First day: First and Third Grade

The kids woke up bright and early today, dragging me from my sleep at 5:45. Oh, that first day excitement! They were all dressed and raring to go by 6-- which was about an hour and fifteen minutes BEFORE we need to head out.

 

I managed to slow them down a little with pancakes and friendly chatter but mostly they spent the morning running around as loudly as possible. Jack was confused and got upset about the backpacks, so we packed him a "lunch" into his little robot backpack for him to wear to school with us. 

 

The walk, when we finally set out the door, was really nice. It's about 20 minutes or so on a nice path through the neighborhood and a park. Kurt took the morning off to come with us for the big day, so we all got a chance to be together and enjoy the energy. We were surrounded by other kids and families on their way as well, lending the whole trip a really festive feeling, like a parade.

 

Drop off was quick: we walked the girls to their classes, snapped a few pictures, kissed, hugged and headed out. I surprised myself with just a little bit of teariness. I've been very excited for the school year to start, but that doesn't change the fact that I always miss them when they're gone.

We dropped Silvia first and she smiled and waved us off, showing barely any nervousness. I always forget that when the moment arrives, it's Silvia that leaps and Anna that hesitates.

 

And hesitate she did. We brought her into class to find that her desk is tucked up in the corner under an old board with the hand sanitizer dispenser right in her ear. She was squished between the wall and a rambunctious boy. After we hugged, she started to giggle nervously and she kept trying to hold on to us like a little monkey. When she was hugging Jack I half-thought we'd have to leave him there since she wouldn't let him go. When we finally made it out the door with a big wave, she hopped up, ran to Kurt and asked for "just one more hug". At that point she was a little bit misted up and trying to hide it. That's, of course, always what gets me. I hate having to leave her while she's upset. But of course we did leave, just like all the other parents, and walked home through the rapidly warming, moist air.

 

I'm off to pick them up in a little bit, after a day of Jack having me all to himself. He was upset after the girls were gone-- at first. Then I think he realized the new situation and did his best to take advantage of being Numero Uno for the day. So begins the school year, 2013-14. Let's hope it's a great one!

 

 

In Memory:

 

Today my friend's little daughter Isobella would have turned 3 years old. So here's a candle lit for a birthday that should have been.

 

A year off?

I seem to have somehow skipped a year in my kids' lives. I mean, I know I was there and I remember stuff happened but since moving to Texas, and really since that whole 3rd baby bit (ah, Jack. How you have rocked our world.) the timeline has a lot of hiccups and all 'round misses.

So be it. I think that's how life goes sometimes: you blink and it's been a month. Hours, days of your life swallowed up in the day-to-day tussles that carry you through from morning coffee to exhausted bed time. Then there are the days where you blink... and blink... and yawn... and stare at the frozen clock waiting for the sibling squabbles to somehow stop, your wine glass to fill up and your husband to miraculously walk through the door two hours early with an armful of flowers and a surprise babysitter. (That doesn't happen all that often either, but it doesn't stop me from hoping when those looooooong days hit.)

We're still here. The girls wrapped up the school year with mixed feelings of excitement and sadness. After 15 long months on the market, our home in Colorado Springs finally sold, freeing us up to buy a new place here in Texas. In March we moved from our rental into our very own home and they are changing schools. It's hard to leave friends and this will be the third school Anna's attended since she started elementary. We've been in the new house most of the spring and summer and they met some neighborhood kids and sorted out their favorite stomping grounds, which makes a world of difference when you're lonely.

Jack is still Jack. He just turned three, is wildly rambunctious, super adorable and oh-so-boy. I know, I know, setting gender stereotypes is a terrible thing and I'm ruining him. But it's true! It's just different raising a boy. The energy and physicality, the way he expresses himself, the way his emotions run in fits and starts, the aggression, the total "that's MY mama" possessiveness, it's all distinct from what I knew with the girls. He picked up a stick and made it a sword long before he'd ever seen or heard of one. My girls picked them up and made them into magic wands. Of course, he does that, too. There's no way he could grow up with two big sisters and not spend a lot of time dressed up as a princess.

This summer was our 10th wedding anniversary and we decided to celebrate where it all began, at The Cliff House in Manitou Springs, CO. We had a big party with all our friends and family and it was amazing. We spent the week leading up to the party visiting family and then ventured out on our own for a week to Telluride. Neither Kurt nor I had ever been there before. It's amazing, a truly beautiful place.

The whole vacation left the Schwartzes with our hearts aching for the mountains. It was hard indeed to drive back as the land grew flatter, the air hotter and steamier. We've been in Texas two years now, but it's still not home. That's something we need to work on.

School starts next week for the girls, a couple weeks after for Jack. It's a new beginning, in a way, at another new school in another new neighborhood. As such, I'm embracing a new chapter for the kids' blog, to try and keep up on all the adventures they seem to tumble into on a day-to-day basis.

Pictures from this summer soon to come.

Are you happy?

"Are you happy?"

For Jack, throughout the day, it's important to do a quick check of the family state. It matters to him. It's personal. "Mommy, are you happy? Daddy, are you happy? Anna, Cici, are you happy?". I often get an even sweeter treatment when, at a random moment, he will crawl in my lap and say, "I do so love you" and give me a hug. This is followed immediately by, "Are you happy?".

But the question is only part of the puzzle. You can't say no, not really, right now I'm tired/sad/annoyed/worried. If you do, he gets upset. "No you're not! You're happy!". My boy NEEDS you to be happy. He wants it, he revels in it, not just for how it reflects on him but for his sense of security in all things. Knowing this, that by simply feeling good I can make everything alright for him, makes me happy.

Last week we learned that a friend's little girl, just Jack's age, died in an incredibly tragic accident. I spent the days after in a haze of sadness, every moment wondering in the back of my head how her mother keeps breathing, how she ever stops crying, if she could ever stop going back over and over those lost moments trying to turn back time and make it different.

I was folding some laundry on the floor and Jack came over, climbed straight through a tidy pile of towels and sat in my lap. Until that moment I hadn't even realized I'd been crying. "Mommy, I do so love you. Are you happy?".

No. I wasn't happy. Not at all. But I gave him a hug and said, "Yes. I'm happy", because that's what he needed. It is a gift I can give him, something simple that makes his day. Being able to do that, having that chance in that moment of sadness, made me happy.

I pray that my friend can someday find some measure of that happiness again, though surrounded by her grief. Somehow, I hope it is possible. Until then, send up a prayer for innocence lost too soon. Then go find something beautiful, like a superhero playing outer space and wearing a pirate hat, and remember to be happy, even if it's just a tiny little spark on an otherwise dark day.

She was a happy child, too.