Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Today was all about Raspberries. Raspberry Lane, Liam's preschool, is closing for the summer tomorrow. That's not the end of the world because I've got a whole bunch of different things lined up, but it does yank on my heart strings because he is so attached to the place. Hmm, maybe it is actually that I am so attached to the place. He comes home enriched, enlightened and exhausted - three very good things which I have had a hard time replicating on my own lately.
Honestly, I am sorry to every older child in the world at this point. You had it so good for a few years, and then us young ones came along. Not that Thea has it so great or anything, but she doesn't know any better. You do. And then it gets taken away - like being served a big slice of chocolate cake and then being forced to split it in two and give half away to a wailing, silly pile of pink.
Raspberry Lane has been amazing for Liam. He comes home singing little songs to himself - a lot. His imagination is blooming with peony-like beauty. He even has picked up a social skill or two along the way, making friends with both boys and girls - though not all of them. He comes home with stories about how he and Miss Red had to have a "conversation" about this or that - some power struggle in the play room, or a rude response that needed correction. These are big deals to him - he takes them very seriously. But he adores his teachers - really, truly. You can see it in his face every morning when he arrives there.
He'll be back at Raspberry Lane in the fall for one more year. When I look at a picture of him at the beginning of school, it blows me away how much he has changed in six months. It just never stops.
I said today was all about Raspberries. Well, Miss Thea learned to blow raspberries today - you know the truck-like bubbly sounds babies all seem to make. She was so pleased with herself, you would think she learned a new language. I guess in a way she did. I laughed so hard when she did it. It's so deliberate. She's working so hard at it. It's a true feat.
She is also squiggling around like crazy these days. Put her on the floor and you never know where she will end up - although she complains about it so bitterly it's hard to lose track of her too much. Consequently, we had to have a conversation, Liam and I, about toilet paper tubes, and things that fit through them being choking hazards, and how if things that size, like Legos, were left in the livingroom, they would be summarily thrown in the garbage.
Again, all you first-born children, I apologize. There is no justice.