*Dedicated to Sarah.
Yesterday, I was totally creeped out and utterly fascinated by the large praying mantis that wandered into my garage. I may or may not have considered finding him some prey just to satisfy my morbid curiosity.
I'm not a big fan of meat in general, and steak, ribs, or pork in particular. I'd rather eat salad.
I seriously love Christmas music. I've been thinking about it the last few days and wondering if it's too early to start listening to it.
Potty training is my nemesis. We've been at war for almost a year now and I lost today's battle. Sunshine had an accident on my bed that soiled the bedding and left a wet ring on my mattress.
Speaking of the potty...I walked into the bathroom today to find that the toilet paper roll was soaking wet. I'd prefer NOT to know how it got that way.
I have a weakness for jewelry. I bought two pairs of earrings today when I was supposed to be shopping for clothes for Sunshine.
My cat needs a new home. I always thought I was a "cat person" until we got this cat, who has health problems from inbreeding. The worst is that her front teeth fell out and she can't chew up her food, so it often makes an encore appearance.
Conversely, I want to keep my dog - a sweet, loving, and obedient black lab who still has all her teeth.
One of my favorite things ever is when my daughter wants to hold my hand. It just makes me melt inside.
C.R. and I are trying to plan a weekend getaway soon. I can't wait.
My laptop has an unique feature: automatic shutoff. I bump the power chord and it automatically shuts off. I got to enjoy this feature just moments ago, in the middle of typing my post.
Care to share some of your own randomness?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Independence Day
Today was the day, the one our family has been counting down to for weeks.
Today, my baby started preschool.
Sunshine is a confident and outgoing little girl. She could hardly wait for the opportunity to be "on her own" at school two mornings per week. Still, while I knew that she would like it, I secretly wondered if she would miss home - miss her mommy - at least a little.
I didn't have to wonder for long.
Sunshine is attending a small Christian school just a few miles from our home. When she and I walked through the door of her classroom this morning, we were greeted by colorful decorations, smiling teachers, and pint-sized chaos.
Several parents crowded the entry, reassuring their children. Two girls were crying, one holding tightly to the legs of her mother. The other stood next to a teacher, tears still fresh on her face, and waved good-bye to her father.
For a moment, Sunshine stared at these kids in puzzlement. I imagine she was wondering why anyone would cry about spending two and a half hours in educational paradise. She turned to me and calmly asked, "Mommy, when are you leaving?"
And suddenly I felt like those weepy little girls. I had a mental image of latching onto Sunshine's legs and begging her to come home with me. But before I could carry it out, Sunshine had moved to the play area to stack blocks with another child. I waved goodbye and wandered back out the door.
I managed the walk to my car through a blur of tears. I knew that Sunshine would be okay, that we would only be apart for a couple of hours. During that time she'd be learning, having fun, and socializing with other kids. I didn't regret the decision to send Sunshine to private school; C.R. and I had thoughtfully and prayerfully made that decision.
What bothered me was that Sunshine didn't seem to need me as much as she had just 24 hours earlier. School is one of the first steps she'll take away from my arms toward independence. In that moment, I could see my daughter getting a driver's license, going off to college, and walking down the aisle at her wedding.
All those things would happen because she'd started preschool.
It was more than I could take. I grieved my small loss, crying quietly in the car. I just couldn't seem to stop the tears.
That is, until I walked through the sliding doors of the grocery store. In an instant, my tears dried up. It suddenly occurred to me that I was going to shop all by myself. I smiled and wondered when the angelic choir would start singing the Hallelujah Chorus over the store PA system. I virtually floated through the check-out line and then returned to my quiet house to thoroughly clean it without a single interruption.
I guess Sunshine and I both enjoyed our independence today.
When I returned to the school, I felt refreshed. My little girl happily met me at the classroom door. She reached for my hand and smiled up at me, eager to tell me all about her morning.
And then, all at once, it felt great to be needed again.
Today, my baby started preschool.
Sunshine is a confident and outgoing little girl. She could hardly wait for the opportunity to be "on her own" at school two mornings per week. Still, while I knew that she would like it, I secretly wondered if she would miss home - miss her mommy - at least a little.
I didn't have to wonder for long.
Sunshine is attending a small Christian school just a few miles from our home. When she and I walked through the door of her classroom this morning, we were greeted by colorful decorations, smiling teachers, and pint-sized chaos.
Several parents crowded the entry, reassuring their children. Two girls were crying, one holding tightly to the legs of her mother. The other stood next to a teacher, tears still fresh on her face, and waved good-bye to her father.
For a moment, Sunshine stared at these kids in puzzlement. I imagine she was wondering why anyone would cry about spending two and a half hours in educational paradise. She turned to me and calmly asked, "Mommy, when are you leaving?"
And suddenly I felt like those weepy little girls. I had a mental image of latching onto Sunshine's legs and begging her to come home with me. But before I could carry it out, Sunshine had moved to the play area to stack blocks with another child. I waved goodbye and wandered back out the door.
I managed the walk to my car through a blur of tears. I knew that Sunshine would be okay, that we would only be apart for a couple of hours. During that time she'd be learning, having fun, and socializing with other kids. I didn't regret the decision to send Sunshine to private school; C.R. and I had thoughtfully and prayerfully made that decision.
What bothered me was that Sunshine didn't seem to need me as much as she had just 24 hours earlier. School is one of the first steps she'll take away from my arms toward independence. In that moment, I could see my daughter getting a driver's license, going off to college, and walking down the aisle at her wedding.
All those things would happen because she'd started preschool.
It was more than I could take. I grieved my small loss, crying quietly in the car. I just couldn't seem to stop the tears.
That is, until I walked through the sliding doors of the grocery store. In an instant, my tears dried up. It suddenly occurred to me that I was going to shop all by myself. I smiled and wondered when the angelic choir would start singing the Hallelujah Chorus over the store PA system. I virtually floated through the check-out line and then returned to my quiet house to thoroughly clean it without a single interruption.
I guess Sunshine and I both enjoyed our independence today.
When I returned to the school, I felt refreshed. My little girl happily met me at the classroom door. She reached for my hand and smiled up at me, eager to tell me all about her morning.
And then, all at once, it felt great to be needed again.
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