sugar and spice

i don't know why, the days you all are the biggest jerkface's, seem to be the days i am most introspective about motherhood. perhaps, its because we have to go through the valleys to appreciate the summits. or perhaps its because, after a very long monday and enough of the three of you, i found this when i went in to check on you:

the big ones share a room with their own beds, but tonight i found you two snuggled up in a single twin bed. for all those shadows of doubts i have about being a parent and doing right by you, these are the moments that sum up all the hard work and strife. 

its the middle of august and after having the entire month of july be hotter than seven kinds of hell, the mornings have turned cool and crisp. its exactly the feeling of back to school. no matter how old you get, its a familiar feeling, one that makes me want new shoes, a fancy back pack and never-been-used pens. vivian started preschool at ucp last week and i surprised myself at how emotional i was about it. i had no reservations about her adaptability or aptitude, but something felt so different about her starting school versus jack starting last year. 

the thing about you, little bug, is that you have such a big personality. . .

and you were really excited about going to school. we even celebrated after your back-to-school night by having a pizza party with your friends. . .

so when the big day came, i knew you were ready. i knew you were excited. and i was excited for you.

you're enthusiasm was evident initially and we were rolling with it but then in the blink of an eye, you looked different to me. . .

standing there, with your hair blowing, big red bow at full attention, you suddenly appeared so small to me. your pink leopard print backpack dwarfed you and its rare to see you so presitine! you looked like a two year old full of anticipation and uncertainty all at the same time. you clutched pink bunny tightly, your faithful security blanket, and out of no where, your larger than life personality dimmed and my independent little toe head looked very vulnerable. 

it's a side of you i am not used to seeing. after all, you're the fearless little girl who leaps across the monkey bars, the first to hop on the parallel bars at gymnastics and you rarely shed a tear after the several times a day you wipe out. it was a humbling and sacred moment for me, as your mommy, and a nice reminder of how tender and special you are. sugar and spice, and everything nice, that's what you are my little bug and i wouldn't have you any other way. 

i am happy to recollect, that your first day went "perfect," as you exclaimed to me when i picked you up! you seemed to thrive in that environment and were happy as a little clam. you told me all about toodles, the class bunny rabbit and how you "chased him all day, momma" and that he "scratched you, but it only hurt a little bit." i am afraid dear mr toodles doesn't know what he's in for and that no one informed him lenny was coming to town. 

i hope he's a fast rabbit and i hope you stop growing up so quickly.