First Day of School

Today Genevieve had her first day of school.  She's visiting Alex's school this week while Ryanne is on vacation.

It was an unqualified success!  She was already excited this morning before we left the house.  Getting to take her very own backpack was particularly fun.  When we got to school, the teachers in the "Toddler" room (which she will grow out of in exactly 9 days when she turns 2) were extremely attentive and welcoming.  We came during circle time, so all the kids were sitting quietly and listening to stories and songs.

Dana and I were reluctant to say goodbye, but Genevieve didn't seem to mind very much.  I admit that I thought about Genevieve all day long and worried that she might not be comfortable or happy.

As it turns out, I did not need to worry.  When I arrived at school to pick the kids up, the Director told me that Genevieve had enjoyed her entire day, and was one of the best children the teachers had ever had in class.  She was happy, engaged, did what the teachers asked, and fell right asleep at nap time.  She ate all of her lunch and even got to visit with Alex in the afternoon.

Happy girl after her first day of school

Genevieve will be in school thru Monday, then will return part time later this summer or fall.

In other news, we made a small investment in nap time and bedtime at home.  We bought a set of blackout shades for the West-facing upstairs hallway windows.  With these installed now we can darken all of the upstairs at any time of day.  This has made it slightly easier to get the kids down for naps on the weekend, and to move them towards bedtime in the summer while it stays light out until 9pm.  In the winter we'll still be able to leave them wide open to help wake the kids up in the mornings.




This past weekend we visited Old Town Fort Collins to walk around on a sunny morning.  We had breakfast at a great little restaurant called Ingredient, and then walked around for an hour to burn off some pancakes. We stopped by the Starry Night Cafe, which is where Alex first met Ryanne almost 4 years ago.  It is amazing how much has happened in our lives!

Alex and Genevieve outside the Starry Night

Big Girl, potty time, excellent

Today we bought Genevieve her first pair of big girl underpants. It's very strange to think we will someday soon be done with diapers. She loves the new underpants by the way, although she needs some practice - she went thru 2 pairs in 10 minutes after her bath tonight.

Speaking of underpants, Alex has now gone almost a week (since last Sunday night) wearing underpants to bed without incident. We still wake him up a couple of times each night to go potty. He doesn't really wake up at all, just kind of slumps over half asleep, but it gets the job done.

Someday, as parents, we will again resume sleeping thru the night. But I am afraid that at about that same time we will have to begin staying up late waiting for one of the kids to get home.

A Dad

What a sweet boy.  You ushered me into fatherhood so gently 4 years ago, I hardly knew it was happening to me.  I watch you lie sleeping beside me, your soft breathing marking time as you drift into your dreams of trucks and campers, thunderstorms, moms and Dads, who knows what else.  I love this time.  You are asleep, I am half awake.  I love it and yet I must leave you there in your little bed.  I have so many things to do as your Dad.  I have to go. I have to go work to make money to support you;  I have to take care of this house we bought for you;  I have to make sure your Mommy is happy and well rested.  And yet I know – I am certain – that in just a few years, years that will rush past us so quickly, I will miss these moments that are gone forever.  These 4 years have slipped by so fast, right out from under us.  One moment I was holding you in the hospital, staring into your perfect eyes, giving you your first sponge bath, helpless while you cried at the shocking air and cold and noise, but instinctively you trusted me.  Walking thru town with you strapped to my chest, alternately dozing off and listening intently as I babbled on, block after block, pouring words into your tiny ears.  Your first day of daycare when you would not let me go;  Sitting in front of your high chair in the mountains, feeding you strawberries, yogurt, reveling in each others’ company.  Being amazed at the sudden thoughts that come out of your mouth as ideas and hints and whims turn into words.  So many car trips, trading banter back and forth as we head nowhere in particular;  hundreds, maybe thousands of pages of books read to you in my lap, next to me in bed, in the car, on airplanes, outside, in our special places, sometimes barely awake to finish the story.

I know those days are slipping away from us, and I want to stop time and spend just a little longer with you now, even as I begin to tiptoe away from you sleeping there.  I know that soon I will trade almost anything in the world for just one more nap cuddled next to you.  And yet even now, at this very moment I barely acknowledge this embarrassment of riches before me. So many sweet hugs, hands held across streets and alleys, increasingly sophisticated arguments, innocent questions that stop my heart, soft brushes of your little hands across my scratchy face.  So many tiny, unrecordable, unforgettable moments slide past me that I almost don’t bother to catch them out of the air and embrace them.  I know that I should; like they are the last breaths of air I will gulp.  But life keeps rolling out in front of us. We can’t help but be swept up by it. We can’t help but underestimate our own joy in passing.  We have to live each day, even while we watch it close behind us.  

Soon you will be bigger.  You won’t need me anymore for the simple things you rely on me now. I won’t have to help you wipe your bottom.  I won’t have to help you put on your shoes. “Is this the right foot, Daddy?” You can already wash your own hands.  You’re almost riding your bicycle.  And you’re no longer terrified by big dogs, school on Monday mornings, or strangers.

I can’t help wondering what you’ll need me for then.  I know we will have amazing adventures together. We’ll learn new things together. We’ll have remarkable conversations. I’ll still teach you new things almost every day.  Maybe you’ll listen to me sometimes. I hope I’ll always listen to you.   I hope we’ll always love eating pancakes together.  I hope you’ll be the good influence on your new friends, and not the recipient of bad.  I hope you'll always giggle at my awful nonsequiturs.

I will try my best to never find our time together taxing or distracting.  It's all the other things that come along that distract me from my time with you.