Growin' Up

I wish to remain in disbelief that time changes things. Summer turns into spring and before  we know it, it's winter again. As much as I choose to ignore it, I must divulge its  ever apparent presence. My world is changing daily. It sounds silly, but I find myself both laughing and crying as the days with my children pass by. I'm ever grateful for their presence, but I know it wont be long before they're talking about moving out, and getting married... and growing old. Perhaps the topic weighs so heavily on my mind right now due to the recent passing of my grandmother, "Nana."

It's bittersweet.

This past summer I had the exceptional opportunity to take senior pictures for two of my sisters who will be graduating this coming year. It's hard to accept that the sisters I have always cared so deeply for will soon be venturing off into the great unknown to start their own  real  lives. My heart aches to know if they will live close in distance... or keep in contact. I love these girls.

Back to School

  I can't believe summer is over. It went far too fast, leaving me with a list of "things I still planned to do this summer to be the coolest mom in the universe!"  It really flew by and I'm sad to not have my three amigos home all day, everyday for a while.

 Connor began counting down the days he would head back to school well before summer vacation ever began. We took him out of the preschool he was attending the previous year for numerous reasons, and he was clearly showing signs that it had been one of the worst. decisions. EVER. I let my hope to save the money we didn't have, and were forking out for preschool, along with the desire to create new friendships through an at home preschool overshadow what HE needed. I regret that decision and the fact that HE is the one left to suffer for it. 
Back to school night was held August 23 from 4-6pm. We didn't arrive until nearly 5:30, as Jay wanted to attend despite his work schedule. The boys and I checked the list outside the school- took note of his teacher and headed in. The three amigos and I walked to the pre-k wing of the school, which we knew first hand from Brenden's run through Pre-K just the year before. We walked... and walked... and walked... (Very much unlike pioneer children, we didn't sing...but grumbled. "My feet hurt...I'm tired! ...and hungry! Did you pack a snack? Moooooom, I know your carrying Jacob, but can you pick me up toooooo?" 
*Gratitude moment!* (Thanks Heavenly Father, for allowing us to be alive in this modern day in age where we don't have to trek through thousands of miles together. We wouldn't make it.) 
Anyway... Back to School. Supplies strung across one arm- Jacob on the other and big-littles dragging their feet, we finally...make... it. Or so I thought. Apparently, Ms. Elizando's class is on the OTHER side of the school, located nowhere near any of the other pre-k classrooms, playground, bathrooms, or cafeteria. Man how I would have liked to pinch whomever set this April fools joke up. 
Trudge... Trudge... Trudge... The handles of the school supply bags are breaking at the seams. Connor steps on my toe, ripping my big toe nail, in almost all of its entirety off. It hurt. It hurt SO bad. But trudge is what we continued to do.
Alas, we arrived at his classroom. We were instructed to wait outside while Connor stood by the classroom door and took a picture. Snap-snap-snap. We're in! Finally! I put Jacob down and proceed to sign myself and Connor in. Not even two second after walking in the door, in the middle of writing H-a-l-e... a voice snaps "Sign in!" -y--H-i-n-o-j... "And then put all of your school supplies in those bins! When your done, come here. I have homework for you." 
Wait a minute... What! Me? Homework? ...Umm... Ma'am, I have a degree. 
After finally signing in, and helping the boys sort school supplies into their proper bins, I walk over to the table for "homework." I am drilled on how Connor will be getting home. My response of "After the first week he will be riding the bus home" wasn't suffice. "What number?" "Well," I said, "I was under the impression there only was one bus, as he is in morning pre-k." "Oh! Well. I still need a bus number... because if I put him on the wrong bus, its going to be you calling back and yelling and screaming about how he didn't get to where he needed to be." "Ooooo-kay. I will have a bus number for you monday morning." 
At this point, Jay arrives in Connors new classroom, which we aren't "allowed" to explore because "we haven't yet learned the rules." I was in complete shock. How is it a pre-kindergarten teacher can feel it is credible and advisable to shoo a child out of his new classroom, and away from the ability to explore what will soon be his surroundings because he "hasn't learned the rules yet." 
Needless to say, the taste in my mouth didn't come out with dinner that night... and Monday didn't prove to be a whole lot better.

His first day was bittersweet for me. On the one hand, I knew this is what Connor needed. He needed a teacher, and a classroom that would help enable him to be the intelligent, kind, and loving child he is. On the other hand, I was worried this wasn't going to be the classroom that would provide that.
I have since been led to feel as though Connor is in his class for a reason. He is there to learn- and grow- and to gain the best start in his educational journey. As his advocate, I have had him retested for speech. I have yet to receive the results, though I know what they will be. Connors speech articulation trouble will be classified as "appropriate for his age" and he will not have "scored low enough to partake of their services." I also know that their answer wont be good enough for me. Remember that part about being his advocate? Yeah... thats me! 
Week three is now upon us. Connor still struggles to write his name by himself, although he can trace the letters if I use a "dotted" print. He can also count to 30 with fewer skips in numbers. I love him.- and I'm proud of his accomplishments thus far. I see a lot of myself in him. A second child who lives happily in the moment. Unconcerned with whether or not everyone else knows how to write their name in cursive by the age of 4, or what Algebraic equation they're working on. He's just Connor. And I think he's perfect.

Brenden's back to school night was much more of a breeze. This year Brenden was one of the privledged few who were accepted into the dual language program offered through the school district. We were ecstatic for Brenden. He whizzed through Pre-K, and we knew if he was placed in Kinder, he would do the same... with boredom on his shoulder. 
Towards the middle of his Pre-K year he began acting out. Not physically. He became mouthy towards adults. "I don't have to do what you tell me." "You aren't as smart as I am." and mimicking and repeating everything we would ask him to do. It was frustrating, but I knew it was because he was bored. How many times can you teach a child to write their name when they've been doing it since they were two and a half? How many numbers can you count to, when a child can count endlessly...He knew all his letters, sounds, colors, shapes, addition, subtraction, etc, etc, etc... He was a smarty pants, and knew it.  His acceptance into the dual language program meant he would be challenged!
Mr Juarez was amazing. He was a cool, down to earth teacher who wasn't afraid to be a little silly. He gives high fives, and positive encouragement, and understood that although my husband can speak spanish... the rest of us were as single-languaged as they come. He answered all of my questions, and calmed my nerves. He allowed all three of my littles to explore and play in the classroom. I felt so welcomed, and knew Brenden would be in good hands.

Brenden's first day went off without a glitch. Mr. Independent requested I drop him off in front of the cafeteria. "No need to walk me in, Mom. You can just wait in the car with Connor and Jake. I don't want you to worry about carrying them around." Can I shed a tear? I dropped him off as requested, and yelled sweet nothings from the open car window. I knew I had to get Connor to school too (as they attend different schools due to Brenden being in the DL program.) but I needed to check on my little man first. I nervously parked the car and took Jacob and Connor into the cafeteria. There I watched Brenden carrying his breakfast tray back to the table. I helped him carry his milk and find a place to sit. I asked a nearby cafeteria monitor about their morning pickup routine and explained everything to Brenden as cool and casually as possible. He gave me a kiss and said "Thanks Mom. I'm really okay though." And off we went. 
He has come home from school each day eager to teach me what he learned. He sings spanish songs about colors, and I try to translate the little bit of spanish I can recall. He corrects me, and we both laugh together. He's speaking quite a bit, and his teacher said he's right on track. We'll look over his test scores in the next few weeks to see how well he's doing so far. 

And the storm rages on.

Her eyes are sad. Swollen from the tears and heartache.
When will she feel whole again? 
When will the worth and value that she holds shine through the darkness that surrounds her.
She feels alone. So alone.
Her heart is broken into a thousand pieces in the wind and she'll never be able to capture them all.
She'll never be the same.
Yet she goes- and she does, trying not to serve those in need of her. 
Turning the other cheek when others whisper.
Feeling so alone.
She's empty. Alone.
Where are the people who claimed to care? The ones she held close through their darkest hours?
She waits alone.
She's alone.