Liam turned 6 this weekend. On Saturday. And I did okay. I was more stressed about hosting my first Thanksgiving (and cooking my first turkey) on Thursday and having a birthday party for Liam on Saturday (not to mention Black Friday shopping).
I suppose, in my own little way, I kept my mind busy. As long as I was occupied, I wasn't focused on the fact that my first baby, my little "dooder" was turning SIX on Saturday.
We filled his room with green and yellow balloons and gave him a Green Bay Packers blanket, along with surprising him with Aunts, Uncle, Ma'am, Papa and Grandma and Grandpa at his party. And yet, it never hit me. I even lit all six candles and carried the cake to him.
But tonight. At dinner. I asked him to set the table and handed him the plates and silverware and he said, "Mommy, can I have a real fork?" I realized I gave him two adult silverware and three toddler silverware.
"But can't you use the one I gave you," I asked.
"No, Mommy. I'm a big boy. I'm six. I need a real fork."
I don't know what it was, but the "I'm six. I need a real fork" really hit me. He IS six. He DOES need a real fork. And then, I started thinking (which is always dangerous). He's SIX. In ten years, he'll be driving. In eight years, he'll have a permit. In three years he'll probably be taller than me....where is my little baby?? My little dooder?
And I take a breath. Because, only once in a while now, but he still does, after his bath, he asks me to cradle him and sing "he's my baby, he's my baby" like I did when Daddy was in Iraq. He still remembers. I hope he always does. Whether he is 6 or 66.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
An Update: A Move, A Conferences, A LOT
Sorry it's been so long since I updated the blog...but we've been busy.
We moved. To a house. With a garage. And it's AWESOME. I can't wait to get some pictures on the wall to help with the acoustics. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the vaulted ceilings. But the toddler screams? The echos? Yeah.
The house is about 500 MORE square feet than what we had before. And TWO more bedrooms. And a two car attached garage. And a doorbell. And a vegetable sprayer. And a yard. And a closer bus stop for Liam. And no stairs to haul kids, groceries etc etc...
And it is LESS than what we were paying at the apartment.
Blessed. I feel so VERY blessed. And speaking of being blessed, we had Liam's first Parent/Teacher conference. To be honest, I felt a little weird. For the first time, I was attending a parent/teacher conference in a elementary school...and I wasn't the kid at home sweating bullets.
And here is where I turn into the mom who brags. Don't like moms who brag, stop reading. You've been warned.
Liam is in Kindergarten. We were informed he's reading at a 2nd-3rd grade level. They even removed him (and another kid) from the class during reading time for a special 2 on 1 with a specialist. Because he was "a reader" as opposed to the other kids in his class. And, as the teacher said, "he even blew me away with words that he knew. Words that didn't follow the normal rules, he got them."
Yes. This is my kid. I remember reading books in first grade and thinking "This is SO stupid. I don't care about Dick and Jane. Can I go home and continue reading my chapter book? Please?"
I even had my first grade teacher call me a "liar". No, really, a liar. We were talking about clocks with hands. I told her we had a clock at my house that had three hands when she said that "clocks only had two hands". I came home crying and the next day, my dad (and hero), came to school with the clock that was my Great Grandmother Sarah (and name sake's) clock in her one room school house. It had three hands. Minute, Hour and Day. She had never seen anything like that.
Most parents say, "My child is brilliant" and as much as I try to NOT be THAT parent, I am. Because he is. He wants to go to Harvard, Notre Dame, Iowa State (because that's where Mommy went) or The University of Texas (because that's where Woody went).
Yeah, he's a smarty pants. Just like his mom. Speaking of mom, I attended a fundraiser this week with Jeff Mullen, my new political job, and had the opportunity to meet Newt Gingrich.
Smarty Pants.
We moved. To a house. With a garage. And it's AWESOME. I can't wait to get some pictures on the wall to help with the acoustics. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the vaulted ceilings. But the toddler screams? The echos? Yeah.
The house is about 500 MORE square feet than what we had before. And TWO more bedrooms. And a two car attached garage. And a doorbell. And a vegetable sprayer. And a yard. And a closer bus stop for Liam. And no stairs to haul kids, groceries etc etc...
And it is LESS than what we were paying at the apartment.
Blessed. I feel so VERY blessed. And speaking of being blessed, we had Liam's first Parent/Teacher conference. To be honest, I felt a little weird. For the first time, I was attending a parent/teacher conference in a elementary school...and I wasn't the kid at home sweating bullets.
And here is where I turn into the mom who brags. Don't like moms who brag, stop reading. You've been warned.
Liam is in Kindergarten. We were informed he's reading at a 2nd-3rd grade level. They even removed him (and another kid) from the class during reading time for a special 2 on 1 with a specialist. Because he was "a reader" as opposed to the other kids in his class. And, as the teacher said, "he even blew me away with words that he knew. Words that didn't follow the normal rules, he got them."
Yes. This is my kid. I remember reading books in first grade and thinking "This is SO stupid. I don't care about Dick and Jane. Can I go home and continue reading my chapter book? Please?"
I even had my first grade teacher call me a "liar". No, really, a liar. We were talking about clocks with hands. I told her we had a clock at my house that had three hands when she said that "clocks only had two hands". I came home crying and the next day, my dad (and hero), came to school with the clock that was my Great Grandmother Sarah (and name sake's) clock in her one room school house. It had three hands. Minute, Hour and Day. She had never seen anything like that.
Most parents say, "My child is brilliant" and as much as I try to NOT be THAT parent, I am. Because he is. He wants to go to Harvard, Notre Dame, Iowa State (because that's where Mommy went) or The University of Texas (because that's where Woody went).
Yeah, he's a smarty pants. Just like his mom. Speaking of mom, I attended a fundraiser this week with Jeff Mullen, my new political job, and had the opportunity to meet Newt Gingrich.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
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