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**There is no purpose to this blog apart from giving myself a mini therapy session. We're moving, my kid is turning five, and she's starting VPK (all in the same week) so I'm a train wreck and the moment I dropped her off I started writing.**
This morning I woke up like I always do, fed Vale the breakfast she always requests (celeray (cereal) with no milk, and medicine (probiotics) with apple juice--it's $13 worth of squeezed apples with no added sugars so don't Mom-shame me, Karen), and got ready for the day. Except, today, for the second time, I dropped her off at Kooz (school). She fell asleep last night talking about her great first day and her awesome teachers (palms on my cheeks with direct eye contact). She woke up basically fully dressed for the day, with the biggest smile on her face. She is a force of nature, this kid, armed with a whole lot of sass and a perfected hip-pop/side-eye for pictures. Tomorrow she will be five years old and I can almost not believe it-- in the sort of way that makes me want to eat a whole box of Entenmann's doughnuts and maybe wind up on an episode of COPS. Any woman with a kid in school knows exactly what I'm talking about.
Here are some funny things Vale has said as a 4-year-old so anyone who doesn't know her can understand why I am so-super-bummed that she's so well adjusted and skips off to school, (away from me):
Vale ate a fortune cookie and it said that she was about to make a new friend. She looked inside her cookie and said, "Mommy, maybe the people is in here!" She was serious.
*Picks up a piece of dog poop.* When I freak out she goes, "Mommy, it's hard as a rock" and rolls her eyes. Apparently, it's only gross if it's mushy poop and the logic does sort or make sense.
Vale tells me: "Mommy, I gonna make a new friend today! Watch, I be brave." She blinks her eyes, nods her head, and charges off onto the playground. This was the same day she ate the fortune cookie (after I explained to her she needed to make friends with humans about her size).
Vale jumped out of the pool at Disney's Fort Wilderness, got into a wide squat position, and started peeing on the deck. When our friends asked what she was doing she said, "Mommy taught me how!" I have no idea how my telling her not to make a big deal about peeing in the pool translated to that.
We went for a walk around the lake by our house and we saw just about every animal in Florida: birds, ducks, chipmunks (or something like it), squirrels (who cares), turtles, bunnies, and one possibly rabid opossum. I commented on how many animals there were and how beautiful it was and Vale asks, "Well, where's their Disney Princess?" She proceeded to start looking under rocks.
I asked Vale if she would sing for me when the Frozen song came on and she said, with a completely serious face, "Mommy, Let It Go."
Vale told a little girl that she must LOVE food because she has a big belly like Papa and he loves food. "That's okay you love it so much. I love things that much too!" She said, without a single shred of malice, as she patted the other child's tummy. We had a very long talk that day.
"Mommy, you have a bagina," she said. Not a question. I told her she was correct and braced myself for the next terrifying thing to come out of her mouth. "What do Kiss (Chris) have? Is it a bagina with a flower on top like Casen?" This question came after we spent a week in Pennsylvania visiting cousin and now I have to explain the difference between female and male genitalia to a four-year-old. Awesome.
"Mommy, when I get changed can God see my butt?" was a question Vale asked me while I was trying to go to the bathroom one morning.
Vale loves Fancy Nancy books, and in the books there is usually an above-level word and Nancy will say, "That's fancy for __" to describe what the word means. I was having an adult conversation and used the word "deceased" and Vale chimes in with, "That's fancy for deeeaaad" in the world's creepiest voice.
I was brushing Vale's hair one morning and she says, "My hair getting so long like Rapunzel. Mommy, how I going to poop when my hair so long, down to my butt?" And that's a very good question that I don't have an answer for.
So I'm sitting in this house that we're about to leave with all of our things packed up around me. My kid is off living her best life, saying hilarious crap to other people who probably won't write it down, and totally doesn't need me anymore. I am living by the mantra, "No wine before 9 (am)" hoping that is enough for right now. I feel sentimental, excited, and maybe a little sad. Chris raised his babies in this home, and you can feel how special it is the moment you walk in. They welcomed Vale and I here with open arms three summers ago and gave us stability and comfort in a time when we needed it most. This home represents something that is difficult for me to put into words, but that is felt powerfully every day. That fact is especially true this week, while I send my kid off to her first year of school and celebrate another of her birthdays.
Chris' kids went to their mama's house last night and it dawned on me, after I put Vale to bed and the house became eerily quiet, that they are what makes this house so special, and what gives every inch of this place a story. Without these five fools, putting on performances by the fireplace, or cannon-balling into the pool, it's just a house. We could probably live in a tent and be blissfully happy.
Chris and I sat in bed, ate sushi, and talked about each one of our five babies and their unique personalities (mostly making fun of them, as good parents do). We talked about how much they all love each other, and how lucky we were. Then I forced Chris to watch 50 videos of Valen as a baby. We talked about our parents, how much we love them, and how special our childhoods' were. We talked about how much I miss my mama, and how badly I've been wanting to be able to just pick up a phone and call her. We did a little crying (his was the manly kind, not wimpy at all) and a lot of laughing, and sort of said goodbye to this home in our own way.
These kids are growing up so fast, and there just aren't enough chocolate benders to help me cope. I'm blessed to have such a good Bud by my side, who feels things as deeply as I do. I'm so thankful that I am raising a little lady who is excited by the world, and not afraid. I foresee a lot of closet-crying for me while she blazes new trails and kicks a whole lot of Earth ass, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
Happy 5th Birthday, Bunny. Goodbye, sweet home. Hello, brave new world.
xoxo,
Alyssa, who's doing JUST FINE.
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