Leaving the Nest

Posted on August 29, 2011 by Natalie

So it started with Kindergarten orientation – no, wait – make that soccer – no, no, no back that train up. Make that day camp. Day Camp is when we started seeing the writing on the wall. The writing that said “Oh Here Go Hell Come”.

The last couple weeks with Little P have broken down like this:

Day Camp:
1st week number of days signed up = 4
1st week number of days actually attended = 2
Through some miracle of I-don’t-know-what, we seemed to figure out just the right combination of clicks, whistles and twirls that got us through the remaining weeks without incident.

Soccer:
Number of practices attended = 2
Number of practices participated in = 0
Number of games = 1
Number of games participated in = 0
Number of times the uniform has been on his person = 0

Current Theory: He may have more of a future as the team photographer.

Kindergarten Orientation:
Number of minutes it took to put on the nametag = 20
Number of pictures the teacher’s aid was allowed to take of him for the bulletin board = 0
Number of pictures I had to take of him for the bulletin board = 1
Number of times he was more than 6 inches from my body = 1

Here is the singular photo I was able to take of him while attending orientation (it was the only time he was far enough away from me that I could actually focus the camera to get a shot):

First Day of Kindergarten:
Number of times we barely averted chaos before leaving the house = 2
Number of hours I anticipated being late to work = 2
Number of times I expected to receive a phone call once at work = 5
BUT…..
Number of minutes it took to put on the nametag = .0025!!!
Number of whines and/or leg clings = 0!!!
Number of photos taken = 11!!!
Number of hugs/kisses/waves goodbye = 1, 1 & 3!!! (respectively)
Number of phone calls to work = 0!!!
Number of tears shed (by either of us) = 0!!! [I felt so much relief and joy that I was, literally, unable to feel sad or sentimental.]

And as for that other girl of ours, well 3rd graders tolerate their mothers for about 5-7 minutes before giving them the side-eye and telling them to move along already. At least that is my first-hand experience.

And so there I was – watching the one who I had to gently scoot from the nest and the other who bolted at a dead run. I can’t help but wonder if this is how it will always be.

(click the photo to see the entire set)

On a Break

Posted on January 24, 2010 by Natalie

Union negotiations dictate that they are required to participate in twice-yearly cute breaks (to break up the monotony of the emotional and physical torture they inflict the other 99% of the year). Unfortunately, it is only January, so I now only have one left for the rest of this year.

Porter takes on pre-school. Porter wins.

Posted on April 1, 2009 by Natalie

Today was Porter’s first official day of preschool. And although you might think I’d go on and on about all the gory details of how it was, and what he did, and who he played with, the much more interesting part of the story is how it affected the three other people in the household. Because for him, today could be singularly summed up by the fact that he FINALLY got full run of that rockin’ playground that heretofore taunted him like an unattainable jewel; the same playground structure that required I pick up Stella first every day because if I dared take him with me to pick her up I spent the better part of 15 minutes chasing and coaxing him down from it’s beautiful towering steel goodness. And now it is his, all his, and all I can say is good luck pre-school staff – now it’s your job to bribe him off the wiggly bridge.

Aside from that, today’s exercise in transition was all business.

The other three members of this family, on the other hand, obsessed at length about how he would do. In case you haven’t figured it out already, Porter’s not exactly known for his emotional stability. I was dreading the thought of leaving a tear-streaked, screaming face staring out at me as I drove away, and Steve had to touch an extra couple of doorknobs before leaving this morning. Stella, on the other hand, slid effortlessly into the protective older sister role, voicing her increasing concern about how the other kids would treat him and where exactly his cubby would be located – across from hers? Hmmm, no, next to – definitely next to. For the last week she has been incessantly coaching him on the dos and don’ts of preschool, and from the moment I dropped them both off, she was micromanaging his every move. By the time I left she had him involved in an elaborate felt-board diorama and was already writing his first developmental performance evaluation.

Of all the photos I took this morning these two are my favorite. The first one because it honestly and truly captures the eccentric nature of my children. Whenever I look at it, it makes me think their names should have been “Baroness Philomena VonWalstonstein” and “Jeb Cooter Walsterelli” The second one captures them in that sweet and special way that reminds me why I would ever have been crazy enough to choose to have two.