"It's such a joyful time, isn't it?"Those were Tim's exact words to me over the phone this evening, listening to me recount the ups and downs of our evening. Have you ever had one of those days where everything is just a little off-kilter? Mealtime doesn't happen at quite the right time, naps are skewed . . . Joshua doesn't take one most days, and Jonah is in that strange land of inbetween. He no longer needs two naps, but one just doesn't quite cut it. Where is the middle ground in that situation? We're not sure yet.
So our day was off-kilter. Jonah's one and only nap started when he fell asleep in the car around 11:30 this morning, and he woke about an hour after that. We ended up not eating lunch until almost 1:00, and both boys were ready for dinner by 4:30. I felt a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, where everything is somewhat peculiar, and doesn't quite make sense like you'd like for it to. We had biscuits for dinner, which we never do, but the boys like them so much . . . with the butter dripping down their arms, and the strawberry jelly oozing out, plopping down onto the table, and their clothes, and the floor. Jonah looked at me and asked, "Own-ee?" because he really wanted honey for his biscuits. It's so hard to tell him no to anything, but we're on honey rationing for the next week or so (in order to be able to take peanut butter and honey sandwiches to school).
Come to think of it, our conversations are a little Alice in Wonderland-ish lately too.
"Reech, reech, wat-ee, wash," (Wat-ee, of course is water. What, you didn't get that?)
"He wants to wash his hands, mama! Don't call me Joshua, I'm WORDGIRL."
"Tim, does Jonah need his hands washed? Yes, wordgirl, I hear you, and no you may not have your lightsaber back right now."
"But mama, I'm WORDGIRL and I need my light-saver to kill the bad guys. Mama, mama, mama, you be the Riddler and I'll be Spiderman!"
Jonah points the lightsaber at me, "P-shoo."
My head spins from the sheer amount of words being said at any given time in one room. Many of Jonah's words, of course, are still unintelligible. Which makes him try that much harder to be understood. Many end in "ee" . . . there's "op-ee" for open, of course the "wat-ee" that I've already mentioned. "Do-ee" is door. Are you sensing a pattern? Don't get too comfortable, because just as you think you've got it down he'll ask for Di-buh.Play-do.
And yes, the kids are going to school. Two days a week. It's called First Learning, and it's the preschool at our church. I have definite mixed feelings about this . . . on one hand it's so good for both of them to be stretched, and challenged in so many ways. Socially, emotionally and intellectually they are really having to adapt and conform at so many levels. The hardest part for me is that I don't get to know everything that goes on throughout the day. Every sparkle of their eyes is there for somebody else to see. Every laugh or new thought. Sadness at not being included, fright at something new and unknown. I worry, as is my way, that the wonder of my children is going unseen because of the busy-ness of the day. Does Jonah laugh for his teachers like he laughs for me? And if he does, do they really see him? Do Joshua's eyes twinkle at an idea he's just had there at school? Will he be able to explore his ideas, and stretch his imaginiation to new lengths, or will he be squashed because it's not time for imagining, instead he has to stand in line to go to the bathroom?
And yet I do get to be there a little. I'm also teaching this year, in the "Kid Fit" position. It's like gym class for 3 year olds . . . so I get to have Joshua in my class for 20 minutes. I have to physically restrain myself from holding his face in my hands and looking into his eyes, searching him to see what's been going on that I've been missing. From kissing his head and holding him tight. Because, you know, he's around his friends, and that just wouldn't do.
But I don't think I'm ready yet to give my kids to somebody else. Somebody who would miss the gleaming smiles, or the mischevious side-glances. Somebody who won't know that Jonah is asking for a drink when he says, "Ngk, ngk, ngk." Somebody who has more kids in class than time in the day, and won't let Joshua be WordGirl. Yes, this First Learning experience is good for us all, and someday I will have to let go. But not quite yet, okay? Because these really are joyful times.
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