A Hannah Montana Kind of Day

So Reagan came home from school yesterday and told me that Oliver from "Hannah Montana" had been at her school. Of course, not believing her, I said, "Oh, you mean he was on TV or something? You watched something with him in it?" But she said, "No. For real! It was him! He was there!" Well, she did have some flyers with his picture on it (he's the spokesperson for the "Clean Hands are Cool Hands" initiative), so I thought it was possible...but I still kinda doubted it.

So, today I was at the school for a room parent meeting, and all the moms were talking about it. Sure enough, he had been there. In fact, it even made it on the news last night (but, of course, I missed it).

Then, on top of seeing an actual star in person, Reagan got a call from THE Hannah Montana last night to remind her that she had dance class! (This was a special "back to school" promotion by Wal-mart, where you could sign up for a phone call online.) We have saved the message and played and played and played it! Reagan was so excited. It says, "Hey, sweet niblets! This is Hannah Montana calling to remind you that you have dance. What would you do if you didn't have me to remind you? Have a great time..." etc. You get the point. Reagan thinks it's really funny that she calls her "sweet niblets."

All in all, it was a very Hannah Montana-filled day of fun!

The Funny Things She Says...

Presley is changing every day--learning new words and putting complete sentences together. Just yesterday, she was standing behind Reagan as big sis played a computer game. Apparently, the seating arrangement was not to her liking, because Presley said, "I can't see bery (very) well. Moob (move) a li'l bit."

Other favorite sayings:

• "Dat cool, Mama?" ("Is that cool, Mama?" This usually comes after some gymnastic stunt.)
• "I got it!"
• "I go wishoo." ("I'll go with you.")
• "I know." (This actually means "I don't know." Very confusing, but we figured it out.)
• "Help me, Mama!"
• "I go kin'garen wif Reagan." (Do I need to explain this? She wants to go everywhere Reagan does--including kindergarten.)
• "Dayee may me mad." ("Daddy made me mad." So she came running to Mama.)

Why I Wish Ronnie Were Still President

"America was founded by people who believed that God was their rock of safety. I recognize we must be cautious in claiming that God is on our side, but I think it's all right to keep asking if we're on His side." --Ronald Reagan

Kindergarten...the First Week

We're coming to the close of the first week of kindergarten for Reagan, so I thought it would be appropriate to share a few thoughts. First, I must say that I was apprehensive about Reagan's teacher who was (and still basically is) a stranger to me. My first impression of her was not great. She was quiet...seemed a bit frazzled at the parent meeting and, quite honestly, I thought she might be a control freak too. But the more interaction I have with her, the more I believe that I was wrong. I think Reagan will have a great year, and both Mrs. Willhite and her intern, Mrs. Mills (who is very energetic and fun!) will have positive influences on Reagan.

On Reagan's first day, Scott and I (and Presley) walked Reagan to her class, got her settled (I cried), and then stayed for a reception with the principal. Pickup was at 10:30, so we arrived back at school at 10:15. By then the car rider lane was backed up and Reagan couldn't find our car, so she cried. :( (Keep in mind that the kids are always under adult supervision--the teachers walk with them until they find their car. Nonethelesss, I now get there 30 minutes before the end of school). Tuesday was better--another half day for kindergarten. I walked her in again, and I arrived at pickup in time to be on the front side of the school (Presley watched a movie and ate lunch while we waited). Wednesday was again chaotic. I walked her to her class that morning, but pickup was complicated by a full day of class for the whole school which meant an especially crowded car rider lane. (Again, Presley watched a movie and snacked; I crocheted.)

Then there was Thursday. Reagan insisted that she wanted to be dropped off at the door--no more walking in with Mama. What? Already? Are you sure? Yes! So, against my will, I arrived just before 7:45 (when the doors open), pulled up as close to the entrance as permitted, and let Reagan hop out of the car alone--alone!!! But, fortunately, there are lots of staff members on hand to open doors, hold hands, and usher kids safely into the building. I tried to watch as I was pulling out of the drive, but I wasn't able to see if she walked into the building...I just had to trust that she did. (Then I cried on the ride home.)

A friend of mine who also has a kindergartener explained it best: Up until now, there has always been a hand-off. You go to church, hand your child over to a loving nursery worker, and get your card that identifies you as her parent. Or, you go to preschool, sign your kid in for the day, then hand her over to the teacher who will nurture and watch over her. In big kid school, you just let them out at the door and hope they all get to where they're supposed to. (And sometimes they don't!!! Just ask my mom about her school losing a kindergartener for a while this week! Don't worry, the story ends well.) So, forgive me if I feel a bit apprehensive about letting her take on these big kid duties. We've both been through a lot of growing up this week!

Today is Friday, and once again I let Reagan out at the door and watched her walk toward the entrance. The good news is that in just a few minutes I'll be going back to the school to help out in the lunchroom--so I can see with my own eyes that she did, in fact, arrive safely. Then I'll do my 30 minutes in the car rider lane this afternoon. I didn't realize that kindergarten was going to take over my life...but it kinda has. I thought I would actually have more time and freedom to accomplish things, but the opposite has really happened. Not only am I a prisoner of the car rider lane, but Presley now requires so much of my attention because she misses Reagan! But it will get better on all accounts, I'm sure. And whether or not we're ready for it, this is what growing up is...for both of us. All of us.

Reagan's First Day of Kindergarten

Bright and early this morning (7:15 a.m.) we all (Daddy, Mama, Reagan, Presley) piled in the car and took Reagan to her first day of kindergarten. The area surrounding the school was so crowded that we had to park on a neighborhood street across the road! Hundreds of students and their parents were milling about, checking out classrooms, catching up with old friends, and filling out more paperwork. (I seriously think I've filled out about a ream of paper's worth just for Reagan.)

When we got to her room, Mrs. Willhite was there with her camera to take a photo of the whole family. (We took a few pictures too.) We dropped off Reagan's classroom supplies in the bins, and then Reagan found her cubby and put away her backpack. Each child had a container of Play-doh at their desk, so their morning got off to a fun start. We stayed for a couple of minutes and then said our good-byes. Reagan smiled and said, "Bye! I'm going to have a great day!"

The rest of us went to the Media Center for a reception with the principal, then we had to see the school nurse about Reagan's Epi-pen. Finally, after 8:30, we were on our way home.

It seemed like the day went very well for Reagan. She told us about reading time and named a few of her new friends. But the day came to a sad end. As we were waiting in the endless car rider line, I could barely see the kindergarteners being marched outside by the teachers. We were so far away that Reagan couldn't see us. (We arrived 15 minutes early, and we barely made it into the parking lot. Within about a minute of our arrival, traffic was in the street and through the intersection!) I had warned Reagan that she might have to wait, that there might be other cars in front of me, but apparently that information didn't sink in. By the time she was led to our car, she was in tears.

Even though pick-up didn't go so well (and, really, it was just a crazy mess out there), I do feel a bit better about sending her to kindergarten, now that she has her first half day under her belt. I know she's going to have a great year--after all, she's smart and funny and totally loveable!

Love Is...

Remembe those "Love Is" cartoons from the 70s? You know, they had that naked man and woman (only, for some reason, nobody seemed to care that they were naked) who always looked starry-eyed and shared sentiments like, "Love is... teaching the baby to say 'Daddy' first" or "Love is... giving him the last cookie."

I vaguely remember buying a book of those cartoons when I was a kid (at a book fair, I think, because I doubt if my parents would have approved the purchase if they had been with me). I recently found the book (got a new bookshelf--you find a lot of things when you re-arrange your books), and Reagan has been asking me to read it to her. This got me thinking about my own "Love Is" list for my kids. It goes something like this:

Love Is...

...letting your daughter pour you another cup of invisible tea, even though you've had approximately 658 cups already.

...trading her your seven-layer burrito for her plain taco--even though that's what she ordered--because she likes yours better.

...taking the morning off work so that you can both take her to her first day of kindergarten. (That one is Daddy, actually.)

...letting her help you cook, even though it takes twice as long and requires more clean-up.

...reading Little Mommy one more time before bed.

...loading the "Story Time with Belle" CD-rom on your computer, even though the last kid game you loaded caused your computer to crash six times.

The list could go on and on. The things we do to show love to our kids is endless. Sometimes it's also at the other end of the spectrum: sending her to time out so that she learns to be respectful...making her drink her milk so she'll have strong bones...even sending a little defenseless five-year-old into a big, scary school so that she can become more independent and gain knowledge. (That one is happening within the week, by the way.)

Sometimes I ask Reagan if she knows how much I love her. Surprisingly, sometimes she says "no." (I'm afraid she's a bit of an emotional manipulator--she knows that kind of stuff will get a reaction from me.) But I know that when she grows up, she may look back and see things she wishes I would have done differently (who can do it perfectly?), but she will know, without any doubt, that she was and is loved by her family.

Can I Have Five Minutes to Myself, Please?

So, I had just settled in for my five-minute shower (yes, five minutes--if I'm lucky) when the door flew open with reckless abandon as Presley stood--with absolutely no concern for my privacy, I might add--holding a pencil. Here's how it went:

Me: Presley, close the door.

(no response)

Me: Presley, why are you holding a pencil?

(no response)

Me: Presley, put the pencil on the sink and close the door.

Eventually, after much more discussion along the same lines, Presley leaves with the pencil in hand. Within a minute, Reagan bursts through the door.

Reagan: (in her sing-song, tattle-tale voice) Presley just wrote on the wall!

Seriously, can I just get five minutes to wash myself? My personal hygiene is at stake here. To make an already long story a bit shorter, I'll just say that Presley got to scrub the wall in the bonus room (glad we chose the semi-gloss paint that washes well!), and it was actually a pretty normal morning. In fact, if I get to take my shower alone, I consider that an unusual morning.

Oh, the joys of parenting.