Last Day of Second Grade

Wow, I can tell it's been a while since I posted last - Blogger has changed everything!  Weird.

So today is Caralie's last day of second grade.  Which doesn't seem right, since she just started yesterday.  Or at least it feels like she did.  I read somewhere that when you are a parent the days are long but the years are short and, holy cow, is that true.  In fact, parenting is really creeping me out with this weirdo time warp where time is obnoxiously slow and then eerily fast at the same time.  I hate getting up early to take Caralie to school (well, I hate getting up early for anything) but at the same time I don't want that to end because that means another school year has whizzed by and I'm so not ready for the next one.

She keeps growing and getting older.  I'm not okay with this.  Especially since I've been reading too many Jody Picoult novels, which always leave me in stark fear of the teenage years and screwing my kid up for life.  And she's 8, which in 1952 still equaled 8 years old, but in 2012 can equal 13.  Luckily, she's still clinging somewhat to the little girl phase (probably because she has no older siblings) and actually still thinks I'm cool.  She holds my hand in public, wants me to lay down with her when I tuck her in at night, and tells me that she loves me more than anything else in the universe.  And I'm terrified of the day when that stops.  When I'm suddenly irritating, stupid, and not someone to confide in.  Oh my goodness, I could seriously whither up and die just thinking about it.

So, let's get back to the fun stuff.  She's not 16 yet (thank you, Lord).

She insisted on dressing up for the last day of school and even wanted to wear her sequined Christmas dress, but I convinced her that a skirt was more appropriate.

Last night we put together the gifts for her teacher, Miss Stienbacher (who will shortly be Mrs. Gray).  I'd seen a cute teacher gift on Pinterest using old-fashioned soda bottles with a creative note and Caralie approved:

You can find the downloadable pdf here.

I wasn't satisfied with just giving her soda pop, though, so we also picked up a canvas tote bag at Michael's and freezer paper stenciled a 'G' on front (for her new last name).  Luckily, I had some cute striped fabric on hand to make a bow.  I think it turned out cute.

Anyway, I'm curious to see how she does this afternoon.  Caralie inherited my sensitive nature (for good and for bad) and I'm a little worried she's going to be worked up.  Not only is Miss Stienbacher moving to California, but so is one of her best buddies, Jasmine.  I'm hoping she's finally able to convince her friend, Sabrina, to give us her phone number so we can set up a play date.  The kids in our neighborhood leave something to be desired.  Which probably makes me sound like a snob, but there it is.  At least she has a birthday party on Saturday to look forward to.

Here's to summer vacation and sleeping in (as much as your children will let you)!

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Thankful Thursday

I've been so bad about keeping up with my Thankful Thursday posts and it's not because I'm not thankful, but mostly because I've been distracted and lazy.

Today I am thankful that this is my last day on crutches. Having a broken foot has really humbled me and driven me crazy. What I'm taking from this experience is that the Lord really wanted me to be grateful for what I have. I tend to have pity parties about my health and physical problems and really needed a wake-up call that I still have it pretty darn good! I can walk (soon), climb stairs (soon), do laundry, cook, carry something from one room to another (normally)! I may not be able to do all the things I want to, but at least I can do the things I need to.

Anyway, I've been a little stressed out lately over anything and everything and a -- let's call him a good friend -- gave me this as a mantra of sorts:

LET GO

To let go does not mean to stop caring, it means I can't do it for someone else.

To let go is not to cut myself off, it's the realization I can't control another.

To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go is not to try to change or blame another, it's to make the most of myself.

To let go is not to care for, but to care about.

To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.

To let go is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes but to allow others to affect their destinies.

To let go is not to be protective, it's to permit another to face reality.

To let go is not to deny, but to accept.

To let go is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires but to take each day as it comes, and cherish myself in it.

To let go is not to criticize and regulate anybody but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To let go is not to regret the past but to grow and live for the future.

To let go is to fear less, and love more.

No Pride

CARALIE: Mommy, what is that on your face? Wow! Is that a zit?!

ME: Unfortunately, yes.

CARALIE: Wow, that looks bad. Are you going to cover it up? I hope you are going to cover it up.

ME: Yes, I'm going to cover it up! Sheesh!

CARALIE: I hope so. I mean, that looks really bad. I'm glad you're going to cover it up because I don't want anyone seeing you like that.

ME: Gee, thanks kid!

CARALIE: I'm not trying to be mean. I just think you need to cover it up really good because it looks really bad. I really hope no one sees it.



It is impossible to have an ego when you have a kid!

Birthday Party!!!

We had Caralie's birthday party today at Peter Piper Pizza. We got a Rapunzel cake from Target and made up some princess-y goodie bags:


Everyone had a great time:

She got to design her own pizza. She wanted sausage and olives:

Ripley was a crazy-woman and had a little pizza with her Parm:

And she got enough tickets to get this lovely number:

She gave Caralie a butterfly craft kit, hair glitter, body lotion, and body glitter:

Bailey gave her a pink lava lamp:

Taylor gave her a Barbie mermaid and mini-mermaid with dolphin:

Trinity gave her a beautiful Barbie with a sparkly streak of purple hair (her favorite color):

Here's the lovely ladies all together:

Taylor, Bailey, Trinity, Caralie, and Ripley

Caralie had some serious birthday luck and managed to win 988 tickets! She ended up with a purple slinky, a purple puff pen, a fuzzy purple Diva ball, a stuffed tiger, and two Smarties.

We got to take two of the girls home and they had some serious fun in the back of the car:
Overall, it was a great party and I'm glad we did it. Now Chad and I need a nap...

8th Birthday

When you woke up on your birthday, you discovered that your room was full of purple balloons! When you opened the door to your bedroom, you found a curtain of purple streamers. Then upstairs you saw a mountain of presents on the coffee table to torture you for 12 hours.

Your birthday was also "Nerd Day" at school so you wore an FBI t-shirt, a baseball cap, and nerdy play glasses (you designed the outfit all by yourself). The night before we spent a couple of hours making playdough cookies that you took to share with your class.

I didn't make you do your homework when you got home from school cuz I'm cool like that. We went to dinner with Grammy and Grandpa at Red Robin (your choice) and you proceeded to order macaroni and cheese (big surprise) and freckled lemonade. Mommy got the A1 Peppercorn Burger and loved it. Daddy and Grandpa had 2 rootbeer floats EACH. Since it was your birthday, you got a free ice cream sundae with fudge and sprinkles.

Once we got home it was on to opening presents. Nani and Bapa had sent you a pretty shirt and a sparkly coin purse (with $3 in it!):

But your favorite gift from them was definitely your doll, Elsa, and her cute clothes:

She's blonde with blue eyes and a sprinkle of freckles, just like you. Mommy doesn't like her short skirt...but we'll let it slide this time.

Mommy and Daddy got you lots o' stuff like Beverly Cleary books, a pretty dress with matching glitter shoes, etc., but your favorite gift from us were these Legos:

They are finally making good Legos for girls!

Grammy and Grandpa got you lots and lots of scrapbooking and cardmaking supplies:

Grammy also plans to help you make some new clothes for Elsa. You were so excited to get this salon chair:

You have already styled Elsa's hair!

Since we had a cake on order for your party on Saturday, we just did ice cream sundaes for those who could stomach them after all that dinner. So we stuck a candle in your ice cream:

I works. Overall, you had a great day and were seriously pooped once you got to bed.

And, no, you were not able to finish your SECOND sundae.

Happy 8th Birthday, sweet girl!

Eight is Great

Dear Caralie,

You turn eight years old today. Wait...what?!? How is that possible? Yesterday you looked like this:

You were tiny! You were noisy! You ate all. the. time. I loved you so, so much.

And today you are this?:

You are big! You are noisy! You eat all. the. time. And I still love you so, so much. And so does your daddy. In fact, we think you are pretty special. Especially since we made you with equal parts awesome and fabulous. (Actually, those traits typically run on MY side of the family, hee hee.)

I never really thought I'd ever be old enough to have an eight-year-old, but here I am. And you know what? It's not so bad. You are smart, kind, and independent. And fiercely loyal to me in all things, which is arguably your best trait. And I'll enjoy it as long as I can because in another eight years you will think my brain is made of mashed potatoes.

I'm proud of all that you are and take credit for none of it. You came into this world and blessed me with more than I could have ever imagined. I'm grateful to be your mom. (Except when you get sassy and talk back. Then you are your father's child.)

I love you, sweet pea. Thanks for making me a mom.