This morning my kindergartener had a small ceremony at school. It’s something every grade at the school does four times a year, once every quarter. It lasts less than an hour and the kindergarteners that have met certain requirements for the quarter get recognized for their efforts. It’s a very informal affair. The kids come out into the main lobby, sit on the ground and teachers call out the children’s names by class. The kids stand up, turn around and face the parents, the parents clap, the kids sit back down and that’s it. Afterwards, the parents that are there got to pull their kid to the side, give them a kiss, hug, a high-five and maybe a picture or two.
It’s the day after Thanksgiving.
It’s Rhea’s birthday. Daddy went to work. Raven is still asleep. Company is sleeping on our sofa. Rhea and I are laying on my bed watching snow white. She’s doing her normal soothing. She’s suckin her thumb. And holding her blanket. She’s rarely ever without her blanket and the thumb is in her mouth about 75% of the time. I look over at her and say… “Today you are FOUR! You are a big girl! You should stop sucking your thumb! And get rid of that blanket. Don’t you think?”
She keeps looking at the TV. She tightens the grip on her blanket. She keeps sucking her thumb. She ignores me.
“Rhea? Aren’t you a big girl now?”
She takes the blanket and covers her whole entire lower face… Hiding the thumb in her mouth. She always starts fidgeting and acting nervous and shy when anyone brings up concerns about her thumb or her blanket. She always tries to change the subject or redirect your attention to something else. As if she knows she should stop… But just doesn’t want to deal with the reality of it at that particular moment.
“Rhea! You should stop sucking your thumb! You are a big girl now!”
I take her hand away from her face and the thumb pops out. She immediately puts it back in. She keeps her eyes on the TV.
“Rhea, when are you going to stop sucking your thumb?”
She keeps looking at the TV.
“Hello?! I’m talking to you!”
She turns her head towards me… Thumb still in mouth. She slowly takes her thumb out… A saliva string is attached to her thumb…
She looks at me for a moment and dryly says, “When I’m seven.”
She looks back at the TV and puts the thumb back in her mouth. Salvia string in tact.
This is Raven’s first week of kindergarten. How awesome is that?! I remember kindergarten like it was yesterday and now my lil mama is taking the school bus like a big girl and learning all the basics…
This week is such a bitter-sweet one. Although I’m super excited about her learning and being social at school……and eventually one day leaving the house all together, so that me and this man can finally walk around butt naked, I’m also a little depressed about her growing up. When you get caught up in the everyday grind and routine of school and work, that’s when life passes you by the fastest. The first few years of Raven’s life were spent at home with me. Life was slow, but we had time to actually enjoy every single moment. But now, when you have to go to school and work and participate in extracurricular activities……. and everything else that comes along in between, everything kinda gets jumbled up together. The hours and days move faster than you can keep up.
That’s what I DON’T like about her starting school. Because I know that life is about to go really fast now… And before I know it, she will be running to me crying about the blood spot she found on her underpants… and then she will be crying about the idiot at school who tried her for “the other prettiest girl in school”…. and then she will be crying about us pulling off and leaving her at her dorm when she starts college… and then she’ll be crying while dancing with her daddy on her wedding day… A lot of good memories to come, but a lot of tears that will come along with it…
I guess all I can do now is either enjoy both my girls while they are happily growing into amazing young ladies OR… I can find a voodoo priest and keep them young forever… Send me a private message if ya know a guy. email@example.com