First Day

I was kidding myself thinking this wasn't a big deal.

Not that I wasn't excited for her, and not that I didn't do a zillion things in preparation for this morning (more on that later), but I quite successfully ignored that pit in my stomach warning me that this was a big deal. It's enormity smacked me in the face this morning as I found myself crying, standing outside a classroom door, listening to my little one sobbing on the other side. SOBBING. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start this story last night, where I found myself on the couch watching the finale of True Blood while sewing a bunch of felt hearts.

I got the idea last week that it would be nice to send Alyce to her first day of Kindergarten with some extra love in the form of tiny felt hearts, and of course I didn't start this ambitious project until last night after nine. I might have started around eight, but instead I spent an hour puttering in the kitchen packing Alyce's lunch and snacks for today. Should it take a person one hour to make a three-year-old's lunch? Probably not. But should I send strawberries or melon, or both? And will she be able to open her new sandwich box all on her own? And is turkey and applesauce and a muffin really enough for snack? I know what you're thinking: snap out of it. But last night all these decisions felt huge. I made her a packed lunch for years at daycare, but something about the big-kid lunch at Kindergarten sent me over the edge. B when it was finally time to make the hearts I was comforted by the knowledge that both Eric and Alcide would be on television with her for an entire hour. It helped. I couldn't wait to give them to her in the morning. My big girl was going to school!

We've been talking a lot about school over the past few weeks, and last week she met her teacher. We got the backpack, the lunch bag, the new shoes, some new clothes. We were set. So it was no surprise that she woke up a little excited this morning. I was excited right along with her. I excitedly gave Alyce her new hearts, sewn with love by the woman who gave birth to her, and after a quick glance she threw them on the floor. Instead she wanted to make pancakes.

I got over it. I made pancakes.

We had a lot of time at home before school this morning (as happens when you start the day on the wrong side of six), and we coasted along as usual: breakfast, getting dressed, some Dora with her sister. A few different times she would get quiet and tell me that she didn't want to go to school, but the rest of the time she was her usual bouncing-through-the-house self, declaring that she would a great student. Again, I should have sensed that it was coming. I should have known that the bounce in her step was just buying some extra time before her realization (and mine) that school was really happening, that it was no longer just talk. Sometimes we can be so silly.

All morning I kept asking her if she wanted to keep one of the hearts in her pocket. That way you can keep it close, I said, and know that Mama is thinking about you. And every time she just shook her head. Eventually she agreed that she'd keep them in her backpack, just in case she needed them. She might have even rolled her eyes. We said good-bye to Papa and Shira and headed out the door. Walking from the car to her classroom door I couldn't stop smiling at how ridiculous she looked with her big backpack. How could this tiny creature of mine be ready for school? Wasn't she just living inside my uterus? There just has to be more time between uterus and Kindergarten, right? I could feel the collective shock of mothers and fathers all around me, as we all quieted down long enough, above the background noise of new clothes and new friends, to realize that our little ones were about to take a really big step all on their own.

That's when it started. Alyce's excitement turned to holding my hand, which turned to wrapping her little arms around my neck, which is when the tears began. The school bell rang and her teacher called them all into class, just the kids, not the parents. In a panic Alyce started pulling at the zipper on her backpack, twisting her arms around trying to get it off her back. And then I realized. She wanted her hearts. Maybe I just need one in my pocket, she said. She chose a tiny purple heart, put her backpack back on, and started sobbing. SOBBING. All the other kids were in the classroom now, everyone but my Alyce. Her teacher came over and told Alyce softly that it was time to go. Alyce continued to cry, and it wasn't that annoying whiny-cry that kids do when they aren't getting their way. She was doing the ugly-cry, the one that comes from a deeper place. Her teacher took her hand out of mine and led Alyce inside. She'll be alright, Danielle, she said. And I knew she would be, but at that moment my heart broke for Alyce. No matter how much fun she'll have today, and no matter how excited I am for her, that sadness was real. And no matter what I do, I can't protect her from those feelings. Fortunately, there will be other feelings today, too.

Maybe I knew all along that today was going to be big, and that she'd need those little hearts.

Blue

I've been a bit down.

It's inevitable, I guess. Looking for work can be a rough business. I know I need to be patient, and I really am trying, but some days I would rather have a tantrum than be patient, and no one can take that away from me.

Did I mention that my husband is also not working (though for different reasons)? And that we're both home all the time? And that I love him very much but that we need some space every once in awhile? Yeah, that too. Poor Children, I think even they have had too much time at home with us. I think I saw Alyce trying to sneak out early for school. Sorry, little one, but school is closed on Saturdays.

But we're all good.  Amidst all the crazy and the sometimes-bored-at-home-ness, we pull through. I'm knitting more, thinking about unpacking those last few boxes (just thinking), and doing some reading (thank you, Tina Fey, for being hilarious). I'm also trying to proactively get my act in gear: less time moping at home and more time at the Farmer's Market (this morning), the Cambridge Fall Fair (this afternoon), and a yoga class (tomorrow). Like I said, we're good.

Except for Shira, who is teething. She's currently accepting donations of frozen melon, some extra-strength infant Tylenol, and a big foam hammer with which to chase her big sister (to help with the stress of it all). I'd include a photo, but she's too angry to even look at me.

P.S. We're fine. Really, mum.

Captured

When Alyce tells me a story I always find myself wanting to capture her, just wrap her up and keep in my pocket for later. She throws her whole self into the telling, using great gestures, faces, and variation in volume. The rest of the world keeps moving while Alyce stands still in time, elaborating on, for example, how Cinderella is twenty years old and now to old for school, unlike Alyce, who is just the perfect age.

She is indeed the perfect age for school. This afternoon we are taking Alyce to her Junior Kindergarten orientation, where she will meet her new teacher and maybe introduce herself to some new friends. Unlike the rest of the world it seems, Alyce doesn't actually start class until next week. We are all very excited about this development, for all the reasons you might imagine (ranging from the educational all the way to some quiet at home). I loved school so very much and I hope with all my heart that Alyce does, too. Loving school helped me get through a lot in my life, even when things (school included) were difficult. Most of all I want Alyce to feel that magic I used to feel when I'd sit in a new classroom, just thinking about all the things I might learn.

Seriously, I'm not making this up. I really did love school that much. I still do. (Career graduate student, anyone?)

Good luck, Alyce!

We paint

What do we do on Labour Day? We paint. And then I dump The Children into the kitchen sink and hose them down. Shira only ingested a few cups of paint (give or take) and thoroughly enjoyed her first real painting day. In fact she liked it so much that she screamed and threw down her little body when it was time to clean up. You, in India, you heard her right? That's my girl, nothing if not an eager painter.

You'll notice that Shira is painting in a white shirt. Smart, no? Alyce and I had painting aprons, but none for Shira. So now I have a sewing project. It won't be stylish, it might not be pretty, but it will be made with love. Speaking of projects, I'm almost (well, mostly) finished the blanket I'm knitting for Shira. I'm using a Purl Bee pattern that is, as promised, very easy, but it takes forever. I am confident, however, that Shira will love it, and then I can get started on their sweaters. With any luck they'll be finished before the end of winter. I've decided on a oatmeal colour for Alyce and a soft blue for Shira. I'll keep you posted!

What projects are you working on? I'm hoping to get a lot done on the blanket tonight while watching Bridesmaids with Matt. I've seen it before and I'm still laughing about it. I think I'd like to be friends with Maya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig.

I'm not the only one

I discovered a new blog last week and it's a good one. Besides my general coveting of her New York City life (it is on my list, you know), it seems we are both in the same position of trying to find work, with a humanities degree in our pockets and some beautiful children to show for our time off. Among other things, nyc taught me is a place for Sharon to chronicle her job search, and share some of the tips she's received along the way. So in other words, rather than just complain about not finding work, she's actually doing something (in my defense, however, my complaining comes from a place of needing to pay rent)! When I read Sharon's opening description of her job search I realized we were kindred spirits:

My newest lesson: NYC Taught me that no one wants to hire anyone without professional experience.  The real kicker for me today was when I got rejected from a temp agency. I get it. I've wasted my twenties by having babies. But look at how good I am at it! I'm a baby making machine!

Find the rest of her post here.

 
So please do check it out and send your best job thoughts to the both of us!

A quick list

A quick ten things about my day, in case you are interested:

1. My mum invited me and The Children for a fancy lunch at her work, a beautiful inn and spa. Alyce enjoyed her first Shirley Temple.

2. I am sick with a summer cold and have blown my nose 4,987 times today.

3. It is a billion degrees today and don't even get me started about the humidity.

4. I am on the trail of a wonderful job that involves cheese. That's all I'm allowed to say at the moment. I am in no way close to getting the job at present, but I'm working on it.

5. In related news, I think I'm developing an intolerance to dairy. I probably should not be making that public, considering my potential career in cheese. But I'm an over-sharer and it was inevitable.

6. Shira is sick and teething. And still unbelievably cute.

7. I helped my grandparents prepare for their garage sale tomorrow morning. My grandparents spend a few years buying things they don't need at other people's garage sales, and then they have their own sale to get rid of it all. And then the cycle begins anew.

8. Matt and I have been keeping track of our our food spending lately and today we tallied up August. I am unwilling to reveal the actual dollar amount, but let me just say that we really enjoy eating. And we like the good olive oil. And the good chocolate. And the wine.

9. Alyce declared that she would like us to have two more kids. One will be named Alyce, she said, and the other will be named Shira. She's on to something, that girl.

10. I'm currently drooling all over the second season of Mad Men. Christina Hendricks is dreamy.


And your day? Hope it was cooler than mine.

No job means more ice cream

No matter how frustrating it is not to have found a job, the extra ice cream dates have been nice.


P.S. I'm tired after a long day of being a grown-up. Off to bed.
P.P.S. But before I go to bed, I need to point you in the direction of this wonderful post. For all the time we spend online it is good to be reminded of common sense civility. It's not about being nice, but about not being a dumbass.