My oldest daughter started kindergarten last week. It was quite an emotional experience for me. I remember discovering that I was pregnant with her: I had always wanted to be a mom! I remember being pregnant with her and talking to her. I remember Jason and I following her growth with this development book we had. I remember celebrating when she was as big as my thumbnail and when she started to look like a baby. I remember the day we found out that she was a girl and we went out to dinner and then we went to Toys R Us and registered for all kinds of things. I remember planning her nursery and shopping all over the place for the right fabric for her curtains. I remember waiting, waiting, my arms wanting to hold her and rock her and feel her and see her. I remember all of those doctor visits, I remember not being able to get up in the morning. I remember getting up in the middle of the night and eating cereal. I remember the night before she was born, I had to be induced, so we knew what was coming. Jason and I lay in bed, holding eachother (as much as he could hold me since I was HUGE at that point) and talking about what it would be like to be parents, how excited we were, how much we already loved her, all of our dreams for her. I remember Dr. Ahmed ordering my c-section and listening to her call for assistance as the anesthesiologist prepped me in the operating room. And I remember watching my parents in the window, watching the operation, so excited. And I remember when she was born and Jason watching the whole thing over the curtain. I remember being in recovery and having them not let me see her. And I remember Jason coming and sitting with me and I yelled at him to go be with A! And then my mom came in to the recovery room and told me how perfect she was, how her ears were tight against her head. I remember being wheeled in to my room and waiting, waiting, and finally they wheeled her in and I got to hold her (Jason and my mom had already held her in the nursery). What an emotional, wonderful experience that was!
And now, here she is, starting kindergarten. She's a big girl. She likes clothes and fashion and shoes. She loves Hillary Duff and Lizzie McGuire. She likes to dance and play soccer. She loves my mother's meatballs and spaghetti. She is an early riser, but she hates to go to bed. She can whine and argue about anything. She is beautiful, my daughter.
And she started kindergarten. I want the absolute best for my girls. I try to give them my all. I want to be involved in their lives and be there for them and know what is going on. I am classmom for her kindergarten class and I am her Sunday school teacher. I take her to dance class and Daisy scouts and soccer. I sit with her and make her do her homework. I try to raise her to be thoughtful and responsible and polite. I tell her that she can be anything and do anything. I love her and I cuddle her and I hug her and I kiss her. I talk with her and I listen to her. I make her clean her room and the playroom and she does both very well.
This past week, I have not known if I was coming or going. Monday night was a PTO meeting and Jason had his first Isshinryu class. Tuesday, A had jazz. Wednesday, P had dance, the dogs went to the groomer, then the vet because one of them had an infection, I signed A up for soccer and I went to get her cleats, I dropped them off at my girlfriend's house and went to Back to School night. Jason went to Isshinryu. On Thursday night, I relaxed and Jason had a Shade Tree Commission meeting. Tonight we went to an ice cream social at school. Tomorrow A has her first soccer game, then I have to go grocery shopping and then pick up my grandmother, so she can have dinner with us. Sunday I teach Sunday school. And Monday, one of A's new friends from school is coming over with her mom and little brother.
I want to do all that I can to make these happy years for my girls. I want them to look back fondly on this important time in their lives.
