Twenty One (and some) Months; 4 and a half (plus a fraction more)

Daphne, we are rounding the bases and heading toward home... if home means another birthday. And in a way I am shocked that you are not actually already 2. I mean, you are such a BIG GIRL and such an INDEPENDENT GIRL.

Cooper, did you know that you are closer to 5 than 4 and... well, I am still puzzling on how to finish that sentence, because how can I complete a thought that I can barely wrap my head around.

Here is the deal kids. You are growing up.

*SHOCK*
*AWE*
*GASP*
*TEARS*

Or is it just me? It is bizarre when I realize it is (past) time to do one of these "anniversary" posts for one (or both) of you. Because, in my mind I always have to hit pause and reset and write about the age you are, when in this moment you are both so much older than that, and still wrapped up in a swaddling blanket on your way home from the hospital.

Cooper, you are this wise, sweet, compassionate, BRILLIANT little boy, little spirit, little person, little human, little man.

You say things that make me think. You challenge me to answer difficult questions. I don't know why some people are bad, or what happens to our spirits when we die. Not definitively, and I have had to ask myself what I believe and then think of a way to explain that to you, and it has been an overwhelming experience. And those are just two of the many millions of questions you have asked since turning four. You ask hard questions. You ask direct questions. And you listen to the answers AND THEN ASK FOLLOW UP QUESTIONS. I adore this about you. It is the reason I have to remind myself you are ONLY four and a half, because your level of comprehension is insane. I am careful how I speak around you, the words I use, the topics I talk about. You are a sponge like never before, and when you ask me something and then ask me a question about my answer, it makes it all too apparent that what I say matters now, as much as (if not more than) it ever did. I feel so blessed to have been entrusted with you.

You are a treasure. And then you are so totally four. You crawl up in my lap when you are tired, you need to cuddle and snuggle and must compete with your sister at EVERYTHING.

Daphne, there is literally no way that you are not two yet. You are this tall beautiful creature, intent on wearing my clothes and determined to do it "SELF". You recently insisted on walking around like this for part of the day:

You have the vocabulary to rival most two (or twenty) year olds. I feel almost sad that I didn't do posts to document that at 12 months you had X number of words, and at 13 months you had X number of words, but the truth is, I am not sure I could have kept count for very long. You put words together into sentences. You communicate better than many full grown people. It is insane. Remarkably, while you are still LOUD, you have grown so much easier as you have aged. You are a communicative little person and it seems as though, with each word you added to your reportoire, you settled a little. A VERY little. For you are still the most in-your-face-hear-me-roar-I-AM-DAPHNE Daphne in the world, but now with less screaming and more giggling. I see glmpses of the baby that I am so desparately wanting to hold on to when I rock you to bed at night, because you still need a "ba ba" and you still need your snuggles. When I took you to the mall and we walked in to GAP where some pop music was being piped in, you literally stopped mid step and started to dance. And you danced. You didn't care who was around, who was watching. YOU. JUST. DANCED. And that is you my sweet little one. Dancing through life, and reminding me that I will have so much more fun if sometimes I stop and dance, too. (Though not in GAP, so much).

Oh, and you totally can work some high heels (God help your father).

Dancing Backwards in High Heels

And... the OTHER post about the first day of school.

I am a working mom. I have been for a long time. It isn't easy. It isn't necessarily ideal, even. But it is reality, and it comes with a lot of benefits. I don't really think about an alternative where I stay home, because it just isn't in the cards for me right now.

There is a song sitting in the CD changer in my car, and one of the lines goes "I've been juggling, struggling, closing big deals, dancing backwards in high heels" and yes, that is so, YES. Literally.

Even when I feel like I am kicking ass in my job (which, believe it or not, I actually do most of the time these days), I still feel like I am struggling to balance it all.

Dancing backwards in high heels.

And yesterday was about dropping off for pre-K in high heels. High heels and, foolishly, not water proof mascara.

Steve had to get to work early, as usual, so I stayed home late to do the drop off myself, and planned on leaving work early to do the pick up as well. So, the drop off. PAINFUL, in a visceral kind of way. Watching his confident face go from excited, happy and ready to go, to shy, nervous and ready to GO HOME. I hated it. I didn't want to talk about it in the first day post, because the first day post is a HAPPY post, because it really is. He WAS happy. But not when I dropped him off. I didn't want that post to talk about how he clung to my hand, my leg, my arms, my anything, and BEGGED to go home. I don't want to talk about how I tried to barter, tried to convince, tried to bribe, tried to engage, tried to... EVERYTHING, and none of it worked, so I ended up peeling his fingers from around my hand and told him I loved him and turned and walked away while he SCREAMED "NO MOMMY! WHERE IS MY MOMMY?" while the director held him and he cried. I didn't want to talk about how tears hit my high heels before I even opened the door. How I had to not look back for fear of turning around and taking him home with me. How I called 4 different numbers before someone picked up and left blubbering messages on 2 of them. How my stomach was in knots all the way to my office, and even though the director had left messages at all my numbers within 10 minutes of when I left saying he was fine, how the knots stayed there the whole day.

It was horrible. It was the kind of experience that made me want to go home and cry, and instead I just had to wipe the mascara off and go to my office and work.

Dancing backwards in high heels.

For them.

First Day of Pre K

A full month (practically) after we started PAYING for Pre-Kindergarten, Cooper finally was able to attend his first day.

Check out this handsome guy:

He had nerves in his belly. I had nerves in MY belly.

We spent the whole drive there blowing the nerves out of our bellies. Even when Cooper told me his nerves were all gone, I told him I needed him to help me keep blowing mine out. Yes, he is closer to 5 than 4. Yes, he will LOVE school. And, yes, it still doesn't matter, he is my BABY.

It wasn't an easy drop off. All the nerves we had blown out, came bubbling right back up when we went through the door. Mine, which had not really left, just grew.

I knew I had no options. I knew I just had to go. So I did. And he did great!

He cannot wait to get back at it.

We celebrated with a Blizzard.