Hi! My name is Katie and I am from Virginia. I was an almost success story until the day I found out I was "with child." Since then, I have become a single parent to an amazing and beautiful daughter- so this is my life, 2.0. Thanks for reading, I hope you start and end your day with a smile!
Yesterday, Spencer found the mother of all caterpillars. I have never seen one that gigantic before- it was like The Very Hungry Caterpillar on steroids multiplied by 100. We were outside and she was playing in the backyard when she squealed with delight that she'd found a caterpillar. Before I could process that information, she picked it up and brought it over to me. I was still baffled that she saw a caterpillar in the grass, recognized it for what it was, and quite clearly told me what she had found. Her entire knowledge of them is solely from the aforementioned book, which doesn't exactly look like real live ones.
And then I see that she's holding this enormous looking thing that just couldn't be an actual caterpillar. My inner insectaphobia, aka, entomophobia, was screaming for me to tell her to put it down, not to touch it, and never it up again. This is seriously what it looked like, only bigger!
But she is such a little sponge and I don't want her to be afraid of of bugs, insects, spiders, and other things that creep. I remembered reading this post on Dooce and I didn't want Spencer to soak in any of my irrational fears, etc. So I kept my mouth shut.
Well, that lasted about 2.2 seconds because she tried to hand it to me and the voice in my head escaped through my mouth and said DO NOT PUT THAT ON ME! I then calmly told her we needed to put it back in the grass so that we didn't hurt it. (Good one, right?!) And I tried to explain that you have to be very gentle with caterpillars because they are fragile and even if you don't mean to hurt them, it can still happen. Shockingly, she put it back in the grass! I bent down and got a closer look it. I really thought that it might have been a toy shaped like a caterpillar, because it was that big. It wasn't until I watched it start to move it's antennae and scoot away that I was finally convinced of it's authenticity.
Spencer has always been a little mimic of me, but recently it's taken on a new life of it's own. I have to watch every teeny tiny thing that I do and say because chances are that she will do and say the same thing. And I want her to be her own person. My parents never even told me who they were voting for until I was in high school because they wanted me to form my own opinions and not be swayed theirs. I found that infuriating, but now I'm starting to get it. It's hard to be a good influence without stifling them. Here is my question: where do you draw the line between being a positive role model and being domineering?
Spencer is now taking ballet, which she calls bullaise, and tap dancing lessons and she LOVES it. I have to hide her tap shoes when we get home because she wants to tap dance around the house all the time. The class is only once a week, but I wish they had it more often, because Spencer wants to go there every single day. Last night she obliged me for a few minutes and let me take a few pictures of her in her leotard.
And then she got annoyed with me.
Story. Of. My. Life.
I guess that's what life with a strong willed three year old is like, ha!
"If a tree falls in a forest and there's no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?" I think that best describes how I feel about blogging and my real life; if I blog something, it becomes reality, but if I don't, then I can delude myself into a lovely state of denial. So here it is: my Spencer started preschool.
I've tried to start this post a hundred times and then I'd get all weepy and quickly abandon it. Writing it all down meant that I was officially the mother of a three year old in preschool and I wasn't quite prepared for such a thing. But now that we are two weeks into it, I'm now ready to say, "Hi, my name is Katie and I'm the mother of a three year in preschool."
I really wasn't expecting to feel so emotional about this, but as the first day of school approached, I felt increasingly more sad. I mean, two days a week for three hours a day isn't exactly a lengthy separation, so why was I freaking out? There were never any doubt in my mind that Spencer would go to preschool this year- in fact, I'd started researching programs well over a year ago. I couldn't be happier with the school she's going to; I love their approach to learning, the staff, that it's strictly a preschool and not part of daycare system, and the actual building itself. But I still felt/feel kinda heartsick.
I never really understood homeschooling your children. Getting out and going to school provides them a well balanced and rounded education and it gives moms a few hours to themselves to get some things done, maybe take a well deserved nap. It probably didn't hurt that I loved going to school and would try and fake not having a temperature if I was sick so I wouldn't miss a day. (Crazy kid!) So, naturally, I thought I would love Spencer going to school just as much as I loved going; wrong. I firmly believe one of the best gifts a parent can give to their child is a love of learning and a great education. But in the back of mind, I'm starting to understand why some families decide to literally take on that challenge themselves. For me, I'm jealous; I'm jealous, green with envy, of Spencer's teacher. I want to watch her learn things and I want to see that look of excitement she gets on her face when she's learned something new.I feel like I'm missing out on something.
Even so, I'm very aware my own limitations and I know going to this preschool is what's best for Spencer. And she loves it! Every morning when she wakes up, she asks me "is this my school day?" And when I say yes, she always tells me "that's my favorite day!" To which I jokingly respond, "what am I, chopped liver?" And with her most serious voice and you're-crazy-mom look, she tells me "No silly goose, you're Mommy." It's our little morning routine.
Spencer has adjusted marvelously. Actually, there was no adjustment for her, I walked her in on the first day and she went right into her room, sat down, and waved goodbye; no tears, no nothing. It was as if she'd been doing this her whole life. I, on the other hand, had to fight back my tears until I made it to the car. And then I went Sara's house so she could comfort me, haha!
Without further ado, here are some of the pictures I took of Spencer on the first day of school.