First Grade

The first day of school.  Last year, I cried.  A ton.  It was so hard to send my baby off to kindergarten, letting him go on his own.  I didn't think I would ever make it through that long, long first day.  I couldn't believe how quickly he had grown up and I was terrified of the days ahead.

This year was easier.  It wasn't easier because I will miss him any less than I did last year and it wasn't easier because I'm less nervous and scared for him.  It was easier because I know he can do it.  Somewhere along the way, I realized that I'm not as sad that my baby is growing up, because I'm so incredibly proud of the kid he's becoming.  

Not So Super Mom

When Mason was a baby, I felt like Super Mom.

We played, he laughed, I made all of his baby food from fresh fruits and vegetables, he was always dressed in cute little outfits, and I took a hundred pictures a day.  I blogged at least five times a week, sometimes twice a day.  Even before he could understand English, I was teaching him about the world, constantly talking to him.  We celebrated every milestone.  I had it all under control.

But Oliver.  Oh, Oliver.  We still play and we still laugh and I still talk to him like he can understand what I'm saying - that much is the same.  But this is his second blog post in his six months of life and there's a butternut squash that's been sitting in the refrigerator for a week.  He can usually be found attached to my boob, most often naked because well, what's the point of getting dressed when you're constantly vomiting on yourself?  I forget to take pictures.  He cries a lot.

I cry a lot more, too.

I love that baby to death, with every ounce of my being, but my god - it's so hard sometimes.  The struggle isn't with him though.  It's not with Tyler, either, even though we bicker when I feel like he's being critical about my parenting or when I get jealous that he gets to spend a solid HOUR alone in the car everyday, going back and forth to work.  In silence, if he wants!  I can't even fathom the silence.

The struggle is with myself.  The struggle is in learning to let go of how in control I felt six years ago.    It's in the realization that although I'm not quite Super Mom, I'm doing the best I can.  It's in learning that it isn't a negative reflection on my parenting every time Ollie cries.  It's in understanding that Mason doesn't mind if we don't get to play together as often, because he has Tyler to hang out with when I need to lay down on the couch while Oliver is permanursing for what feels like the fiftieth time today.

It's taken me three days to finish this short blog post.

It's all going to be okay though, that much I know.  The only one who cares that the house is a mess is me.  The rest of the family is thrilled that we're having pizza for dinner for the third time this week.  And Ollie looks at me with those big blue eyes and I can't imagine being any more loved, even if I did have this mom thing a little more under control.

Sometimes, you just need to take a deep breath and let it be.

Mason is Six and Along Came Ollie

It's been awhile.  A long while.  But in no way does that mean nothing worth writing about has been going on.  The exact opposite, actually.  So much has been going on that finding spare moments of time has been next to impossible.  

But here we are, in May of 2014.  Mason, my baby, just turned six.  It's so hard to believe sometimes.

He's almost finished with Kindergarden and even the first day of school - when I laid in bed crying hysterically after he got onto the bus for the first time - seems like ages ago.  There was a time, not long ago actually, when the thought of him growing up absolutely terrified me.  But now, when I look at the person he's becoming, I'm not scared anymore.  He's smart, he's funny, he's full of energy and excitement, and he wants to learn everything he possibly can about the world around him.  

People say the time flies by quickly.  That you'll wake up one morning and your kid will be 25 and you'll have no idea where the time has gone.  And some of that is true, I guess.  It does go quickly.  I can't believe that six years has passed since Mason was born.  But then, I do know where the time has gone.  The time has been spent playing and learning and reading stories and making messes and wiping tears.  It's been spent watching a little newborn blob grow into a confident, fun, outgoing six-year-old person.  These past six years have been well-spent.

In other, life-changing, huge news - on January 21st, along came Oliver.

Never did I think I could love someone as much as I love Mason.  But Ollie has stolen my heart with his big blue eyes and giant toothless smile.  It's been a big adjustment for us, but now, four months later, I can't imagine life without him.  Mason absolutely loves being a big brother.  He says they're BFFs.  

 

I do hope to get back in the habit of updating the old blog more often now that Ollie's here.  I love looking back at the posts I wrote when Mason was tiny and I want to be able to do that with Oliver, too.  Until then, I'll be holding onto every second I have with these two perfect boys.