So I cried the other day--hard!
These tears were similar to the ones that make themselves known right as SCC's Cinderella song begins to drift out of the radio. They quite possibly are distant relative tears to the ones that appear towards the end of The Notebook too. I wouldn't say I'm the emotional ty--ok, maybe I would. But not about everything. Just certain things. And, especially when it comes to our 4under3.
I had just finished tucking and kissing the last of them in their beds for naps, I had the mail under my arm, and good grasp on my cell and a tall glass of agua con lemon. As I was making myself comfortable in a chair out on our deck, I started opening what appeared to be a package from the preschool Julia will be attending for the very.first.time this fall.
Ya know, we debated even sending her, Darn it! While Mr. Marvelous and I are both proud of our Elementary degrees, he specifically in middle school history and I in Early Childhood, we are confident we'd continue to do a fine job "teaching" her at home. But, the girl is in love with school...or the thought of it. School buses, playgrounds, backpacks, teachers--they're all on her mind, most all of the time.
So here I am, sobbing over the Release Form while molded memories of her flash through my head. Things like the day she was born, the day she said "purple," her first word, in the bathtub, the day she fell and chipped her front tooth while trying to perfect her new walking skills, and the day after we moved and she no longer shared a bedroom with her little brother, she was found snuggled up next to him in his crib--in his room--while he slept peacefully and was nonethewiser.
I'm telling you. This girl is my favorite.
Favorite big girl, that is. Luke is my favorite little guy, and the girls are my favorite little girls, of course. They're all my favorites, I guess. And that's what I tell them.
And I hope that's what Julia's teacher thinks of her. That wouldn't be too much to ask of Mrs. M at Meet the Teacher night, do you think?