March-ing On

Times, they are a-changin' in the Bear household.

Yesterday, I signed Keira up for her first preschool drop-off class. Eeeeeeeeek! Granted, a once-a-week, three-hour preschool class may not be a big deal for some kids (or moms), but this is a pretty big step for us--thanks to my job-sharing and Bear & I working opposite schedules, we've never had to use daycare or babysitters outside of family. We tried putting Keira in an in-home daycare/preschool here in our neighborhood shortly after Elliana was born, just to give her the experience and me a break, but that turned out to be a gigantic flop: Keira cried after I left, Mean Woman apparently YELLED at her for it, and when I went to pick her up, I found her sobbing into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the kitchen table while Mean Woman and the other kids ignored her. [insert my heart breaking here] When I went to comfort her, Mean Woman then lectured me on how I shouldn't let her tug on my heart strings too much, and told me I had to "show her who's boss" and not "give in to her tantrums" if I didn't want her "tied to my apron strings forever."

Funny how things change in less than a year--at the time, I fretted over it, wondered if she was right, and went back and forth for days on end over whether to send Keira back (I didn't). If she gave me that speech today, I have no doubt I'd tell her we weren't in the market for a toddler boot camp, recommend that she grow some empathy, and march out her door without looking back....but I digress.

After that incident, we decided to give it "a few whiles," as Keira would say, before trying any sort of preschool-type situation again. In the meantime, we formed our weekly Chick Fil-A Family Night habit, which ended up bringing out all sorts of independence in our shy little girl: she got used to playing with the other kids in the play area, going to the activity table and talking to the employees on her own, and chasing the giant cow around the restaurant in search of high-fives. We also joined a parent-child playgroup, and the teacher is a super-gentle, nurturing woman Keira has grown to love, so now, I *think* she's ready to join that same teacher's drop-off preschool class next month. I know I am definitely, 100% ready to have a 3-hour break each week to run errands or do chores with only one child in tow, as long as it doesn't result in Major Trauma to Keira's wee psyche in the process. So, we'll see.

And then there's Ellie-Bug, who is allegedly turning ONE in less than a month, so preparations are already underway for her (well, duh) ladybug-themed party. I told Bear that as long as she still smells like a baby, I really don't think she should be allowed to be a full year old already, but there you have it--time, as they say, marches on, with or without our permission. She's popped out three more teeth in the past few weeks, is trying to talk, loves push-toys, and seems ready to take off walking any minute now. I'm working on gradually weaning her, so we're down to nursing three times a day (plus the once or twice a night that she still insists on), and don't even get me started on my mixed feelings on that; suffice it to say that the thought of nursing her for the last time gets me all teary...but the thought of getting up multiple times a night for much longer gets me all INCREDIBLY EXHAUSTED AND BORDERLINE INSANE.

Finally, I'll be turning the big 3-0 in a couple of weeks. Buh-bye, twenties! I'll be spending the next 18 days or so focusing on the fact that Rachel McAdams and Charlize Theron are some of my fellow thirty-somethings (right, because I have sooooo much in common with them otherwise)...and not on the fact that 30 is both the average age of retirement for NFL players, and the age Tom Leykis refers to as a woman's "expiration date."

Psssshaw.