To Ainslie on (or a few days prior to) Her Third Birthday

Dear Ainslie,

Do you know that I don't think I've ever given you a birthday card? I'm sorry, but I hope that someday maybe you'll read some of these entries and they will take the place of cards.

To put it simply, and to use one of your, Bob, and Larry's favorite words, You Are Amazing.

I never dreamed I would be blessed with such a wonderful child. Sometimes I catch myself being smug at your wonderfulness. You really are so smart, funny, cute and well, ornery. Even though it frustrates me sometimes and makes me question whether I am fit to parent, I would rather you be your negotiating, independent, and yes, sometimes infuriating self than not express yourself and not try as hard as you can to get what you want. Someday, when you have gained some maturity, those traits will serve you well.

I can't believe the things that come out of your mouth. You use reason and logic in ways that astound me. You question processes beyond the usual "why" (although there is plenty of "why" in our house too.) Your perception of my opinions and feelings is a little disconcerting. I thought I had to be careful with what I say, now I have to be careful with tone. You understand sarcasm. You think "duh" is an hilarious word.

You break my heart with your sweetness. You tell me that you know Aunt Carrie lives with Jesus, so she must also live in my heart, since Jesus does too. You tell me you want to be a Mommy and a Teacher ("just like You!") when you grow up. Of course, you also say you want to be a princess.

You have a flair for the dramatic. You rarely just say you want something, it's usually, "It would be so (wonderful/amazing) to have a necklace like that, don't you think so?" You sleep in a tiara and plastic high heels. You refer to the Overskirt and Underskirt on your princess gowns, and you did NOT hear those terms from me. You make up epic songs based on stories or the events of the day. You make up words and then tell me you are speaking French or Spanish. "Cisco is French for Chicago, did you know that?" The fireplace hearth is your stage.

You're learning to spell and write. You're starting preschool in the fall and you are very excited. You insist on picking out your own clothes, sometimes several times a day.

You have no artifice. You have a confidence I never had and I hope you never lose. You love your friends, to the point of needing to "worry more about Ainslie." You are brave and outgoing. You talk to everyone.

Oh, kiddo. I pray that I can keep nurturing you the way you need to be nurtured in order to reach your full potential. I pray that the choices I make for you are in your best interest and not just what I deem Easiest or Most Fun. In my hubris, I'm afraid to turn you over to educators who, although I think they will recognize your gifts, may not realize how special you are. I pray that I can always be your best advocate, without embarrassing you to tears as you get older.

You are the best thing I've ever done; my biggest joy, my grandest blessing, and my greatest treasure.

I love you more than anything in the Whole Wide World,

Mommy

Preschool Screening (it's a One of Those Moms post)

If you don't want to hear about how wonderful and smart my kid is, you should skip this entry. It's gonna get deep.

We did the preschool screening today.

At the beginning, we were told, "We will give you a short report before you leave, but you won't know whether you get in until all children have been screened, in a few weeks.

"Getting in" means you are somehow at risk academically. When asked whether I had any concerns, I said no, but that I just wanted an objective opinion on her development. C'mon. The Truth is, I wanted to hear an actual early childhood specialist say my daughter is brilliant.

As we left, we were told, "There is no way she will be accepted. She did a wonderful job and is considerably ahead of where she should be in all areas."

There. Thank you.

It was fun to watch. As usual, Ainslie told people everything they could ever want to know and then some. She was downright rapturous about the Scissors, since they are forbidden fruit most of the time at home. She kept taking little asides to remind me that it was ok for her to have the scissors because there was a grown-up Right There. She even told them, "You know, I should be taking a nap right now, but today I don't have to because I'm here at your school."

She played catch, she hopped on one foot, she walked on a line ("do you know I can walk on my tippy toes? I do that at gymnastics."), she ran, she climbed stairs.

Funny, in 75 minutes, they didn't see anything. They don't know about her zooming up on her scooter to tell me, "I just came from England and brought you some pasta and bacon!" They don't know that, "Captain Hook *officially* lives in Disney World." They thought it was odd that she kept wandering to the bookshelf. One of them noted that someone her age, "shouldn't be so interested in books yet." ???????? Weird. Anyway, it was a good day.


Very, very thankful and proud mommy here.

Hmmmm

"Ainslie, are you getting into something?"

(from another room) "I might be..."

I think we're ok

Me: Ainslie, later this week, on Friday, we are going to the big kids' school. You get to play for awhile--I'll be there too--and a teacher is going to play with you and maybe ask you some questions, ok?

Ainslie: Ok. What are we going to play?

Me: Well, I'm not sure, but probably lots of things. Can you try everything for the teacher, just so she can see whether you can do it? Like, if she asks you to stack some blocks, can you just show her how?

Ainslie: Ok. I'll stack them all the way to the light!

Me: Great! Thank you! If she asks you questions, you can answer her, ok? Like, if she asks your favorite things to play, or eat, or your favorite stories, you can tell her, ok?

Ainslie: Ok. Let's pretend that you are the teacher and we are there right now.

Me: Ok. Hi, I'm Mrs. Wilson. What is your name?

Ainslie: My name is Ainslie. Ainslie Jane Wilson. I live on Eagle Ridge, Chatham Illinois.

Me: Well, it's nice to meet you. Ainslie, what do you like to play?

Ainslie: I just LOVE to stack blocks! It's so amazing!

Yeah. I think we're ok.

Must Be My Lucky Day

At Sam's Club, you have to have your receipt checked as you walk out the door--so it's Ainslie's job to hold onto it as we leave. Some nice clerks turn the receipt over and draw a happy face. Ainslie loves that. The first time it happened, I must've said, "It's your lucky day!" because now, every time it happens, she gushes, "Must be my lucky day!"

Anyway. Today something great happened. Well, nothing actually happened. Well, some things happened that weren't so great--but I digress. I went in to request a sub for a class next week (reference the not-so-great thing, i.e. a husband who can't be relied on to fill in with child care even though he is MORE than happy for the income, but again, I digress.) While I was talking to my boss, she mentioned more classes for next quarter.

That is a great thing. The thing that has me kind of flabbergasted is that I think I am going to refuse one of them. I am already stretched pretty thin right now. I have had too many days lately where Ainslie watches too much TV. One class meets at night, once a week. That one, I definitely want. The other one is twice a week starting at noon. Yuck. That cuts into waterpark time with friends, plus it means I have to either get a babysitter or ask my in-laws (who would probably say yes) to watch Ainslie. I don't want to. I want to have fun with my monkey this summer before she starts preschool and grows up a little too much. For right now, I don't have to take the class.

I never thought, when I started staying at home, I'd have so much work (I mean the kind that pays money--then there's the other!) I feel like this is some sort of milestone. I have enough contract work (that I do mostly when Ainslie is asleep) that I don't have to teach both sections. Lucky me!

No Idea Where She Gets It

"Grammie, I was talking and talking at gymnastics yesterday and do you know what Ms Kathy did tell me? She said I am a...a...a...Motormouse!"

Dedicated to Tammy: Chiropractic Nirvana

Ahhhhhhh.
I've seen a chiropractor 3 times now and ahhhhhh. Slept like a rock last night. The pinched nerve in my neck that has been making my hands go numb for months is slowly getting unpinched. Traction rocks.

Anyway, Tammy, my friend, have YOU called a chiropractor yet? Your post several weeks ago about taking care of yourself has really been inspiring me lately--I'm also getting a haircut in 50 minutes, by the way.

You Lost Me At "Babysitter."

I don't know whether anyone remembers my story about the student (who is in his 30's) who I hadn't met all quarter, who then e-mailed me the next-to-last week of class telling me how important his job is and how although he had never been to my class, he knew everything and would like to take the final and pass the class...? Maybe I posted it on PALP---anyway, he strikes again!

Last night, he actually showed up in a different class on Week 2 of the quarter! After class, he approached me and gave me the "my -job- is- so- important -I- work- at -the -mercy -of- the -legislative- session- because- I- am- a -lobbyist" spiel. My attitude is, if you don't have time to take a class, don't sign up for it.

Anyway, I very sweetly explained to him that I completely understand where he is coming from. I also have other commitments--I do consulting work at all hours of the clock and stay home full time with a child--yet since I committed to teach this class, I get to class.

"Yeah, but...is it really that important that I actually be present in class? I mean, this is my second career and all and I already know the information..."

(Silently) "Oh, really, you little pipsqueak?" (Aloud) "Look, B, everyone in here has other commitments. Yet, we make it to class. You will be graded by the same syllabus requirements as everyone else. If my husband can't get home in time, or I can't get a babysitter, I still have to find a way to get here, because I said I would."

"Oh, wow, if only I could get a babysitter to do MY JOB."


Alrighty then. We're on.

Words of Wisdom

Ainslie: Mom, chicken nuggets are just like candy.
Me: Really? Why do you think so?
Ainslie: Because if you eat too many you get sick and throw up.

The Power of Generosity

The project I am working on right now is based on Keith Ferrazzi's book, Never Eat Alone, and it talks about how relationships are the key to success in life. One of the cornerstones of this philosophy is Be Generous and Give--and Don't Keep Score. Without getting into the boring details (unless you are an ID geek) of the course, let me just say that I have been really focusing lately on how other peoples' generosity toward me has put me where I am--which is usually a pretty good place.

Today, I'd just like to give a few shout-outs of thanks.

To Wade, without your 'in' at the CPD (and you sharing that with me) I may not have gotten that job, which means I may never have been Training Manager anywhere yet. Also, because of your generosity of bringing me into that first project, I am living my dream of working AND being a SAHM. Thank You!

To my parents and in-laws--thank you for taking care of Ainslie as often as you do so I can Have It All, without worrying.

To Holly--Thank you for being so generous to Ainslie and I that first week at ballet--and ever since! Thank you for sharing such a fun group of moms and kiddos with us. You don't know how much that has helped us feel at home!

To Tracy--Thank you for being The One Who Knows Everything About Moving to Chatham. Without your generous sharing of information I would know much less about preschools, swimming lessons, the library, furniture stores, and Knight's!

To Jena and Heather--Thanks for, well, Everything! Mostly for listening. I know best friends are supposed to be generous with support, but you guys are superstars. Oh, and Jena, thanks for making me read Harry Potter. What would I be without Harry in my life?

To Suzi, Candy and Heather--thanks for being generous with friendship and sarcasm. :-)

To PALP and everyone there--Thank You for saving my sanity (for real) over the past 6 years. I'm not sure Ainslie would be here if it weren't for the support and friendship you've shared.

I'm probably missing people. My point is that I really feel so blessed and humbled, and also inspired to be generous myself, with friendship, information, job leads, and even things as simple as smiles.

Mother of the Bride

During a big family love-in/snugglefest last week, Craig says, "Oh, Ainslie, you are going to live with Mommy and Daddy forever, aren't you?"

Ainslie: Yes. No. I'm going to get married.
Me: You are? To whom?
Ainslie: To a boy. When I'm bigger.
Craig: When you're at least 30.
Ainslie: Yeah. And I'm going to wear a long, beautiful Marry dress.
Me: You are?
Ainslie: Yes. Or wait. Mommy, may I just wear my Easter dress?
Me: Sure.