My girl...

Today was like most mornings, Marin doesn't want to get up, Markey is throwing his juice cup around the house, my hair looks like Rod Stewarts.  We were running late, more the norm around here.  I was trying to get her moving, which was not very successful, then Brudder shows up w "The Wheels on the Bus."  I felt compelled to stop and read, well, really sing, it.  Even on our late day.  What the heck?  Marin smiled as I went through it, and I asked if she remembered being little and going to library time and singing that song.  "Uh, maybe...."  I'm pretty sure that meant she didn't remember at all, but didn't want to offend me.  She's getting big.  Not a baby anymore.  She didn't do the hand motions w Wheels on the Bus.  **sigh**  She's growing up.

Then she wanted to wear jeans.  Huh??  Now, if you knew my kid, you would know fluffy and flouncy are her style.  She NEVER wears jeans.  Doesn't even like pants really.  She used to decide her wardrobe based on what was "a good spinner."  You know, fluffed out a lot when she spins around.  And here, she wants jeans.  She said, "the other kids wear jeans."  She also pointed out that she would be playing on the playground, and jeans are better for that.  Since when?  Since when do you care what the other kids are wearing?  Since when does playground attire matter?  It's beginning. Paying attention to what the other kids are doing.  Wanting to be part of the "in crowd."  This starts already?  She's growing up.

While we're driving to school she asked me, "will I go to first grade here?"  I told her I didn't know for sure.  We rent, she knows this house is not our own, she knows her room is not really "her" room, it's Cate's...  She tells me one of her classmates may move and have to go to a new school next year.   His parents are divorced.  His mom and daddy live in different places.  Is she worried about us moving?  Does she worry we will get divorced?  I assure her we will do our very best to keep her at the same school, regardless of if we move, and tell her we will all move together.  I didn't know she worried about these things.  Definitely growing up.

Our routine is I pull up to the school and park along the side, I get out, get her out and walk her to the edge of the sidewalk that leads directly into the building.  I don't walk her all the way up.  Anymore.  I help her on with her backpack, and she grabs my hand, with her eyes big and says, "Quick kiss Mommy!"  We peck and she's off.  Maybe it was the jeans.  Maybe it was the conversations.  Maybe it was the way her blonde curls were bouncing as she ran up that sidewalk after a friend.  It hit me.  She's growing up.  I can't stop it.

I've heard "you should blog!"

Here's the thing, who doesn't blog these days?  Does anyone want to read mine and my kids schinanigans?  Yet, at the same time, I would like to record all of the kiddos antics, so that maybe, just maybe, one of them (most likely the girl) will want to read them.  Maybe she'll take comfort when she has her own children-good grief, that would be my grandchildren-and she reads that she and her little brother made me want to pull out my hair some days, but I loved them desperately and only wanted the best for them.

Maybe, another mom out there, a friend of mine, or a friend of a friend, or a total stranger, will read something I wrote and relate.  Maybe they will feel like they are doing alright, raising their littles, 'cause if I can bumble along like this...

Oh, and I must have thought about blogging long ago, when I clicked the blogger link my friend posted for me, I logged on to the blogger site, low and behold, there was already a name for my blog!  If you are curious, and I know you are, "Slick" was the name given to me by my college roommates.  Because I had the ability to talk my way in, and out of most every situation, one evening a roommate commented, "you really are a slick mother f^%#er."  And a nickname was born.  It applied in the 20th century when I was barely 20 years old and living with 4 other girls at Penn State.  Let's see how it goes for my minivan driving, dance class car pooling, soccer game attending, church going, 30something, mommy-wife life.  And really, I got nothin' better floating around in my head and don't have time or ambition to come up w something better.  There's laundry to do, bread to bake, exercise to be done, blocks to be picked up, all while the boy naps and before we sit in the pick-up line!!!!

Slick out.