If You're Happy and You Know It...

As part of Project 137, one of our constant reminders to is to come at life, people, and the world-at-large from a place of love. And then assume that all others are doing the same...even the prickly ones. This is hard for a person like me who often takes life and all its moments quite personally, but I am trying and I think I'm even improving. Between P137 and my MOPS book club where we are reading the Power of a Positive Mom, and, let's be honest, some better nights of sleep, I feel my overall attitude and approach lifting.

So imagine my surprise last night when I arrived on campus early to get ready to teach and a woman who works in my building greeted me, in the entryway, with a sarcastic and worried, "Well, you sure look ready for class. Are you OK for class tonight? Do you feel up to it? Are you sure?" Or something along those lines. I honestly can't remember her exact words, but that was the gist of it and the gist is what bothered me.

As she started, I really thought the "You sure look" was going to end with a "ready for Fall" because I had on one of my favorite scarves. Or maybe a "sleek" or "great" or "nice" because I actually had time to straighten and do my hair yesterday. But no, no compliment came and instead I found myself trying to smile, laugh and then defend my overall attitude and demeanor to this person who is pretty much a stranger but felt compelled to ask me such personal questions. "Oh, yes. I'm great. Fully caffeinated, even!" was my response as I tried to just keep moving and get to my classroom so I could get away from her and shake off the whole thing.

This is the same woman who told me, "You look sad" one night last spring when my class was taking a ten minute break. Geez, Lady! Really?! I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by last night's comment based on her previous track record, but why does anyone feel compelled to say such things?

And why does it bother me so much?

Well, last spring, it probably bothered me because it was true. Or at least partly true. I was sad. Or at least very, very tired and very, very stressed which probably equals sad in some way or another. I didn't like that she could see that on my face because, like so many of us, I try to keep that stuff to myself (except for when I write, of course, and then it all comes pouring out).

Last night, it bothered me because I felt I had done nothing "wrong" or "negative".  I couldn't understand why she would say this two seconds after I entered the building. Clearly she had watched me walk in from my car by myself, and no, I was not skipping or singing or laughing as I did so, but that makes me look like I'm not happy to be there? Not ready to face the world? In fact, I was pretty darn thrilled to be on campus so early because I had much to do and was grateful to have the time to do it. Plus, just sayin'... my hair looked awesome.

But here's what I realized as I thought about the whole encounter: I am not a goofy-grinned-not-a-care-in-the-world kind of girl. I'm just not. And that's OK. I am a happy person, even if I'm not slapstick about it. I am working on becoming a more positive one, too, which is why I'm going to assume that this woman's misplaced questions come from a place of compassion, not ridicule. The seriousness that people might see in me does not make me broken. It is just a part of me that is lovely as the other parts. My serious side is a reflection of the dedication and purpose I feel in my life. It is part of my drive and my determination.

Last time I checked, those are good attributes to have.

Should I have to defend those attributes to her or you or myself? No. But apparently she's bound and determined to keep pushing me on it, so I will have to keep thinking so I can respond to and approach her in a way that is kind, not reactive. I will also have to keep reminding my (sensitive) self that other people (and especially this woman) neither define me nor determine my outlook on the world. I do.

Even if I don't go around clapping my hands, stomping my feet, or shouting "Hooray!" all the time, I've still got a heart full of love and hope for great things to come. And they do. Every day.

So take that, Miss You Sure Look! (OK - that's neither kind nor nonreactive...see! I told you I needed to keep thinking about that!)

My Little Mountain Goat

For all the run-around that Harrison gave me as a baby and toddler, I must say - he was never a climber or a jumper. Of course he could get up on things, but he was just more content to stay on one level for his daily (I mean day-long) activity. And the lack of jumping? I was honestly beginning to wonder if we had a problem at age two because he still wasn't doing much of it, but now he leaps and hops and flops with the best of them. No worries!

Enter Raegan. While she's still too little for jumping (I should knock on wood, otherwise she'll start doing it tomorrow), she is a climbing machine. Seriously. The child is either part monkey or part mountain goat or perhaps both.

As soon as she was mobile (which was what - six months or before?!), she's been taking the high road. Literally. If she can find a route that includes pulling herself up and over something, she's much happier than to have a wide open path. Pillows, blankets, toys, books, people - doesn't matter. Just give the girl something to climb over and she's good.

And while I'm shocked to report that we still don't have actual walking, I think I understand why. This kid is just a climber. Yes, she's still pulling herself up on things and turning non-walker-toys into walkers on a regular basis. But lately, this is her favorite thing to do:

Notice the pattern? Not only does she love chairs, she loves to get up on them all by herself. Not only does she like to get up on them, she likes to stand on them. See?! She has to be part mountain goat! And of course she is the cutest little mountain goat I've ever seen, but still. She is going to give me heart failure.

My mother-in-law has this famous story about Ben that relates (and also allows me to officially call Raegan His Child as I do whenever the children do something for which I don't want to take credit). Apparently, when Mr. Ben was a mere 18 months old, he climbed a ladder. To the roof! They were outside with him, doing a project and all of the sudden, there he wasn't. Turns out, the little stinker just scooted himself right up on and right on up a ladder that was leaning against their house. Heaven help me! At least he waited until he was 18 months; I have a feeling Raegan's going to end up in the most precarious places well before then....

This is our play constructure. We've had it since June. It was intended to be for Harrison, at least for the first year or so. A couple weeks ago, Ben discovered that Little Miss could navigate the ladder pretty much all on her own. He stands there as a spotter, but she really doesn't need it (well, of course she does, but in her mind, I think she's all, "I GOT this."). Check it out:

See how easy that is for her?!

And then, she pushed a chair over to the wall/little bookcase the other day, to do this:

I guess we had better be pretty darn careful about leaving any ladders up against the house, huh? Otherwise she'll be up on the rooftop, just like her daddy in no time. Did I ever mention that Ben and I come from some highly competitive families? It would so be like our kids to want to beat our records, especially of the really important stuff like rooftop ascension age. ;) Actually, I think we better be pretty darn careful about leaving any sort of climbing leverage anywhere...no surface is going to be safe with this little monkey in the house!

In the Woods

So it has almost been two months since we did the whole Sleep Shuffle thing with Raegan. I have to say, in two months, we've come a long way in improving our quality of sleep and quality of life. That being said, I'm beginning to wonder if my house/family is just always going to be running a little bit on Tired....

The Shuffle itself took about two weeks. After that, Raegan was an absolute Rock Star putting herself to bed at night AND at nap time as well. ROCK STAR. We still had night wakenings there for a while, but those rapidly diminished in frequency and intensity, which was great.

Now Raegan did lose some weight during that time which kind of freaked out one of our local lactation consultants, but really, it makes sense. 1) I wasn't nursing every 2-3 hours all night, every night (which, I refuse to feel bad about considering RL was a 10-mo-old at the time, not a newborn!) 2) She moves All. The. Time. It was remarkable that she gained any weight this summer; losing a little bit hasn't seemed to bothered her at all. We've since stepped up the solids and she appears to be just fine.

The real problem, after sleep training RL to put herself to sleep (and back to sleep during the night) was that she started waking up really freaking early every morning. Like 5:00 a.m. early. And did I mention she was screaming as soon as she awoke? All the books say not to get the kiddo up before 6:00 at the very earliest, so there were some mornings we endured a lot of unhappy baby before "officially" starting our day. Not fun. Harrison would often get up during this time, too, so once again we all started walking around a bit like zombies. We tried putting her down later but no dice. She would still wake early and pissed, and then she was running on even less sleep the next day because of the later bed time which made her day sleep harder to figure out as well. And so on and so on for a few weeks. Not a fun cycle.

Then, a couple weeks ago, Raegen started stretching closer to rising at 6:00. Brilliant! We were loving it. A couple days she even made it to our magic goal time of 6:30. Even more Brilliant! Even more loving it!

Around this same time, though, Harrison decided to revisit his old Jack-in-the-box habits from shortly after Baby Sis was born and started coming in our room at all hours of the night. As in, we are now back to the two, sometimes three, visits from him on a lot of nights. Sometime Ben can just walk him back and be done with it. Other times HD wants to go to the bathroom (Side Note: for the life of him, he will not pee in his diaper at night. I know this is a good thing. I know this is the ultimate goal of potty training. But for the Love of Pete, please just stay asleep in your bed and pee in your diaper so I can stay asleep, too!). And then on the other-other times, he wants to get really upset and have a mid-night-melt-down for reasons we really can't determine.

Ugh. Once again, I am SO tired. Whereas Ben can often just fall back to sleep after any and all of these little incidents, I often get woken up completely and have to do all of the (for me, rather hard) work of falling back asleep. So at best I'm back to getting two-to-three-to-sometimes-four hours of sleep in a row. Mama needs MORE!

To top of the sleep mayhem, Raegan has quit being a happy-go-to-sleep-er. Just in the last week she has decided that she needs to be mad Mad MAD before bed, especially, and often before nap as well. I have no idea why this changed. Before she was honestly going down often without a peep. Sometimes the "peeps" now last as long as 25 or 30 minutes which is longer than when we first started sleep training.

Again, Ugh.

I apologize. I don't mean to complain and really I'm not trying to do that here. I wanted to update those of you who have been with us through our sleep struggles and let you know that while we've made progress, we're not out of the woods yet. Something tells me one never leaves the woods - they just keep changing. But isn't that parenthood in general? Just when you think you've got something figured out, the kid changes and it is once again, Day One.

These Hands

Baby feet (and in particular, baby toes) get a lot of attention. They are so little, so sweet, and so soft. Endless and countless games of This Little Piggy happen because baby feet are wonderful.

I am not arguing this notion at all. I too am a big fan of Little Piggies and all the joys that accompany them. But here is what I really love....

That would be Miss Raegan's hand. And let me tell you, baby hands are also the best thing in the whole world.

A friend once called them starfish hands, and while I would not want actual starfish stuck to me in any way, shape, or form, I do love having the so little, so sweet, and so soft fingers of a little one glommed onto me. And that is exactly what Raegan's been doing lately. Did you notice? Those little fingers are holding my very own thumb.

Here is another view:

Although Raegan did take her first steps a week or so ago (Yay! and WOW!), she is not walking. She has also entered that 9-12 month clingy stage, so she really wants to be right there with me a lot. That means that, like many mamas in the world, I swing my baby girl up on my hip when we move from room to room or place to place. And this thumb grabbing has been her response. It is like my finger is a handle for her to grasp and every time I notice her doing it, I have to smile.

Yes, the thumb handle is great. Much better than the armpit pinching she does every time we sit down to nurse. Apparently Little Miss thinks I'm going to drop her when I'm shifting her around on the Boppy before we settle in to nurse, because whichever hand is closest to my arm inevitably ends up grabbing on (a.k.a pinching!) for dear life. And while I have never dropped her, I guess I can understand her concern in these moments and can't really blame her for hanging on (and for getting my attention each and every time with the pinch to say, "Hey, Lady! Don't drop me!").

Truth is, she's always finding ways to express herself. Much like her brother (and my brother), Raegan has very expressive eyebrows. She wiggles and waggles and raises them, telling us all kinds of stories with her face. But her hands are also wonderful, expressive tools. She claps all the time and loves to point (mostly to herself in mirrors when I am carrying her around the house). Her latest and most favorite trick, though, is waving.

In the last few weeks, Raegan has begun waving all the time. She clearly already knows what "hello" and "goodbye" mean because she starts opening and closing her fingers and/or moving her wrist back and forth whenever she hears someone extend one of these greetings. When Daddy leaves for school each morning and says, "Goodbye!" from the door, she waves. When I come in from the next room to find her playing and say, "Hi!" to her, she waves. But the best is her greeting her adoring public each time I open the door to go outside. 80% of the time we don't actually see any other people, but she leaves the house smiling and waving almost every time. Such a Love, this girl!

Yes, these hands are precious and full of life. They are also feisty and quick and have already learned how to get into all sorts of mischief (can we say, "Hello, Too Tall with the Stretching and Reaching?!" She attacked the toilet paper roll in the bathroom yesterday!). But they are so, so dear. And because I know those little fingers (and toes) are just going to keep growing and growing, I'm taking a minute to appreciate them exactly as they are right now.

Inquiring Minds

So a funny thing has been happening in our house lately. Harrison has been walking around singing songs and telling stories that I know absolutely nothing about. Not the words, not their authors...nothing! 

This morning, after breakfast, he started doing a dance in the dining room, while giving out these instructions: "Two steps to the right. Two steps to the left. Clap your knees. Ugh. That's really hard. I can't do that. Now three steps forward." OK, so that's both instruction and commentary (not to mention hilarious, if you ask me), but such is life with a preschooler. 

We've got two weeks of preschool under our belts now and as far as I can tell, it's going great. The honest truth, though? I really don't know much about how it's actually going!

I've dropped Harrison off each morning and picked him up three of the four times. He's always excited to hang up his bag and go into his classroom; I usually have to ask for a hug or kiss goodbye and then I leave without him (or me) having any fuss. When I go back get him three hours later, he's excited to see me and comes running (or walking as fast as his "walking feet" will allow), a big smile on his face and greeting me with a happy, "Mama!"

And while he loves having anything - papers, crafts, book orders, anything! - in his backpack to show me, I might as well already have a fifteen-year-old male living in my house because I canNOT get details out him about what he's doing when he's at school.

If I ask if he sang songs or read books or played a game, he'll tell me, "Yes" but nothing else. He also has yet to tell me any of the other kids' names and if I ask what so-and-so brought for snack (because I can see on our calendar who brought snack that day), Harrison will look at me for a second and say, "I don't know. What was it?" as if I'm playing some guessing game where I'm playing dumb with him. Not the case, Kiddo! Mama really has no idea and would love to know so much more!

Being the helicopter that I am, I have to resist the urge to ask for song and book titles and a list of activities and everything else that would quickly put me on his teachers' radar as a complete nut job and control freak. I can't help it; there is just a part of me that just wants to know and then implement all of it at home, which IS crazy because it's not like I run a real structured house or day-to-day curriculum. I guess I just want to know what he's doing because it seems like such a long time for him to be gone (three whole hours? without me?) and he comes home bigger every time (just like he does when he visits his grandparents for a few days).  

What I'm quickly learning is that his world is quickly becoming less about me. And while it's a little hard to swallow, that's not a snarky comment or even a sad or sappy one. I'm glad he's getting this opportunity to be with and learn from others. I think it's a wonderful thing for him. And really, if he's already absorbing songs and stories (and dance moves!) and processing them, that's great; it shows me how ready he is to learn and grow and do. All good things, my friends!

And since I can't seem to get a whole lot out of him on the day of (my best guess is that those dance instructions are from last week), I am measuring the success of each day by the standard we set on Day One. Did he come home in the same clothes he wore to school? So far, that would be a resounding YES! Potty training and glue and snack and play are all factors in that, yet he's been in the Win category every day. I'll take it!

Meal Swap

Last Fall, in the midst of my crazed-nesting/get-this-baby-out-of-my-belly phase, I did a weekend of freezer meal cooking. I had never attempted such a feat before and even though I survived it (and we enjoyed most of the food), I wasn't sure I would ever do it again. It was a LOT of work to cook twelve different recipes over the course of one weekend and the whole thing left me feeling a bit crazed.

Flash forward a few months, past the arrival of Miss Raegan, to a MOPS meeting that just so happened to be about freezer cooking. I was proud that I not only knew what freezer cooking was but that I was also a veteran of such cleverness. Actually, I was just happy to get the little collection of recipes that they gave us (after demonstrating one for the group) because, unlike my own foray into freezer cooking, these were meals that someone I knew had actually made/tested/survived/enjoyed. That's not to say that my first twelve were all duds, but some were met with less than enthusiastic plate cleaning.

During that meeting, a friend who sat at my table mentioned a blog she had read where some women did a freezer meal swap. This meant that each participant made one meal five times over - enough for her own family and one to give to each other family. Then, when they got together, they walked away from the night with five different meals to toss in the freezer. "Brilliant!" I thought. Because making a whole bunch of meals is confusing and messy and slow. But making the same meal over and over again sounded so much easier.

So, when said friend sent out an inquiry email later that day, asking if anyone was interested in forming such a meal swap group, I was all, "Yes, Please!" Five others felt the same way, and so our little group of seven was formed.

Our first swap took place last February. It was a whole new ball game making that many meals in one go (actually, I spread it out over several days/nights/weekends), and, to add to the fun, we decided we would each make not one but TWO main dishes to swap. As my son would say, "Holy Moly Cow!"

And even though there were moments of Holy Moly Cow in trying to make seven pans of enchiladas and cook up seven batches of pork tacos, there was also a bit of excitement (I mean, hellooooo - look at these pork tacos!).

There was also a bit of wonder, as in, "I wonder if everyone else will like my cooking. I wonder if we'll like theirs."

Well, not to worry! The swap was a huge success. First, it allowed me to have my first girls' night out since Raegan was born. You see, when we set our date to swap, one group member hosts at her house while another one brings dessert. Then we get to have wine and time to chat before hauling out the coolers. We've talked about our various mass cooking experiences and laughed at how some people just look at us like we're nuts when we try to explain this group. (We also laugh because we are a teensy bit nuts, and we look really funny when we show up at someone's house for a swap, all lugging our big heavy coolers!)

Second, the meal swap has allowed some awesome food to find its way to our table. I have two words for you: Elegant Chicken. That dish, made during our first exchange in February, is probably still my favorite thing about this whole experience. I don't know how you could go wrong with a name like Elegant Chicken (it so had me wondering what it would be), and as a bonus, it is a lot like a dish that my mother-in-law makes (that I had never had), so Ben flipped when I served it for dinner.

But really, all of the meals have been fantastic and I always look forward to what I get to pull out of the freezer next. I consider myself a decent cook but I tend to make the same stuff all the time, so this has been a great way to add some variety to our dinner table.

Now, when we first started emailing, trying to plan the meal swap, we thought we might do this once a month. Ha! I actually just snorted a little bit when I typed that because I think all of us quickly realized that this is not an easy thing to do and not something we want to stress out over each and every month. We decided during our first exchange that every other month - at the most - was plenty and would allow us a couple three (I'm sorry, I know that makes no sense, but I love that expression) meals per week from the freezer. Excellent!

In the time since, we've had some fun and experimented a bit with how the group works. We've done a round with a main dish and a side. We've added a couple members and had one member sit out when her schedule didn't allow for the extra cooking. We even took a longer stretch between exchanges this summer, because, frankly, all of us were busy and who wants to be doing a ton of cooking when it is 101 out every day?!

Thanks to a few tiny hints of cooler weather added to the fact that both school and MOPS have started up for another year, we are back at it with our freezer meals. Our next exchange is set for later this month and I am pumped. I think I only have one meal left from our last swap (because I have been totally hoarding it), so my freezer is all set to be loaded up with deliciousness again. This time we're doing one dish that is kid friendly and one that is more geared for adults. I picked taverns (Sloppy Joes for you NE folk) and Baked Bean Chicken (because it sounded like something my hubby would like).

The taverns are done and done, thanks to some clever usage of my electric skillet (only had to do two batches of actual cooking to get all eight meals done). The chicken is another miracle that I've discovered since starting with this group - freezer meals for the slow cooker! This means that on "cook day" all you do is prep and toss in the bag; then the CrockPot does all the work for you when it is time to actually make the meal. I love my CrockPot, so this has been a wonderful revelation.

That being said, when you have to make eight of something it doesn't really matter if you're cooking it or not, it still takes time. OK, having to brown the chicken first would have been worse, but this meal was comical from the very get-go.

First, I had to go to Walmart to get my supplies. I'm not thrilled with the fact that I do so much of my shopping at Walmart, but it helps stretch some dollars for us and is (usually) one stop shopping, so I do it. Because I knew I'd have a cartload, I did this last night while Ben was putting the kids to bed (bless his heart). I crisscrossed my way through the store, collecting all the items from my list (except for the bread, which I forgot, dang it!). Here's the thing about making Baked Bean Chicken - it takes a lot of beans and a lot of chicken! My cart was so heavy by the time I got to the produce section, I was having a hard time rounding corners with the darn thing. Right then, I started to get the giggles a little bit (which, when shopping alone, really just makes you look like a crazy person).

So I finally got my big, heavy cart to the checkouts, only to realize that even though the parking lot didn't look too full when I got there, everybody and their uncles decided to check out at the exact same time. Holy Moly Cow - it was a lot of people and most of them had a lot of stuff.

As a former BigK cashier, I'm a big fan of the self checkout, so that is where I headed amidst all the chaos. I hopped in a semi-short line behind two other ladies, thinking I'd be out of there in no time. Silly me. The first one was done and gone, but then, the second...well, this was apparently her first time attempting the self checkout and she was holding each item so gingerly, swiping them so gently, that nothing was working. It was so bad that the girl who was supposed to be supervising all of the self checkouts had to come over and ring up her whole order! Again, the almost-giggles set in (only because I was there without my kids; had I been there with kids, I would have been freaking out going: oh.my.goodness.get.me.out.of.here!) (And, in hindsight, I should have offered up my BigK skills!).

When it was finally my turn, I attacked my cart as quickly and efficiently as I could. That's all well and good, but when you have 56 cans and 16 lbs. of chicken (and other groceries and baby stuff) to scan, you're going to monopolize that checkout for a wee bit of time.

Now, when I had to buy the 8 jars of salsa to make my pork tacos and all the fixings for my enchiladas, I got some funny looks at the register from the people around me, so this time I did my best not to make eye contact with other costumers while I checked out my order. That only worked for so long, though, and sure enough, I caught a few raised eyebrows and goofy grins as people looked at my items and wondered what apocalypse I was preparing for. And, because I laugh at really awkward moments, I had to resist the urge to bust a gut for the third time (and managed to do so, in hopes of not ending up on some People of Walmart website or something).

Finally I made it out of the store and back home where I decided I might as well make my meals. Here is what it looked like before I began (minus the mustard which I forgot to add to the pile before snapping this picture):

 

Again, I have to laugh a little bit at the absurdity of all this (and the fact that I now sometimes cook with garlic and onions). But I love it all so much. The food and the friendship and the fellowship are what make the crazy all worth it. 

And while I don't have a picture of the finished bags, I can promise you girls - it looks like a good one!

First Day of School

To say that Harrison has been excited for the start of preschool would be a huge understatement. From the time in July when we got his official letter telling us the date/time of his class and read it to him, he's been ready and raring to go.

For the first few days he kept asking us to read the letter to him again. Then he began talking about his teacher Miss Ash-a-leigh (her name is really just Ashley; this is just the adorable way it sounds when he says it, which is all the time), asking if she was ready for him to come to preschool yet. Even though we would say, "No, not quite ready yet" he kept asking and asking if it was time to go to preschool. Now, in another life, I might have taken offense to this desire of his to get out of the house and away from me, but I know he's just so darn excited about being with other kids and learning so that helps me not take it personally in the least little way.

A couple weeks ago, we attended an evening Open House with the rest of his classmates to meet Miss Ashley and see his room. HD & I had a crawl-in-the-cave afternoon that day thanks to a major nap disaster, but Open House ended up going really, really well. I didn't know they were going to separate us, but after an introductory scavenger hunt to explore the room, the teachers kept the kids in the main room while the parents went next door to fill out paperwork. Brilliant plan, really, but since we didn't know that was coming, we'd had no way to prepare HD for it. He jumped up from the circle mat when we started to leave, but after I gave him a hug and some quick reassurances, he was fine. We were even able to peek on him through the door a couple times which was so cool. I loved watching him sit and listen and interact with the other kids and his teachers. Part of me was amazed by all of the sitting, actually. And of course it ended as soon as we came back to join him; then it was all over to run and play again, but my gut tells me that he saves his excitement for us because he loves us and wants to share. How can you fault that? On the way home he asked why we had to leave to do "schoolwork" and told us that Miss Nikki (Miss Ashley's assistant) helped him get soap (we're not sure if this means he just washed his hands before snack or if he actually used the bathroom there, but whatever - either way is a win in my book). All in all, a great night.

In the time since, we've worked hard to finalize potty training with him so he'd be ready to go to school. There are still accidents from time-to-time and we're still using diapers at night/nap, but I think we've made it through the worst of it. He wears his Thomas the Train undies all day even when we're out and about and does pretty darn well. He won't tell us when he has to go, so we're still asking him a million times a day, but at least we're not having accidents right in front of us or two seconds after we ask like we were a few weeks ago. Turns out that telling him that we would have to call Miss Ashley and say he wouldn't be able to go to preschool because he couldn't pee in the potty was really good motivation. Now, the previous sentence gives me the giggles because I can't believe we did that, (and hopefully none of you are mortified by it) but it's the truth and it's what worked so I guess I'll take it, right or not-so-right. Thank goodness, too, because I can't imagine taking preschool away from him; he would have been devastated! And, let's be honest. There was no way we were going to take preschool away from him (unless they kicked us out for him having too many accidents, which is a fear I confessed to some friends a couple weeks ago), so I'm glad he didn't try to call our bluff!

Last night, before bed, I read one of our old favorites, Llama, Llama Misses Mama to him and we talked about how today would go. The order of events, where he would be, where I would be - all that. He seemed fine with it (of course, during supper, he asked if he could go as soon as he got done eating). Actually, I was worried he wouldn't go to sleep because he was too excited, but Ben got him down with very little trouble. Then we joked that he'd be up at 4:00, grabbing his back pack and telling us he was ready to go.

Ummm, we should have kept our mouths shut on that one!

Technically Harrison didn't get up for the day at 4, but he did come in our room then and an hour later Raegan started making some noise, followed by more noise when HD needed to potty at 5:15, and so on and so on. So really, it is amazing we even made it to preschool this morning, but hey, we're survivors, even when we're sleepy!

Ben couldn't join us for drop off, so we took a picture before he left for his own school.

Harrison kept trying to insist that he should leave for school before Daddy, but then I let him help feed his sister Cherrios which seemed to distract both of them quite nicely and burn some of the extra time we had since we started our day so darn early. A couple times, HD made a sad face and told me that he didn't want to go to preschool, but I knew the tune would change as soon as we got there. As it turned out, using the potty one last time at home and getting dressed for the day was all it took. 

After that he ran to grab his backpack and was really excited to see that I had signs for him to hold as I took some pictures. Here is how our morning went from there:

 

"What's it say, Mama?" (Sister Bear wanted to know, too)

"Can I take it to school with me?" (I said we could leave it home to show Daddy, later)

This one is my favorite. The sign says: "I want to be: Daddy!" We asked him a couple times yesterday and today what he wants to be when he grows up and ever the philosopher, Harrison gave us some funny answers, some cute ones, and some questions. "Be? What do I want to be???" The list of responses included: Rory McIlroy (HD's favorite professional golfer - he's been able to say his name since before he turned two last year), Daddy, Harrison, and a pinata. Yes, I kid you not on all of those! I went with "Daddy" on the sign because that was his first answer this morning and it was just too sweet to pass it by.

Lesson learned on arrival at preschool: we were too early. They don't let you come back until the teacher comes to the door to collect the kids, so we had to just chill in the hallway for almost 10 minutes. Harrison was fine with this because they had a First Day treat waiting for the kids and their parents - his favorite, muffins!

Then it was finally time to go in, find a hook for his bag and get started. I could hardly get him to stand there long enough to take the picture once he got his bag up because, as he was telling me, "Preschool is starting!" I guess in this picture he's waving to all of his new friends that are about join him in their classroom. 

Proud Mama moment inside...Harrison was able to pick out his own name tag from the table where the teachers had set them out for all the kids. Maybe he is supposed to be able to do that by now? I don't know. But he did it and then we tried to sneak in a few more pictures before leaving. Here's the first one I managed to get: 

 Then another mom with a preschooler and toddler noticed us and offered to take our picture. She apologized that she didn't get one with him looking, but that's pretty typical, plus he was so excited and ready to go join the rest of the kids on the circle mat that I'm lucky he sat still long enough to even get this!

At this point I realized I had a very sleepy baby to get home for a nap and a preschooler who was ready to do his school thing. I had to call him back over for a kiss/hug goodbye and then, he was off again, blowing me a few more kisses as he ran back to play. So much for not wanting to go to preschool, eh? ;) I stood up, scanned the room and discovered that was it. He was ready and I was ready. Time to go. If he wasn't going to fuss, then neither was I. (Confession: I about lost it to the weepies two or three times this morning as we were milling about the house, but managed to keep it together).

Now it's been almost two hours since I got home and I keep thinking this is so strange, to be here with Raegan (who is napping) and not Harrison. I can't wait to go get him in an hour and hear all about how it went....

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Here he comes! Harrison, on his way to greet us after his first big day of preschool. He told me he got a couple stickers for being calm and for eating so well during snack. And his favorite part of the day was the dinosaur. I honestly don't know how to verify any of this information, but I guess that is what life as a parent will be like from now on - taking his word for it and enjoying the stories he tells, especially if they are creative. Bonus? Same shorts as he had on in the morning = no accidents! WhooHoo!

Other Bonus? Dad got to sneak away from school for 10 minutes to be there when we picked up Little Man. Harrison was able to tell both of us about all the fun he had, and he was really excited to see Raegan, too.

Later, when I was feeding the kids lunch, Harrison told me that he missed Miss Ashley. Here's hoping he always loves school and his teachers in just this way!