This week all of the Pine Village locations are having their stepping up/graduation ceremonies and it’s made me start to reflect not just on James’ year at Pine Village, but on what has changed over the course of the last year.
For example, a year ago at this time, we were still happily in diapers. (And by “we” I of course mean “James,” although with him being #3 we’re on the older side of the parenting pool, so the day the ‘we’ refers to more than him may not be that far away.) As I write this, I have just put him to bed for the first time ever without a safety net. (And by “safety net,” I of course mean “diaper or some other absorbent-like contraption.”) Half an hour and four bathroom trips later (his, not mine, although anyone who knows me knows I can give him a run for his money), he is finally asleep — where he will most likely stay until three in the morning, at which point I will no doubt be regretting the no diaper decision. (And by “regretting,” I of course mean, standing there in the middle of the night with a crying, soaking wet toddler; perhaps also a crying, soaking wet mommy.)
Another year-ago-at-this-time remembrance is that I was still invited to his birthday party. Or, rather, that I hadn’t been disinvited. Forget the fact that his birthday is in August — at some point around October, “You can’t come to my party” became a favorite refrain.
Me: James, please don’t hit your sister.
James: I will hit my sister if I want and you are not invited to my party.
Me: James, I’d like you to eat your carrots.
James: I don’t want to eat my carrots and you are NOT invited to my party.
Me: James, it’s time to get in the car.
James: I don’t want to get in the car and you are NOT invited to my PARTY.
James: Daddy and Will and Lucy are invited to my party. But, Mommy, YOU ARE NOT INVITED TO MY PARTY.
So, well, for all those of you who are invited to his party (the list grows day by day), please tell me how it goes.
Hmmmm. Other things from a year ago:
- He stayed in the clothes we put him in to start with.
- He took naps. LONG, peaceful naps.
- I could still outrun him.
There’s a part of me that misses that sweet, docile, adorable baby. At the same time, I have to admit, I’ve always been a bit of a sucker for the opinionated, adamant, unwilling-to-let-the-fact-that-everyone-in-the-entire-world-(including the “babies” [according to the wise, old preschoolers] in the Toddler classroom)-is-bigger-than-him-stop-him-from-articulating-what-he-wants child. Especially when that child still has the sweetest smile in the world.
So, James, I will watch with pride as you sing your song (perhaps) and do your dance (I hope) and refrain from head butting anyone not related to you (fingers crossed).
PreK, here we come…