First Day of Preschool

"Ok, Bella, time to get ready for preschool," I say nonchalantly because I was trying a new approach where I don't make a big deal about her very first day of preschool. 

VERY FIRST. 

Day of (pre)SCHOOL. 

I've been thinking about this day since I was babysitting everyone else's kids in my youth, dreaming of this day through my first pregnancy and totally, high pitched giddy about this day since May when we signed her up. I know that sounds very grandiose, but I promise I'm not exaggerating. Sending my own child into school for the first time I imagined to be a remarkable milestone with emotions I would never quite understand. 

Here it was. Our first day of preschool and it started off with a giant, hissy, whiney fit. She wouldn't get dressed, wanted to watch that God awful Bratz movie on Netflix (one of the very few titles I don't let her watch) and everything was just so unfair to her because she had to stop watching her 3rd show that morning to get ready. FOR THE FIRST DAY OF PRESCHOOL. (I know, 3 SHOWS, how awful of me. I was slow going with back trouble and getting showered and dressed and an infant fed and ready took the length of 3 shows.)

We talked it out and regained composure and we talked lightly about the day as we got dressed.
"We'll go see daddy so he can take our picture and then we'll go to school and Baabaa will stay in the car and then we'll go eat lunch with daddy and then we'll go home and lay down."
"What we doing after nap?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Ok. Mommy?"
"Yeah?"
"Me no want you to come with me to school."
"You want me to drop you off?"
"Yes."
"Ok, Sweety. That's a great idea. I'm going to go blow dry my hair and then I would like you to come in here so I can do your hair."
"Ok."
I go to her bathroom and close the door and cry. 

That was the plan all along. The plan was to drop her off. This was her first day with no parents and I was so excited to drop her off and take Isla for a stroll down Massachusetts Street.

But she asked me to let her be. And I wasn't prepared for that. This is the very start of her not needing me anymore. Not as much. And I've been waiting for it. Bracing for it. Looking forward to it, even. But it's different when it actually happens. 

When she voluntarily lets go of your hand and walks bravely into the world. My heart wasn't ready.

She let go of my hand, walked calmly into her classroom and I watched her little Dora back pack bounce around the corner. She hardly gave a goodbye because she was so ready. 

An hour later, I anxiously awaited for the classroom door to open and the kids to come swarming out. I watched and shuffled the stroller around and jabbered to people and watched more. I was distracted by something when I was almost knocked over by her enormously fierce little hug around my legs. Perfect. 

It took all of two minutes for her to go back to being a little twerp so all of the pangs of parenthood and growing up were snuffed quickly. But I'll take it. So very soon she'll be going into elementary school, then having boy troubles, then asking me hard questions and then she's grown up experiencing hard questions. 

So, I'll take this. And the fights over Bratz. 

Taking time by the reigns

I desperately need to make time slow down. 

I watched Isla pull herself up to standing and impulsively put my hands to my cheeks and just stared at her. It's happening too fast!

Bella starts preschool in one month (actually, since my posting this it's actually two weeks). The last time I saw her with a back pack on, waiting for me to be ready to go, it broke my heart. They are growing up so fast.

It's been bothering me that I haven't posted anything since my last post, which was tired, deflated and negative. I've been nagging at myself to get on here and write anything, no matter how eloquent or well thought through anything is, and just record a written update of these times. Partly because I feel like the balance has tipped more towards only sharing the negatives and the hard stuff and not enough of the every day moments of clarity and breaking love, like the back pack moment.

Also because this time is ever so fleeting. 

In my last post, I was in such a hard chapter of balancing the new baby and her demands with a big sister and her struggles and myself sifting through emotional baggage and my husband trying to survive it all. That chapter seemed to linger for a long time but then I think about it and it was over and I was absorbed in the next one before I could really take any time to process it; let alone take any time to write about it.

I've been discouraging myself from writing anything, whether it be mundane or a growing, fiery issue I want to expose because I don't feel I ever have the amount of time I would need or the mental capacity to word anything to the point that I would be proud of it.

I don't want to say anything unless I can say exactly what I mean and mean exactly what I say. 

I'm having to just get over that at this point of my life. 

Keeping up with my two girls is all my attention is on. Making sure I don't miss a single moment.

The firsts. When Isla started crawling 

and eating real food

and pulling up to everything.

The moment you see siblings start getting into trouble together.

The quiet moments enjoying the budding summer

(the quiet moments in general)

and the firework finale of summer's end.

  

Hand holding

and foot holding

BaaBaa and Bella's makeup parties

and tea parties.

Bath fun

and pool fun.

Raised eyebrows

giant smiles

and brilliant eyes.

Taking moments to actually do something with her fantastically curly hair (even when it means accidentally giving her Colonial Man hair ((sorry Bella)).

 A moment to squish chubby thighs and cheeks

 (all four of them).

The moment you realize, again, the magnitude of what you're doing. Raising a little person into everything you hope for them. So that they can do the same.

Bella : Isla

I'm working to live in the moments. In the memories and flashbacks.

Bella : Isla

 Because soon it's gone. And most of the time it's gone before we realize it's passed.

Coffee & Guilt

This is now the 4th time I have sat down to attempt to work on this "sigh". Going into the why's is laughable and I have exactly 10 minutes to finish this.
Tonight was the third night I spanked my disrespectful toddler and cried my way out of her room (granted, she was warned the spanking was coming and welcomed it). That was tonight. The rest of this post was written at least a week before with little to no changes in weariness.

This is one of the first drawings Bella ever did about a year ago. I keep it on my desk and when I look at it lately, I feel like it's a pretty good portrait of myself. Wide eyed, stumbling around, pokey lines above my head. A little topheavy. I wonder if she knew she was foreshadowing.

____________________________________________

Ok. This blog, "To parents of small children: Let me be the one who says it out loud" has been shared on my Facebook over and over, over a period of several weeks now. And this must be the hipster in me but when something starts to surface and get shared constantly, I roll my eyes and refuse to click on it. I know. I'm supposedly a grown up.
But when my husband posted it to my wall, that was when I finally clicked the link. And definitely found it deserving of the hundreds of times it appeared on my newsfeed.

He uses the phrase "bone tired" several times and I can't find a better description for this season of my life. This season for me is driven by fumes.

 I get by day to day on coffee and guilt. 

The guilt has so many layers, but usually what's lying at the surface is guilt over not being the mom I had planned to be. I'm stressed, busy, exhausted, dirty. My 3 year old needs my love, engagement and play. And constant conversation. OH MY GOSH SHE NEVER STOPS! I have to take a break and post a conversation we had on grocery day, which is guaranteed my "Mama Needs Wine" day.

"We going to Nana and Papa's?"
Exasperated "No, Bella, we're going to the store. You've already asked me and I've told you that."
"We going after nap?"
"No, Bella. No. Max and Miles are coming over tonight, after nap. We talked about that too."
"They coming over now?"
"Nooo. Tonight."
"After nap?"
"Yes."
"After MY nap?"
"Bella, yes. I need 5 minutes peace."
"They coming for lunch?"
"No dinner. 5 minutes peace, please."
"They coming later?"
"....Bella. Here's some books."
"Mama. We going to the store?" She asks dramatically annoyed because we're sitting in the parking lot.
"5 minutes peace."
My 5 minutes peace was used to write it down.

So, my 3 year old needs a lot. My 5 month old needs held, interaction and breastmilk. (UGH the BREASTFEEDING! The wonder and beauty of it and the gross time suck ((haha, suck))! It's another thing I feel guilty about but I really dislike breastfeeding. If I were a grateful mother I would just love breastfeeding. I feel gross when I breastfeed or pump. This is a giant ramble inside a parenthesis.) My husband needs attention, praise, companionship and, you know, the other thing. My house needs to be cleaned, de-cluttered and actually put together. The cats end up ignored completely.

I end up annoyed by the needing. There, I said it. 

The WORLD has constant needs from me and my own aren't getting met.
And there's the problem.

So, here's what I had to change.
I made a list. What relaxes me and what recharges me. When I'm relaxed I can do the things that recharge me. When I'm recharged, my needs are easier to meet or are already met. Then I can more peacefully function through this world and the season its placed me in. (I feel so cheesy saying that, but for real.)


And in this season I never dreamed I could be this tired. This thin, this easily worn. Today, I don't remember if I pumped or had lunch. I yelled at Bella. Played store. I threw a tantrum alongside a defiant toddler. Averted glances from strangers as they acknowledged my elevated and exasperated tone in the store. (I blame those cussing stupid car carts- they make everything worse.) I gave many hugs and kisses. Took lots of pictures. Snuggled a squirmy Isla while she grasped my shirt and buried her face into my chest (heart melting).

I've said it before and I'll say it again - parenthood is absolutely overwhelming. You sit there in total awe as you watch your littlest do something for the first time in her little life. You sit enveloped in the greatest of love when your daughter asks you if she's your friend and you're heartbroken when you can honestly tell her 'yes'. You break down crying at least once a week, whether you want to or not. For better or worse.

Parenting is the best thing I've ever done. But damnit, I'm exhausted. And those sky scraper standards are tumbling. I'm letting go and falling with the debris.

Homemade Crunchwrap Supreme

I used to love Taco Bell. When I wanted "Mexican" food, that meant I wanted Taco Bell. I know, it's laughable. And I've really only ever ordered two things. First it was always a Grilled Stuft Burrito. Now it's a Crunchwrap Supreme. (I say "now" loosely because I don't remember the last time I went to a Taco Bell. Wait, I just remembered. It was a few months ago. Before that though, it was a long time. Probably, like, another few months.)
That being said, I was super intrigued by this "homemade" version. I kept my expectations low and was, I'm so sorry pardon my pun, Supremely surprised! (I'm really sorry about that.)

The instructions get really confusing to me, so I attempted a picture tutorial to accompany the instructions. 

Recipe and picture from Mary Quite Contrary Bakes

Homemade Crunchwrap Supreme

12 "burrito size" flour tortillas

6 corn tortillas

1 lb ground beef

1 pkg taco seasoning of your choice

 1 jar of taco cheese (found in the same aisle as the Mexican foods/or chips)

(I have NO idea what that means but I couldn't find it and used a jar of Salsa Con Queso instead)

1 container of sour cream

 3-4 tomatoes (depending on size)

1 bag/head of iceberg lettuce

**Please note these quantities and measurements for filling crunch wraps are estimates. You should adjust filling amounts to suit your own taste.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.  Use one corn tortilla to cut a circle of the same size out of 6 of the flour tortillas.  Put the 6 cut out flour tortillas aside.  (Reserve outside of the 6 flour tortillas for making homemade tortilla chips if desired.)  

Sidenote: I didn't do that. I cheated and used a smaller size of packaged flour tortillas. I had to trim some of the medium tortillas so the larger tortilla could wrap around it but I found this to be easier for me than tracing and cutting tortillas.

Place 6 corn tortillas on a baking sheet and bake until crispy (I would recommend starting with 5 minutes and then checking every 2-3 minutes until they are done to your liking).  Put oven to "warm".  

Cook the ground beef with the taco seasoning as directed on packet and set aside (I actually used homemade taco seasoning I got from here).  

Chop tomatoes and lettuce.  

Have a medium size skillet ready on the stove and have a counter surface with all of your ingredients ready to assemble.  

Microwave a full size flour tortilla for about 10 seconds (or until warm) and lay onto counter surface.  

Place some ground beef in the center of the tortilla 

and top with some of the cheese. 

 Lay a corn tortilla on top and press down slightly.  

Top corn tortilla with some sour cream (I did about 1-2 TBSP) 

and some chopped lettuce and tomato.  

Top entire thing with one of the cut out flour tortillas that are the same size as the corn tortilla. 

Fold each side of the larger tortilla up until all the filling is covered, pressing down to somewhat seal it.

First attempted crunchwrap

Second attempt - perfection

Spray the cooking pan lightly with cooking spray and place the crunch wrap into it, seam side down.  

Cook on low-medium, pushing down lightly with a spatula, for 2-3 minutes on each side. 

Place on serving pan in oven to keep warm until ready to eat.  Continue with other ingredients until you have made all the crunch wraps.

 Enjoy! Bella did!