Muuuuch better

*deep breath*

Last night was 'meet the teacher' night at school.
We all felt a little nervous.
Logan's teacher has been teaching in our town for 33 years.
I always get a bit anxious when I hear of a teacher teaching that long because criminy, I've only been a mom for a little less than 6 years and MY kids drive me crazy sometimes. How can they keep coming back year after year ready to play and smile each day?

We walked in, Logan squeezed my hand a little tighter as we walked up to the teacher together.
She didn't even look at me.
She got down and introduced herself to Logan and talked a bit about how happy she was to meet him finally. He gave her a picture of a rainbow with a pot of gold he made for her just hours ago.
She made him feel like Monet.
He didn't say too much....but I know that will change after day one.
He smiled, listened and added a little nod and 'cool' in there.
Then, we were off to explore the too little classroom in my opinion.
We found his LOCKER. (Was it only me who had hooks all the way through until highschool? I know I went to a private school, but yes, we had HOOKS in 8th grade)
We found the gym and counted 7 basket ball hoops.
We met the principal. (Remember how they taught you how to remember principal was PAL and not PLE? 'Pal'....your principal is your 'pal'....I wonder if they still do that?)

We looked at the lunch menu, something we have been dreading.
We saw things like French Toast Sticks and Mini Corn Dogs on it. That relieved him a bit.

He bounced off looking at everything with this smile in his eyes.

When we got home, we talked about it some more.

What did you think of your teacher? "Awesome"
What did you think of the school? "Awesome"
What did you think of the gym? "Awesome"
What about the playground? "Awesome"


So there we have it folks...it's awesome.
He's even letting me take him the first day, just so he can show me how to get to my classroom in case I ever want to come visit.

Everything was going along smoothly....

And then I realized today that I have one week left with Logan before I send him off to be raised by a pack of wolves.
Basically, right?
One week.

Then came the doubt.
Did I give him everything he needed or wanted from me in the past almost 6 years?
What about the last year?
What about the change that took place since Miles was born.
He was not the only one, and yes, I realize that that was for his benefit, but yet, I doubt myself.

I think, what about the time I didn't have the TIME for him. What about the time when I probably raised my voice because of something stupid.
What about the time when I should have realized that he needed me to hug him instead of scold him.
Sure, I realize there were a million times that I did the right thing, but then, I"m not perfect.

So I sit here, one week left wondering if he'll miss me as much as I'll miss him.
Probably not, at least I hope not.
I asked him what on earth Miles and I were going to do while he was off having fun at school and he said we'd do the same things we always do.
He's right.
Except while he's off having fun, we'll be home missing him.
A lot.
Tons.

My baby is growing up and he's going to take the bus. The freaking BUS!
I want to take him, and yet, I won't.
He doesn't want me to.
He wants to ride the bus.
School is less than 1 mile away, and he said I could drive there behind the bus. He must have saw that in a show or something.
I'll do it of course, as he'll be watching for me as he gets off the bus. I'll be there, but I'll have to leave.
I don't really feel ready yet to leave.

I think back to my early years with him. He's truly my buddy. The love I have for him is so intense. His pain is my pain and his tears are usually the ones I'm holding back.
When people are mean to him, I won't be there to protect him like I want to be.
I have to let him grow up and learn to be a boy.

I've known this day would come obviously, but the fact that it's here is so profound.
Ask anyone I know in real life, when the kindergarten talk comes up I always say, 'we're ready!!'.
OK, so maybe I wasn't as ready as I thought I was.

One week to breath him in. To hold him a little longer on the rare times he lets me hug him. To look deep in his innocent eyes. To hear that little boy giggle a few more times.

I 'celebrated' a big birthday this week.
30

I'm officially in my 30's.
Not without a fight though.
I held on to the 20's with all of my might, but one can't stop the ticking of the clock.

I hate my birthday.
I do so much better with other people's birthday.
I love to bake a cake, surprise them with presents and make them feel special.
It started way before I had kids.

AS a kid I remember getting a ladder and taping up the big birthday banner on my garage door for my parents to find when they got home. As well as all the neighbors, I now realize. ;)
Before I had kids I would surprise Dave with sometimes a treasure hunt across town to find his present. I would throw surprise gatherings of friends at the bar.
Having kids, I want them to feel like a king on their birthday.

The problem with loving to celebrate people is that I'm always waiting for someone to really celebrate me. Unfortunately I married someone who doesn't quite understand that.
It's something that bothers me, because I'm selfish I guess.
I want the celebrations, the surprises, the unique gifts.
Unfortunately I have made my birthday near impossible for my husband.
I just hate my birthday.

The day after my birthday is always much better.

This year I hated it even more because I had to give up my youth.
Yes, I realize that the 30's are probably going to be my best decade ever, but I just wasn't quite ready to give away my 20's yet.
So, what I did to make myself feel better was to think about all of the things I accomplished in my 20's.

I graduated from beauty school.

I married my best friend at 23.
I purchased my first new car, and have traded it in a few times over.
I traveled to Austria, Czech Republic, Austria, Texas, Vermont, Arizona, Florida, Rhode Island, and other various states near by.
I built a home.
I purchased a boat.
I met the best friends a girl could ask for in my late teens and still have them today.
I had a beautiful baby boy who stole my heart and made me grow up instantly when the majority of my friends were still partying at the bars.
I quit my life of working without a second thought to stay home with my boy.
I lost a pregnancy.
I triumphed over infertility. And I don't mean triumphed because I had a 2nd child, I mean triumphed because I saw it through. Something I'm not always good at. I went to each appt/test and went though it because I had a vision.
That vision came through.
I survived a situation where I could have died.
I walked into my home with my new little boy who I was lucky enough to have a whole 2nd heart to let him steal.
I started a business, that while it's minuscule, has been on the news, in print and online. I'm proud of that.
As my 20's were disappearing, I found myself.
I've found my passion, and what ignites that burning feeling in my belly.
I've found myself.
I've figured out that I like to dance, something I've always steered clear from.
I found out I like pink, a color I've always thought was too girly for me.
I've found out that I really do like being a girl.
I found that I really do love myself.
Something I could definitely not say only 3 years ago.
I've accomplished so much in 30 years, and I'm ready to enter the decade that everyone talks so highly about.
And a lot will happen in 10 years. Do you realize that when I'm going to hit 40, I'll have an almost 16 year old and an almost 13 year old?
This is the decade that will fly by as I watch my children grow.

So looking back, I realized that it really is OK to be 30.
I have a lot to be proud of, don't you think?

And I guess it was about time I reached the decade that all of my neighbors are close to leaving! :)