Osmosis

Sometimes when I read a really well written book (and there have been a lot of those over the last six or so months) I get so caught up in the experiences of the characters that I will identify very strongly with the characters. Sometimes if the story is one that I can really identify with, there can be confusion about whether I'm remembering feeling something that I've read about, or something I've done. Not often, but sometimes.

One thing that I've noticed over the last year or so is that I'm a big old sponge for soaking up the residual emotions of the people around me. Anger, depression, anxiety... it all seems to flow right into my frame of mind like water into a cup.

The trick is to know when it's happening, separate myself from the outside emotions as much as possible and keep on keeping on.

It's not easy. Hell no, it is so not easy. It's not easy because on top of that, I need to be there to give my support to those people in my life whom I love.  I've got to be there to listen to their bad days and hurts and frustrations. Not only do I have to be there, I want to be there, I need to be there. I love my husband and he deserves and needs my emotional support. I love my daughters and I need and want to give them my emotional support.

So where am I going with this? I needed to get it out, put it down so that it isn't so tied up inside me that I'm not sure where my anger, depression, anxiety starts (if it starts at all) and where the other begins. Things have been a bit (and when I say "a bit" I'm understating the case) tense around here lately and I've been writhing with the possibility that post partum depression is trying to set down some roots. And I'm breathing, deep deep breaths, reminding my self to eat, getting (well, as much as I can with an almost crawling teething baby) enough sleep and double checking with myself about how I'm feeling and how everyone around me is feeling.

And this is where I end this post.

She's Perfect

of course.
Of course she is.

I should know, I've been there for almost every single moment of her 5+ years. She's smart, funny, full of imagination, she knows how to push my buttons and as of yesterday she's navigating whole days without me. I'm proud, I'm so happy for her (there is excitement in her eyes every morning when we get her up) and I worry.

Of course I worry. Who (besides the husband) knows her better than I do? I know she's going to have some bumpy days. I know that there are going to be tears (there already have been right where I expected them to happen) and I know that she's going to be fine. In my head I know she's going to be fine. With her personal quirks, her ready to please attitude and her belief that every kid out there is a friend waiting to be made. And then there's her inner loner.

And then I sit outside the school grounds waiting for her first 1/2 day to be over scanning the school yard for her glowing braided head. When I finally catch sight of her she's wondering around by herself. By her posture and the look on her face she's pretending to be a T-rex, alone. This isn't new by any means. The husband and I have noticed her go of by herself at play groups and play dates. Both the husband and I are a little reserved around new groups of people so we get it. We get that large groups can be overwhelming, that sometimes doing stuff by yourself is more comfortable, sometimes it's the best fun and sometimes it's lonely. And there's the rub.

Growing up and even right now, I've found social situations a challenge. I can't help but to want better for her (In some cases she is better than I am. As an example: inviting perfect strangers the next booth over, in a restaurant over to our house, address included, because she's been playing with their kids for five minutes is so not something I would ever have done at the age of 3.5). To make friends easily. To fit in. Watching her play alone in a crowd of laughing yelling kids her own age and over was a little heartbreaking and also a moment filled with resisting the urge to run onto the playground to help her make a friend. And then just as I was wiping away a stray little tear one, then two then three other children surrounded her and then they were all off and running.

I guess what I'm getting at is that this whole sending our first born off to school has really been much harder on me than her. She's going to be OK, she's perfect just the way she is and she'll be alright. I just worry. That's a Mama's job right?

Getting Schooled

The Peanut has started school. We're not at the point where she's there full day yet since they work up to it in order to ease them into a brand new schedule. So far we've done an hour on the first day and three hours on the second. Starting Monday we go for a half day until Wednesday when she walks through that kindergarten door and I'm all alone with the Bean for six hours.

So how did she do? Well, she walked into her class and didn't look back. Her second day was the same (mainly because we were running late thanks to transit and she walked in the door at the stroke of barely on time). I'm loving getting to hear about what her day was like and getting a big hug as soon as she walks out the door.

Visual Diary

I've got school on the brain. Between the Peanut's first day this coming week to the yearly desire to go back myself.

First Day Jitters

I've decided to have them early so that we minimize the stress next Friday when the Peanut starts her first day of kindergarten. In fact in one week we go in for our first parent teacher conference where we'll find out which teacher we get and what her days are going to be like for the first few weeks before we dive right in to full days.

The Bean is going to be one lonely baby once that starts up, she adores the Peanut, beams rays of pure joy when she plays with her. We're looking around for some play groups we can join to pick up the slack.

We've got all our school supplies and new clothes and shoes compliments of Grandma's on either side and after a whirlwind trip made by my parents for my nieces baby shower last weekend the Peanut is also sporting a trimmed head of hair too.

I'll be posting pictures of her first day next week. Here's hoping that I keep the proud Mama tears to a minimum and that they happen after we've sent her off into class.