Dream Wash

Wow, has it really been a week since I posted anything here? These kiddos are keeping me bizzzz-eeee, I tell you. I don't know where the days and weeks of summer are going. I do know that the stores are already putting all their summer stuff on clearance and putting out the back-to-school stuff!! What gives?

Anyhoo, just a quick little slice of sunshine before I hit the sack:

Joey, who shares a room with Kevin, sometimes has bad dreams. When it was time for bed tonight, Joey told me that he had a bad dream last night and asked me to sit with him for a while before he went to sleep. So I sat with him on his bed for a while, chit-chatting, and then asked him if he was ready to go to sleep. "Maybe I need some dream wash," he said. "Dream wash? What's dream wash?" I asked. Kevin piped up, "Oh, dream wash. I'll get you some, Joey." Kevin disappeared into the bathroom and came out a couple minutes later, bearing a dixie cup with, apparently, Dream Wash, in it. He gave it to Joey and told him to drink it down and that it would keep the bad dreams away. Joey was grateful.

Apparently this is not the first time. Turns out this "dream wash" is just water with a tiny bit of toothpaste in it for flavor. Kevin came up with this all on his own.

What a great kiddo. What a wonderful big brother. I suspect he's going to make an awesome dad some day.

It's About Time!

Behold, the lost tooth:

This came out this morning. Finally. Joey will be 8 years old here in a few short weeks, and this is only the third baby tooth he's let go of. And I do mean let go of. He lost his two front bottom teeth about a year ago after their having been loose for about six months. His two top front teeth have been loose forever. He's been completely freaked out about them coming out. He's very, very squeamish about blood, for one thing. For another . . . uh, actually I don't know what the other things might be.

Anyway, so this morning, it was clear that this tooth needed to come out. It was so loose it was practically blowing in the wind. After much drama and tears and threats from me and Dad that we would gladly remove it for him, he went into the bathroom and yanked it himself. Could a mom be more proud?

And really, I thought this boy could not possibly get any cuter, but I was wrong. He's even more handsome with the gap, don't you think?

Heart and Soul

It's the sixth game of Joey's first season playing Little League baseball, and he has yet to hit the ball in all the times he's been up to bat. He's got everything it takes: a good eye, grace, a strong swing, and the desire to slug it. He puts his heart into every swing he takes, but he's one of two kids on his team who still haven't gotten a hit. Maybe it's the pitching machine they use; seems like it's missing some human aspect. Maybe it's the pressure of being center stage. Who knows. But he's losing heart. After the last couple of games, he's asked his dad earnestly, "Dad, do you think I'll get a hit next game?"

The other night Michael and I were talking about his job, and all the stresses and expectations that come with being an attorney, and he said, "But you know, none of that matters at all when you just want your kid to hit the ball." It was a moment of pure clarity. It's not that it matters if Joey is a baseball superstar, what matters is that he taste the sweetness of success so he can feel good about himself. You want your kids to experience enough failure to teach them humility, and to succeed enough to instill confidence and self-worth.

So today: game six. White Sox vs. Athletics. Joey gets up to bat grinning when he sees us, his family, in the stands, pumping his arms up victoriously before he even steps to the plate. "Go JoEY!" I yell. He swings. Misses. Next pitch comes, Joey misses. Then a foul tip. He swings again, a little early, misses. That's it. "Good try, Joey! Next time!" I yell, feeling a pain in my heart for him.

A little while later, he's up to bat again. "Go JoEY!" I yell as he walks to the plate. I find myself biting my lip till I can almost taste blood, and praying even though I don't even believe in prayer, "Please let him hit the ball, please let him hit the ball . . ." The pitch comes in. He swings. Misses. "Please let him hit the ball, please let him hit the ball . . ." Another pitch comes in. He swings . . . and there it is, that telltale sound of aluminum smacking leather. "Go, Joey! Run! RUN!!!" Everyone is yelling and cheering. For a split second he looks bewildered, and then he runs towards first. I have tears leaking from my eyes.

The first baseman gets the ball and tags Joey out. But it doesn't matter.

He did it. He hit the ball.

A Big Day

Today was a big day.

I'm sitting here remembering how anxious and fearful I was at the beginning of the school year about how Daisy and Annabelle were going to cope in kindergarten in the face of all their issues. I wrote about it at the time here.

Today was Farm Day for the kindergartners at school. This is a day that has placed dread in my heart for two years, ever since Joey had Farm Day when he was in kindergarten and I realized that Daisy would have to face the same thing when she went to kindergarten. What is Farm Day? Live animals, folks. We're talking chickens and rabbits and a pony and a cow and a number of other farm creatures, trucked in and placed on the kindergarten playground. For two years I've imagined that Daisy would either have to stay home from school when Farm Day rolled around, or she would go to school but refuse to leave the classroom, or at the very worst, grow completely hysterical at the sight of the animals as she is wont to do.

Every day for the last week, the girls have been counting down - with enthusiasm. "Five days until Farm Day, Mommy!" "Only two more days until Farm Day!" I kept wondering if they realized there were going to be actual animals at school on Farm Day. So this morning, as they were leaving for school, Daisy gives me a hug and says, "Don't worry, Mommy, I'll be fine with the animals." Huh? Did somebody do a kid-transplant at my house last night?

Anyway, in a nutshell, Farm Day was a huge success for both of the girls. They both participated fully, even going outside and petting the animals. No tears. No hysteria.

I think back to how scared I was at the beginning of the school year. Daisy uses the restroom at school (she's still afraid of the loud, automatic flushing, but she'll do it if Annabelle goes with her). She's ridden on a school bus for a field trip. And now she's petting live animals.

Okay, she's still scared of our dog, but I'll take whatever progress comes our way.

We also had parent-teacher conferences this afternoon for Daisy, Annabelle and Joey. All good stuff; they're all doing really well academically, emotionally, and behaviorally. Apparently we have successfully fooled the teachers into thinking we are good parents who provide our kids with positive life-experiences that are helping them develop into happy, well-adjusted and successful children ;)