Y2K

Y2K.  It's the Year of 2nd grade and Kindergarten. 

From the day a child arrives, parents hear how fast the time flies.  That's not always because you're having so much fun, by the way!  There have been moments I wish time had flown by -- the sessions of bewildering crying jags, changing the smelliest diapers known to mankind, the mysterious food aversions, tantrums, and as they get older there is bickering, sullenness, backtalk -- in general:  'Tude!   

Aside from those frustrating and unavoidable experiences, however, there are the moments I wish I could freeze for eternity:  Regular morning cuddles on the couch, arms wrapped around my legs giving the tightest, squeeziest hugs, reciprocal "I love yous," seeing my kids understand a new idea, say some very grown-up phrase or make a mature observation... Those are the times I realize how quickly my children are growing up.

Benjamin will begin 2nd grade tomorrow and Elizabeth will be in Kindergarten.  She is eager; he is not.  She loves to learn; he would rather play.  She wants to please; he would rather be pleased.  She can be bold and adventurous; he is more unsure and hesitant.  Two very different temperaments; two very precious little people.  

Kindergarten for Elizabeth is familiar ground for this mom since Ben has already been there; I have some idea of what to expect.  Second grade will be a whole new deal, though, and I find myself anxious for my little man.  The jump from First to Second grade seems so big.  Will every successive year be like this?! 


I want both my children to shine, to find their "zone" where they can flourish, an environment where they can discover their niche and be excited about what they're learning, experiencing, seeing, hearing, touching.  I want RICH opportunities that will help them grow into even more awesome individuals.  I want to be involved, to be alongside them to capture their awe and wonder, their sense of accomplishment, to be on-hand so I can praise them for a job well-done... 


I tease Ben and Elizabeth sometimes about how they should stop growing, but really, it's one of life's grandest gifts.  They are my life's grandest gifts.  I treasure and adore them and only hope their Y2K will be a grand gift for them.

Heart Aches

When a mother sees her child ache, her heart aches, too.  

My son LOVES playtime with friends.  Daily, and sometimes repeatedly within a day, he asks to play with a friend.  While I usually don't mind having friends play at our house, what I DO mind is the fact that Ben is rarely invited to anyone else's house to play. 

I have a 3-call limit; if, after contacting 3 friends, there are no takers to our invitation, I'm done.  It happens A LOT.  I witness my son go from hopeful to tears on some days.  "He's playing at so-and-so's house."  "He's hanging out with so-and-so."  "He's too tired."  "He's playing with family - sorry."  "She has other plans."  There is one friend - one - who would probably have Ben over to play every day if she could.  Other than this one little girl, I can't even remember the last time someone (a parent) called to invite Benjamin over to play.  It never happens. 

It concerns me.  I know my son is not perfect but do other kids not like my son?  Does he not play well with others?  Why isn't he invited over?  I don't know how to inquire without putting parents on the spot.  I don't know how to ask without sounding like some overprotective worry-wart mom.  Besides, is any mom really going to be honest with me and say if Ben is disliked?

But the truth is, I worry for Ben.   With confessed and absolute bias, Benjamin Levi is my most beloved little man.  He is sweet and can be terribly sensitive.  Of course, I want him to be well-liked and accepted.  No mother wants to think her child is otherwise.

So, what's a mom to do?  When he asked me to tickle him, I did.  When he suggested we play jacks, I said Yes.  This is what I need to do - be there for my little guy.  When he feels a void, it's my job, my privilege, my joy to fill it.  And then we are both filled. 

And the heartaches subside.