I'm Sorry

Dearest Superman,

I have been sitting here, assessing my day, our day, and I feel it necessary to let you know that I am sorry.

I am sorry for being so impatient with you today. You are almost five. You are on fire! You have more energy than you or I know what to do with. It is not your fault. You need to LIVE! You need to EXPLORE! You have so many questions and after five minutes I gave up and sent you to your daddy (who by the way, has a newfound respect for the usual interruptions that occur at the office).

It was a day today, wasn't it? You were nonstop from the moment you woke up. When we all trekked over to mommy's classroom to do some organizing and cleaning up, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You opened up boxes and took out blocks and math manipulatives, and everything I did, you undid. Mommy and Daddy were getting upset and after two hours we called it quits.

You are so full of life and love and sometimes it spills right out of you before any of us know what to do with it. You want to know EVERYTHING. And you want second and third chances and you really really love to make a mess but aren't too keen on cleaning it up. You are so sensitive and so emotional. I only sent your buddy home because you were smack in the middle of a meltdown and I knew it was your way of saying ENOUGH!

I am new at this. This bigger, older, more awake version of you. I am trying and learning and I am bound to make mistakes. And I don't want you to think for one second that because you were a total spazz today that I am not looking forward to what you've got in store for us tomorrow.

So I wanted to let you know, that I will try harder. That I will practice being more patient and more understanding and more prepared for the energetic young man that you are becoming.

Because I am up to the challenge.

Because I love you.

Because you are my superman.

Love Always,

Your very tired, but very determined, Mommy.

Already?

He was born with big blue eyes, a headful of dark hair. He was screaming and wet when they first placed him on my chest and I knew instantly, in those first few seconds, that my world would never be the same. I fell madly in love and cried, and stared into a face that would forever be a part of me. And I dove head first into a love that I knew I could never fully comprehend. I promised him the world and when I finally slept, it was with one eye open.

Six years have passed. If possible, I am more in love now than that very first day we met. I sometimes have trouble looking at him without getting goosebumps. I gaze at school pictures, remembering my fears and excitement, his very first day of school, his backpack two sizes too big, swallowing his tiny frame.

I lingered in the classroom that day, mentally making sure it was safe for my monchichi. I studied the teacher intently, watched her greet her students, making sure her smile was sincere. I almost hesistated when I finally walked away. I wanted to run back and grab my son and never let him go. I was not prepared for this. He was growing up and I wanted to throw a tantrum.

Only a mother could understand my pain and confusion.

Now, first grade is one week away. First grade. I will buy him a new backpack and I will comb his hair. I will drive him to his new school, farther away from home than his first. I will linger in the classroom, speak with his teacher, and I will hesitate at the door when it is time for me to go. I will cry on the way home; there is so much pride and grief and fear. I am crying now, thinking of my little man growing faster than I can stand. His chubby fingers are getting longer. He is gawkier than ever and it just makes me want to protect him more. He is my newborn in a first grader's body.

How do I protect him from the world? How do I prevent him from falling, from bruising, from rejection? How do I keep from going crazy when he is in the care of someone who has far less invested in my little miracle?

How is this ever going to work?



*after being lazy and on vacation, I am back to blogging. Thank you, dear readers, for checking in!*

Tractors, Thunderstorms, Farms, Oh My!

We departed our bustling world of Orange County on Tuesday night, taking the red eye to Cleveland, Ohio (Hello OHmommy!). We boarded an express jet and flew into Albany and picked up our comfy and clean rental car. We drove two hours south and found ourselves in Keesville, NY. We were in the middle of nowhere.

And so far, WE LOVE IT.

My mother in law has a huge property and lots of grass and trees and well, I mean, Nature is everywhere around here! Where are the freeways? Who cares! Where is the mall? Who cares! Where is the Target................um, right, who cares!

Monchichi, who is addicted to tractors, has his own John Deere in the backyard. A real one! So far he's been on it 1,345,879 times and still counting!

The air is clean and fresh and we had thunderstorms yesterday. Rain! The porch door was open and the breeze and the smell were amazing. There is no smog. There are no Escalades. There are very few Jonese's to try and keep up with. It is glorious.

Last summer we traveled much farther, to europe. We had four suitcases stuffed to the brim, our first overseas trip as a family. We had high expectations and they were more than met. We saw Prague, Berlin, and my beloved Krakow. We took over 1000 pictures. We spent entire paychecks searching for the perfect pierogi. We bought wooden swords and hand crafted toys and bottles of Zybrowka. We came home exhausted and satisfied.

This year our plans were different. This year we told friends and family that we were off to Keeseville, NY and we heard a lot of "Why's" and "Where's?" and "Huh's?"

Little did they know we were going to be smack in the middle of paradise. A real slice of American Pie. Complete with small town folks with Big North Country hearts.

We are living it up, Keesville Style.