Preschool Graduation - But Not Quite

I have a case of “the guilty parent” syndrome.

You see, tonight is Sophia’s preschool graduation - time for all the kids going into kindergarten this fall to celebrate their new “big kid” status. We’ve been talking with Sophia all year about how next year she’ll be at the same school as her big sister, and she’s been so excited.

Well, the bad news is that just this week I found out she in fact won’t be attending kindergarten this fall. We’re moving to Nevada before the start of the school year, and their entrance requirements are different from California’s. Here, a child has to be 5 years before December 2 in order to enroll. In Nevada, it’s September 30th. Sophia’s birthday is in November. I was devastated when I found out.

I racked my brain trying to find a way around this. I even considered keeping her in California for a year while daddy worked in Nevada, because the schools will make an exception to their age requirements if the child attended a lower grade in another state. What was I thinking? My mom said it best - the disappointment Sophia will feel for not getting to start kindergarten would not even compare to the disappointment she would feel being away from daddy for a full year.

We considered starting her in kindergarten here, then moving, but I’m pretty sure that won’t count and the Nevada school system won’t care. I have just learned to accept it and look at the bright side - she’ll have another year to learn the skills she’ll need to succeed in school and she won’t have to worry about being the youngest kid in her class.

So, while tonight will be a bit of a celebration for her, we’ll be doing this again next year. I feel a bit guilty, but I’m sure Sophia won’t mind two parties with cake and ice cream!

They’re More Resilient Than You Think

Today I had a bit of a freak out, for not good reason really. I was doing some research for our upcoming move to another state when I found out that my little one will not qualify for kindergarten in Nevada. In California, kids have to be 5 years old on or before December 2nd. In Nevada, it’s September 30th. Sophia’s birthday is near the first of November.

While normally things like this wouldn’t be such a big deal, it is in this house. You see, Sophia “graduates” with her preschool class this week, and for months she’s been asking when she gets to go to kindergarten. We’ve been talking about it all year, and each day we take Andie to school, Sophia brings it up again. She’s so excited to go to school with her sister. Now I have to break her little heart and tell her she’s going to have to wait another year.

I suppose she’ll understand. Probably as much as Andie when I told her these last two weeks at school would be her last two weeks at that school, with those friends, because most likely by the time the next school year rolls around we’ll already be in Nevada. I know she’ll live though. I did it myself when I was a kid.

When I was almost 8, my mom moved my brother and me - not to another state but it may as well have been one. I remember leaving my childhood friends and most of my extended family to come up to Northern California from the south in order to move in with a wonderful man that my mom ended up marrying a year later. I remember hating my mom for taking us away. I remember hating the new town. I remember hating all the hills and the trees and the windy roads.

And you know, that place called Paradise ended up being my new home…and no matter where I go in life now, it remains my hometown. I learned to love it. I learned to love the fact I could see the stars at night instead of the smog. I learned to love all the green that surrounded us, instead of the gray asphalt of the tract homes and freeways. I learned to make new friends, many of which I still keep in touch with today. And you know, that closest childhood friend that I left behind 24 years ago in Southern California…we eventually found each other and still keep in touch, too!

So, though my initial reaction was to freak out over hurting my kids and destroying their lives (I know that’s not really what I’m doing) I’ve learned to see the positive in all this. I know my kids will understand and I know that they will eventually thank me for making a move that will quite possibly change our lives. I know they will make new friends and will learn to love our new surroundings, just as I will. Together we’ll all be making this change, and together we’ll adapt and we’ll grow to love our new home.

This post is dedicated to my mom, who through email gave me the slap in the face I needed to put this all into perspective. Thanks mom for all you’ve done for us! I don’t regret it, either.

Kids Teach Us So Much

I was naughty thirsty this morning and went to Starbucks for a refreshing iced tea lemonade, and gave into the little Bibble when she asked for a blueberry “nuffin.” So we plop down at the table and chairs while they’re making my drink, and I sit in a semi-daze while Sophia pulls her muffin out of the bag.

(If you’ve ever had a Starbucks muffin, you know how huge the muffin-top is, and you also know that their tops have this yummy crumb coating that tastes delicious but probably isn’t so healthy for you.)

Sophia looks up and stares at me cheerfully while getting ready to eat her yummy delicious muffin, and I’m smiling because she’s so happy it looks like she’s singing a song in her head. While she’s still bopping her head around with that big Bibble smile of hers she proceeds to take the paper muffin-wrapper off and starts gleefully eating the muffin - the bottom part of the muffin.

At this point I’m wondering what planet she’s from what kind of person doesn’t eat the muffin-top first. Here’s this 4-year-old with the mentality of fun now, work later, and she’s eating the most boring part of the muffin and working her way up to the grand prize. I half expect her to realize what she’s done, stop, and go for the crumb-coated blueberry mound on top, but she doesn’t. She continues to smile a song as she devours the entire muffin bottom, after which she puts the top in the bag and proclaims “I’m gonna save it for later, maw-maw.”

What the? What did I just witness? I just realized she was giving me the kick in my pants that I’ve been needing. Starting a new project (career for that matter) is tough when you don’t know where to start. I’ve been a little paralyzed over the past couple weeks, only because it seems so overwhelming that I’m stalling. Here’s what Bibble taught reminded me…

Sometimes it’s better to save the best for last. Otherwise, what motivation is there to work your way through the crap? You gotta have gold waiting for you at the end of whatever trip you’re taking. For me, this means postponing Twitter and MySpace and Sykpe’s Sudoku by paint until my projects for the day are done…no matter how bad I wanna tweet. Get the worst over first. When I’m procrastinating, I tend to fiddle around with the least intensive project waiting for me. It should be the other way around. Get the hard stuff out of the way and you can actually relax and enjoy doing the enjoyable things what’s left.

Thanks, Bibble. Now back to work!

What a Week!

The last five days have been a trip - to what feels like hell and back. A few days ago, while this blog post was forming in my head, I had visions of ripping apart the inner workings of El Dorado County and the Administrators/Board Members who can manage to run Human Services without actually caring about humans. However, a couple days later, I’m no longer in the mood to get into what was so wrong about the circumstances surrounding the receipt of my layoff notice last Friday. There are several reasons for this - let’s see how many cliches we can get away with here:

Everything Happens for a Reason

I’ve always believed this, even when it’s something really, really horrible that has happened. In my experience, every time an event that initially made life unbearable occurs, it ends up being a marker in my past of where good things began to happen. On my way out of the office on Friday afternoon, hands full momento-stuffed shopping bags, I glanced at my desk for one last look-over. A fortune I received just two weeks prior (after finishing my greasy chow mein meal) and had taped to the top center of my computer monitor, caught my eye. It was that moment, though filled with grief and shock, that I knew it was all for good reason.

The fortune? “The world will soon be ready to receive your talents.”

Time Heals All Wounds

I admit, I was a wreck. I refused to pick up Brownie from school, went straight home and proceeded to have a nervous breakdown. No, not really, but I did do nothing but cry and eat, and eat some more, all weekend. I moped. Poor Daddo didn’t know how to take it, though he was very supportive and listened patiently to days of my ‘thinking out loud’ behavior. Monday morning, dry from all the tears, I mostly sat and thought about how lonely I was. After all, it had been four long years of being a stay at home mom before I started this job, and after 9 months of working, my social outlet had once again disappeared. I was once again feeling so alone.

Today, however, just three days later, I’m feeling great. Why? I’ve reconnected with old friends online and in person, I’ve had time to realize my world isn’t ending, and I’ve come to realize that it really could be worse. It just took me some time to get past the initial shock, that’s all.

The Grass is/isn’t Always Greener on the Other Side

Could it be worse? Definitely. Could it be better? Sure.

Yesterday two totally different stories touched me, and I knew I’d be okay.

First, a story in the local paper, of a 2-year-old child who slipped outside while his parents and other family members enjoyed each others’ company. The child’s family was on vacation, traveling from Hawaii to visit family members here in California. The housefull found the screen door to the backyard open, and the child face down in a two-foot deep koi pond. He was never revived despite quick action from medical personnel. All I could think about was the child’s parents flight back home to Hawaii, with a tiny casket in the belly of the plane.

The other story so different - happy. A friend of mine, who only a year ago was writing at home for sometimes less than a penny per word (slave wages in the writing world). During the leave of absence from my ‘Work/Write At Home Mom’ or WAHM life, she applied herself and demanded pay for what she was worth, and is happily making about 80% of the take home pay from my stint at the County. Most often, writer’s pay is tax-free as well.

Point is, I have a greener grassy field ahead of me, and in this case, a high-paying government job with a set salary and great benefits was not a greener choice than working on my own, building up a client portfolio and doing what I love.

I’m Building a Better Mouse Trap

An amazing thing happened when I reconnected with the online world of what I like to call my ‘writer-friends’. I realized how much I had been missed! Not only that, but within hours I had offers to help with various writing projects that will help me reestablish my name in the writing world. I’ve learned I can get back to making money doing what I love, and best of all I already have the base of supporters and contacts that I need to be successful.

While I wouldn’t recommend everyone hope they get canned so they can return to their lifelong dream of doing whatever, in my case this layoff has been a blessing. For many reasons, mostly financial, I was scared of what I was faced with when I walked out of that office on Friday.

However, after taking time to open my eyes and look around me, I saw that the universe had set in motion a turn of events that would take me back to my passion, and supply me with the tools I needed (financially as well!), to make it happen.

What a life-changing turns of events. All in the period of a week.

Next time I’ll keep my mouth shut…

Yesterday I bought tickets for the four of us to go see the Disney on Ice special, Princess Wishes, featuring all the Disney Princesses, plus Tinkerbell. Seeing as Sophia has been dressing up as a different princess each day, courtesy of the clothes and shoes she received for Christmas, and the fact she’s been watching a Disney Princess Christmas movie for three days straight…I figured she’d be SO excited to hear the good news. Well, she is. And now, all she does is carry around the newspaper clipping featuring a picture of the princesses with the ticket prices and dates available. I’m also having to hear at least once each hour, “When are we going to see the Princesses?”. This is gonna be one long week (we see them on ice next weekend).