommy gets stressed and sad around this time. This day six years ago was my last day of being pregnant with him. Six years ago, I was on my way to the infection that would start a labor they wouldn’t try to stop. Six years ago today I was still living in denial, believing that I would be in that hospital for six more weeks and then go home to await my full-term baby. Tomorrow will bring joy at his life. We are so amazingly lucky or blessed or whatever you might call it. I’m beyond knowing what it is that has given us a six year old who beat the odds. He was one of those “wimpy white boys” who should have really struggled in the NICU, if he survived at all. But survive he did, and thrive he did, and here we are six years later with a healthy, active, “normal” boy. Amen.
Speaking of boys……Yesterday was one of those days. Ryley had soccer practice yesterday afternoon. It was my turn to take him, so I packed all three kids upl and off we went. Practice is at a little league baseball park. It’s kind of nice in that Grace and Ethan can run around and not really bother anyone. There also happens to be the baseball warm-up areas right by where Ry’s team practices. It’s fenced on three sides, but full of nothing but that fine, red dirt. It’s Ethan’s favorite place to play during practice. I was helping Grace with something so I didn’t have my full attention on Ethan, but he was literally five feet away from me. I heard him giggling and looked over to see him completely laying down in that dirt, and rolling around. AAAAHHHH!!!!!!! I thought about stopping him, but it was already too late. He was covered, head to toe, in that dirt. There was no help for it, so I just let him go. He wasn’t hurting anyone else, he wasn’t throwing dirt, he was just rolling around in it. Needless to say, it was another bath night last night. It took two washes to get all the dirt out of his hair. As I’ve said before, God is surely up there laughing at me learning to live with and deal with two boys!!!!!