You know how when older moms or (grandma age) ladies tell you to enjoy your three year old because it goes way to fast? And they're telling you this in the middle of the Hobby Lobby checkout line? At Christmas time? When there are 57 people in line with their tiny carts over-flowing with Christmas shit? And your kid is completely out of patience and he's near the level of screaming because you won't let him buy the candy they conveniently have at the register? And you wonder why anyone in their right mind would ever tell you to enjoy this age? But you decide you probably shouldn't kick her or give her the finger because she must be senile?
Yeah, if you read my blog, you probably know that exact situation very well. It's annoying as hell. Sometimes I just wanna yell, "STOP TELLING ME THAT! STOP. THIS AGE SUCKS! AND YOU KNOW NOTHING BECAUSE YOU'RE EIGHTY-FREAKIN-TWO YEARS OLD AND YOU FORGOT THAT YOUR CHILDREN WERE TERRORS. AND ALL YOU DO IS SPOIL YOUR GREAT-GRANDCHILDREN. SHUT UP."
I might have over done the caps there, and clearly I would never be that mean to the elderly, but pretty much that's what goes on in my head. Every time. Every time they turn their head to the side, look down at my child destroying the best store on the planet and they smile, saying, "enjoy this age...it goes too fast."
Up until this week, that's what's been in my head. This week has changed me a bit.
As you all know, Kaleb started a new class this week. It's a pre-school class and it's more like "school". Well, as much as it can be. They follow the school districts curriculum and they do more learning than playing, per say. I was very nervous about this change because I know how change upsets K and to be real honest, change makes me nervous too. So I guess he gets it honestly. I was proud of him when we got the news but I was still so unsure.
Monday came and Kaleb cried most of the way to school because he already didn't "wike" his new class. I pretty much had to peel him out of the car, carry him into the school, and then had to stop midway because carrying a 40lb lifeless, boneless, fit throwing child, is near impossible.
While I was frustrated, I was also so worried about him. I knew what he was feeling. I was so much like that when I was little. Anything new or different in my schedule made me wanna puke.
I was finally able to get him in the classroom and God bless the familiar face of an old classmate slash girlfriend-ish. I'll call her....Rachel.
I don't know Rachel's mom or dad personally, and my guess is they wouldn't like having their kids name plastered all over here without permission. So Rachel it is.
I like Rachel. She's extra kind to me, as the mom. She greets me every day and always compliments my outfit. I'm pretty sure she also believes she's K's girlfriend, which surprisingly, I'm okay with that because Rachel is well liked.
Wow. I really got off track there.
Anyways, Rachel was a familiar face for K and as soon as he saw her, he wiped his tears with Blankie and looked at me like, "uhhhh bye Felicia Mom. Seriously, why are you still standing there? Rachel is watching, please go now." I was quickly dismissed, but not before I snapped a picture of course.
As I got into my car, looking back at the picture I just took, I thought, "there he goes. He's grown up. I didn't enjoy age three like all the old people told me to" and I might have had tears.
Here's where we get to the real point of this post.
Kaleb has aged and matured night and day, just in this week. Not only is he in a school-ish type class, he's signed up to be in this basketball camp thing where he learns a basketball "routine" and he'll get to perform it at a Baylor game during halftime. I mean, he's three. And he's playing basketball. Not to mention, he also got invited to his first sleepover. I made the executive decision to polity decline though, because he was invited by all girls, which is a whole 'nother issue in itself. But still. My baby is learning letters, playing basketball and getting invited to sleepovers.
I'm a broken record with this but just be my friend and go with it. It breaks my heart when I think about how much Kaleb has changed since Charles has been gone. This is something I struggle with a lot, it's something I can't wrap my mind around. Kaleb had just turned 2 when C died. Two. TWO. Age two was a baby compared to this. At age two he was still in the cute baby section of clothes. He was still in diapers. He was still drinking from sippy cups and eating the fruit/veggie combo squeeze pouches. Wow. Age 3.5 looks so different. Age 3.5 is full of ugly teenage mutant ninja turtle clothing, which I refuse to buy, and not only is he wearing real underwear, he's wiping his own butt and eating regular meals, sometimes more food than you can imagine. Age 3.5 is outta this world, man.
I'll be the first to admit, I haven't been enjoying it. I've been whining about it for over 6 months, until this week. Maybe it was the lady in Hobby Lobby, maybe it's the new class or maybe it's just me but this week has been better. Even if it is just my mind set, I'm giving the credit to Kaleb. He puts up with my shit and still soars.
Yesterday when I picked him, the teacher had nothing but great things to say about him. He's listening, behaving, participating and being a classroom helper. Even though I don't see this behavior at home all that often, I'm beyond proud of my guy. And I know his dad is proud too.
As far as the little old ladies go, I'm sure glad they're still here, in this world, to tell us the truth. After all, they've been through it and lived to tell us about it. They're words have to be worth something, right?