Crabby Transitions

Since the birth of my daughter, I have hated the end of the summer. It means no more trips to the zoo and no more lazy PJ days and no more driveway art. Instead it becomes all about getting prepared, getting it all done and getting there on time. And I hate it.

This week I will rush to make everything perfect in my new classroom so that the year will flow by smoothly and easily, without the age old conundrum of "where did I put that?" This week, I will make my room as cozy as possible, with all the cute remembrances of Jenny to keep me constantly focused on the really important parts of my life. And this week, I will cling to every last moment of summer I possibly can while at the same time trying to help Jenny through this new transition from home to babysitter and then on to preschool too.

And I'm crabby about it all. On the one side, yes, it's exciting to start a new year with new classes and a new classroom and new . . .new . . new... But on the other hand, I just don't want to do it. I don't want to leave Jenny behind, just when things were getting good. And I'm crabby about it . . . .

As brilliant as my little girl is, I know that this part of the year is difficult for her. She's fighting the change too - a new daycare situation (a familiar face, but still a change), and a new preschool to start up in September - though she loves to learn new things and will enoy making new friends, I hope. I suppose it's what makes me a little more tolerant of her insistence upon watching Nemo while she's curled up with me on the couch with a sippie cup and her blanket.

And when she gets really crabby like I do, I guess it makes me a little more sympathetic to her situation, for I too don't want to leave summer behind.

But autumn is coming - my favorite time of the year. And for the first time, I can actually begin to share that with her - the crunch of the leaves, trick or treating, the county fair. And before I know it, Thanksgiving and Christmas and snow days and Spring Break and then her birthday and another summer.

I guess my job isn't so terrible after all. The stress of the kids and the parents and the meetings and the added duties and, and, and . . . a summer with Jenny as a reward.

So for my daughter who will still be crabby for another month as she gets used to things, I will try to make the best of the time I will get in the evenings, not dwelling on the things that I am missing out on during the work day, but instead being gloriously happy for the things I do get.

The swingset that made me cry

Three years ago, I never thought I'd ever get to see a swingset in my back yard. Three years ago, I never thought I'd ever hear the giggling laughter of a child as she called out "Mommy, push me higher!" Three years ago, I never thought we'd ever have a child.

But today, my little girl's face lit up the moment she saw the swingset her Daddy has made for her. She ran to it and cried out, "Swing me, Mommy!" And we swung and swung and swung until she noticed the slide and decided she wanted to stop swinging for a moment and "Go Slide Now, Daddy." Three rungs up and my little girl crawled over to the slide and slid down - two little waves and then plop - butt in the dirt - and giggles all around. "Again, again!" and she was up the ladder and across the platform and down. And then the swing again. And after watching her cousin Gabby tackle the rings, Jenny grabbed one in each hand, tugged up her feet and held on for dear life.

And that sweet sound of giggling laughter, like creek water over rocks, filled my heart to the point of tears. Those tears that suddenly rose to my eyes were of pure and simple joy. A prayer come true.

Three years ago, there was no hope for us ever conceiving a child, let alone carrying it to full term.
Now, I have Jenny.
And a swingset in my backyard.

Jenny Dreamed of Trains

It seems John Denver wrote a song for my little girl. I should send him a thank you for giving her a better song than, "Jenny (867-5309)." This is the song and I have just fallen in love with it. It is so very much the way I hoped my daughter would be: a little bit strange, and a little bit magical.

When Jenny was a little girl she only dreamed of trains
She never played with dolls or lacy kinds of things
Jenny counted boxcars instead of countin' sheep
She could go anywhere when she went to sleep

All she ever talked about was gettin' on to ride
She was livin' in another time you could see it in her eyes
Everyday after school she'd head down to the tracks
Waitin' for the train that was never comin' back

Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains

The depot's been boarded up, the rails have turned to rush
There hasn't been a train through here since the mill went bust
No one believed her when she said she heard the train
She was just a little girl actin' kinda strange

Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains

Jenny laid a penny on the track one day
In God we trust she walked away
The very next mornin' all that she could find
Was a little piece of copper squashed flatter than a dime

Jenny dreamed of trains
When the nighttime came
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains
Nobody knew how she made it come true
Jenny dreamed of trains