I know in the coming days I'm going to be overwhelmed with trying to organize her 5th birthday extravaganza (not) so I thought I would be proactive and give Elaina her birthday post a bit early. Five years old. School in two months. When we moved here last year she was going through a screaming phase. For no apparent reason, out or the blue or of course in response to any injustice, she would scream. And scream. And scream. Luckily, that was a year ago. Presently, she is getting in touch with her cave-girl ancestors and she is now a gatherer. Plastic grocery bags, re-usable grocery bags (maybe there wouldn't be plastic ones around if I could remember to put the re-usable ones she hoards in my car!) toy bins, suit cases, backpacks, old diaper bags, totes, anything that can presumable 'hold' another object is
called to service. Dressers are emptied into toy bins, crayon boxes are transferred into beach bags, printer paper now resides in Tupperware, along with 3 potato bugs. Her most prized possession of all? The letter from her new Kindergarten teacher. Admittedly, when it came the other day to welcome her to her new school, my heart sunk. I couldn't help but remember the last ti
me I had to let her go, her first day of daycare. They were each 12-14 weeks old when I had to leave them to someone else. It felt as though my soul was being ripped from my body and beat repeatedly against a brick wall. I put on the 'I'm fine' front, and sobbed uncontrolably in my car with them all. When we moved I vowed to never do that to them or me again. When the letter came, I cried. That's what I do. After having three kids, I'm an emotional wreck. I cry when I'm sad, mad, happy, excited, anxious, perplexed or bored. When we tore into the letter and started to read...Dear Kindergartner...she clasped her hands over her mouth and began to shriek, luckily, as I said, her hands were clasped over her mouth!! I continued with how excited all the teachers were to meet all the new students and all the things they will be lear
ning in the coming year...I of course am completely choked up, trying not to let her see what a complete geek her mother is, when it happens... I see her brush at her cheek. Truly, my girl. She then states in complete bewilderment, that her eyes are watering and doesn't know why?! Oh sweet girl, I know why. Her first tears of excitement, the joy of a new adventure so overwhelming it's bursting from her eyeballs! I love you girl. I love seeing me in you, even if you grow to hate wearing your emotions on your sleeve, I won't. Your brother will be there to hold your hand, to wave across the playground and to tackle the first boy trying to steal a kiss. I will be there with a snack when you get home and eager ears to hear it all.
I know in the coming days I'm going to be overwhelmed with trying to organize her 5th birthday extravaganza (not) so I thought I would be proactive and give Elaina her birthday post a bit early. Five years old. School in two months. When we moved here last year she was going through a screaming phase. For no apparent reason, out or the blue or of course in response to any injustice, she would scream. And scream. And scream. Luckily, that was a year ago. Presently, she is getting in touch with her cave-girl ancestors and she is now a gatherer. Plastic grocery bags, re-usable grocery bags (maybe there wouldn't be plastic ones around if I could remember to put the re-usable ones she hoards in my car!) toy bins, suit cases, backpacks, old diaper bags, totes, anything that can presumable 'hold' another object is 
called to service. Dressers are emptied into toy bins, crayon boxes are transferred into beach bags, printer paper now resides in Tupperware, along with 3 potato bugs. Her most prized possession of all? The letter from her new Kindergarten teacher. Admittedly, when it came the other day to welcome her to her new school, my heart sunk. I couldn't help but remember the last ti
me I had to let her go, her first day of daycare. They were each 12-14 weeks old when I had to leave them to someone else. It felt as though my soul was being ripped from my body and beat repeatedly against a brick wall. I put on the 'I'm fine' front, and sobbed uncontrolably in my car with them all. When we moved I vowed to never do that to them or me again. When the letter came, I cried. That's what I do. After having three kids, I'm an emotional wreck. I cry when I'm sad, mad, happy, excited, anxious, perplexed or bored. When we tore into the letter and started to read...Dear Kindergartner...she clasped her hands over her mouth and began to shriek, luckily, as I said, her hands were clasped over her mouth!! I continued with how excited all the teachers were to meet all the new students and all the things they will be lear
ning in the coming year...I of course am completely choked up, trying not to let her see what a complete geek her mother is, when it happens... I see her brush at her cheek. Truly, my girl. She then states in complete bewilderment, that her eyes are watering and doesn't know why?! Oh sweet girl, I know why. Her first tears of excitement, the joy of a new adventure so overwhelming it's bursting from her eyeballs! I love you girl. I love seeing me in you, even if you grow to hate wearing your emotions on your sleeve, I won't. Your brother will be there to hold your hand, to wave across the playground and to tackle the first boy trying to steal a kiss. I will be there with a snack when you get home and eager ears to hear it all.
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