Sunrise, Sunset

Harper got her final lab results back, and the results are that she's apparently won the staph lottery, and that her two boils in 6 weeks were just sheer dumb luck, and not MRSA, which is somehow really good news.

But do you know what happened today? Well, I mean aside from us all being in the car and Harper sagely yelling, apropos of nothing, "Everyone has nipples!"?

I got a pop-up on my Outlook. (I use a PC. Don't be a hater.) And my pop-up was kindly reminding me of Aaron's first day of KINDERGARTEN, on TUESDAY, which I am clearly not prepared for. I mean, he has all of the gear. It's stuff that can be bought at Target- of course he's prepared in that sense. But I don't understand how this little monkey that I'm still getting used to is ready to go out and start the world kind of on his own. I feel a little Tevye, and can't believe this is the little boy at play. I didn't really comprehend how quickly all of this was going to happen after I gave birth. I feel like I never even mastered infant carseats; how can we be on to teacher assignments and school bus schedules? This is all going by entirely too fast and I can't keep up.

I am willing to admit that part of me is very, very ready for him to start school. He and Harper are like gasoline and a match together, and I'm looking forward to some one on one time with the little diva. I mean, Aaron and I had three exclusive years together, and I haven't ever had that with her. Similarly, I haven't had any alone time with Aaron since Harper's been born. But since she's in daycare a few days a week, that means once he gets off the bus on those days, he's all mine, without any sibling rivalry to contend with. (And I'm not even going to mention the huge cut in our daycare bill, which has, for the past couple of years, been significantly larger than our mortgage.)

But another part of me realizes that this is it- this is the start of the greased slide that is childhood. I've listened to other parents- I know it just goes faster and faster, and while I can't see that at all when I'm in the thick of it, I recognize how quickly these 5 1/2 years have gone, and know I'm rapidly closing in on him not being my baby anymore. Right now he gives hugs with gusto and abandon, kisses us on the mouth, and does everything he can to be close to us and emulate Daddy. Just this past week he decided he wasn't going to sleep with a shirt on anymore, because Daddy doesn't. I tried to remind him that Daddy also eats broccoli and chews with his lips together, but Aaron's picking and choosing which parts of Jason he's going to try on for size, and broccoli doesn't seem high on the list. He's really divine. You can see him have his internal struggles with how to behave, and he clearly knows right from wrong, and the clincher is that the behavior that makes me most insane is when he's obviously imitating...me. He's a mouthy kid, but he came by that honestly.

I was talking with Jason's mom (Hi, Sharon!) a couple of weeks ago about digital cameras. She recently switched from film to digital, and part of her was a little disconcerted at the idea. I was trying to sell her on it because of the immediate feedback- you take a picture, you know what worked and what didn't, and you can readjust. And the hardest part of this parenting thing is that I have no idea of what the result will be. I don't know if my parenting will turn him into a serial killer or a sweet, kind person. There is no adjusting for poor exposure. There is no immediate feedback on whether your shot is accurate and clear, or if you've gotten everything horribly out of focus and framed everything entirely wrong. Getting the film back on this will take years- decades! At that point the film's been taken, and there's no going back, so I really hope I'm doing this right, because I'm completely winging it. But for one last day, he's still my little baby.


Aaron, 4 mos.