Spreading Wings And Yanking Out Hair

What better day to write my first blog post than the emotionally tumultuous firstborn child's first day of school? Why not? I decided to start this blog as an outlet for myself, to vent at the end of a long day. And also to compartmentalize my sometimes obsessive, and completely random thoughts throughout the day.  This is where the term "mommy brain" comes in. Every mom knows what I'm talking about. This feeling that there is constantly five different voices shouting in your head all at once. "I hope my four-year-old doesn't have to poop at school today because I'm not sure she knows how to wipe her butt properly without me hovering over her." "What kind of breakfast muffins should be next on my baking list?" "Did I put that laundry into the dryer that my husband asked me about?" Crap....seriously?! The list goes on... Of course, the mommy brain peaks on a very emotional day such as this. And without further ado....Brooklyn, my super sweet, sometimes sassy, four year old on her very first day of school.

 

The day started out relatively well, if you consider two children crammed into your seemingly shrinking queen size bed at 5:45 AM an optimal way to wake up. I was feeling pretty good when we left the house this morning. We were on time, everyone was clothed, teeth were brushed, bellies were full, and we hadn't misplaced or forgotten anything. You would have thought we had just been on an 800 mile car ride, rather than the three miles it is to get to school, the way Brooklyn jumped out of the car and bolted towards the school doors. At least someone was excited! (Hint: It wasn't me.) And the inside of my head sounded like this, "Excuse me, young lady! I birthed you only four short years ago. Come and give your mother a hug before you abandon me forever!" Then she was gone, into the world, spreading her wings....until I picked her up six hours later. Meanwhile...

 

Everyone...meet Laney, my two year old child that may or may not be possessed by a demon whenever the urge overtakes her. This is how Laney felt about her big sister going to school without her. I wouldn't say she was particularly pleased. After a 10 minute car ride, she showed no sign of being through with her red faced, eardrum damaging, mother of all tantrums. Does the word tantrum even suit this type of behavior? Do most children pull small clumps of their hair out in an all-consuming horrific rage? But alas, I should know better. Laney is not most children. She does everything with fervor. The way she plays, the way she talks, but the best one by far, the way she loves, which brings about moments like this...

I swear I could almost feel my heart melting. And these are the mommy moments that make it all worth while. That, or seeing the ear-to-ear grin on Brooklyn's face when I picked her up from school, or at bedtime when she told me, "I love you more than chocolate cupcake frosting." Sigh...