My kids are magic. I don’t know how, or why, exactly. But somehow they manage to communicate telepathically on a level that I don’t think they’re capable of verbalizing yet. They never have temper tantrums at the same time. They never get sick at the same time. They never demand 100% of my attention at the same time. And when one of them is having a God awful horrific day, and I feel like the worst mother in the world (suffice to say that Kindergarten 2.0 isn’t going any better than 1.0 went) – one of them will choose that day to go all day, for the very first time, with NO ACCIDENTS.
So I’m not going to blog right now about how Sam curled in a fetal position, shaking, and threw stuffed animals at me so I wouldn’t force him to go to school. I’m not going to blog about how I cried all over the kindergarten teacher and sobbed thru a conversation with the school adjustment counselor. I’m not going to write about how much I hope tomorrow goes better, about the plan that involves two teachers and a principal lined up to coax and, if necessary, lug, his screaming self into the classroom. I’m not going to write about how I love this boy with my whole heart, and watching him go thru this is harder than anything I’ve ever had to do. I’m not going to think about that at all.
I’m going to brag about my brilliant and beautiful not even two and a half year old Julianna. Because today, for the very first time, she went all day, including a trip to Sam’s doctor for his regularly scheduled physical (where his awesome pediatrician assured me that he’s not crazy and I’m not a horrible mother, he’s just an extremely introverted, stubborn and attached six year old boy who will learn that he’s safe and secure when I’m not there, but won’t learn it willingly, and we just have to love him thru it, and know that he’s strong enough to do it – but I’m not blogging about that). I’m going to blog about a girl who refuses to drink out of a sippie cup because she’s too big. And about Rebecca Rubin, who faithfully gets dragged into the bathroom to sit on the extra little girl potty next to Julie. And how she washes her hands afterwards (Julie, not Rebecca), and also insists on brushing her teeth as well – and I figure the more oral hygiene the better, right?
Because my kids are magic. My kids are awesome and amazing and they accomplish things that I never expect them too, like potty training a full year earlier than her older siblings. And tomorrow, my boy will go to school and he will be awesome. Because he is.
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