First and foremost, my spawn are no longer helpless babies in need of my constant diapering and attention. They no longer require I wash dishes with one eye one on a fork in hand and the other eye on a toddler and bundle on the floor to make sure one doesn't roll under the coffee table, get stuck behind the sofa, or put an eraser in it's mouth - or that the other doesn't open the back door and wander down the road, drown in the toilet, or for gosh sakes EAT something out of the toilet. I now have kids. Walking, talking, reading, watching, listening, independent, messy, sassy, dynamic, absolutely splendid KIDS.
Should I re-name this blog "Kid Poop and Business Suits?" We've still got a fair amount of random poop around. Some things may never change.
Niko - 3 years, 8 months, and 12 days old.
"Mom, I love to huuw babies."
"You love to HURT BABIES!!!? NOW WHY WOULD YOU SAY A THING LIKE THAT!!?!
(mother in panic thinking her child is a future serial killer or social deviant)
"I love to HOLD babies, mom! On my lap, I like to hold them."
"Oooooh. Oh. Yes. I love to hold babies, too, Niko."
(mother relieved that her little boy is as sweet as she always dreamed her little boy would be!)
Kyra - 6 years, 6 months, and 13 days old
This young lady continues to become more of a preteen at the age of six, and while she is still absolutely sweet and a little girl, I see glimpses of a sixteen year old within that six year old waiting to break out SOON. Gives me hot flashes.
We recently attended Kyra's first grade parent-teacher conferences and her teacher professes her to be very smart and a complete joy in class. In fact, as we sat down at the tiny table and squeezed our adult sized bottoms into the six year old bottom sized chairs across from the teacher and began the meeting, I could honestly see the tension fade slightly from the rather tired and stressed teacher's face as if she's had a string of days of not so perfect and joyous parent teacher conferences up until now. She looked up, glowing, as if she doesn't get to say this very often:
"Oh Kyra is doing FINE. JUST FINE."
A bit of me wouldn't know what do do if she had said anything different. It's not in my plans. I've worked too hard to prep her for this point - what, with all the breastfeeding upon birth and proper nutrition and smiles and tickles and hugs and reading of night time stories regularly and telling her I love her daily and quizzing of spelling words and nightly homework and these six and a half years of trying and trying and trying rawwwther hard to be a mostly good mother.
You're working out for us, just fine, Kyra. Even if after inspecting you one hour after birth, your grandfather did think your forehead appeared too large. I think your forehead is just right!!!
That's my girl.
