Hair Cuts

Dear Hazelita, 
It was time.  School was starting. Kindergarten.  Your long hair, though beautiful and your favorite toy to flip around to express yourself was easily a tangled snarl of sticky food crusted vines, on a good day.  Washing, conditioning and combing was a task of will and yelling... so about 6 inches or more, had to go.  I was sad to depart with what was essentially your baby hairs you entered into the world with, soft and delicate.  You are no longer a soft and delicate baby though and a big girl cut was the plan.  

We went to Parlor Royale.  You love the fancy shop and all the women there with unique do's of every color.  You sat up in the big chair and shewed me away as I tired to take photos of the important moment.  You had chit chat to do.  

You were excited as she swung the chair around and the mirror revealed a swingy below the shoulder hair cut. Still long, but shorter, manageable and super cool.  

You shouted out with the upmost glee, "I love it!" and you obliged the stylist with a picture or two as you spent the next 5 minutes flipping it around.  I think it looks fresh and full of life, and other than pictures to the contrary you hardly notice it isn't down to your butt. 

Sweet sharing these style mile stones with you, the next step was to bleach out part of it and make it vibrant red.  Those photos to come. 
I love you, 

Mama

First In, First Out

Dear Hazittle, 
Finally!  About three weeks ago you discovered you had a lil wiggler down in front.  Not being keen on putting a finger in your mouth and wiggling it, fear keeping you from allowing me to check it out during the day, we had to designated 5 wiggles three times a day to keep tabs on that lil dangler.  So, three weeks...that sucker was nearly sticking straight forward and in the end it was the all encompassing Hoosier desire for buttery sweet corn in the month of July that swayed you to rip it out on your own.  Sitting at the lunch table you begged for me to cut the corn off the cob, seeing an opportunity, I said to just get that tooth out already.  I asked if you'd like me to help.  You screamed, "NO!"  I gave you a napkin and you grabbed at it, whining that you were scared.  We told you to do what you wanted, but if you closed your eyes and grabbed it you would have it out in no time.  We acted as if we were ignoring you for a minute to give you space.  The three of us watched from the corner of our eyes...  You took a deep breath, squinched your eyes up all tight and secure and took that napkin and pulled, pulled and pulled.  BAM! You declared, "I GOT IT! It is out!"  You were very excited! but had a sort of mixed expression of freak out and happiness.  To cheer or to cry.  

The celebratory ice cream cone settled you into cheering!  We all cheered for you.  You ran to get your tooth pillow Aunt Linda made you.  The next morning La Toothy Dienta, your tooth fairy, left you two dollars and a nice note commending you on your bravery.  

You were particularly excited that she left the letter covered in fairy dust, which I caught you later picking off and sprinkling over your head in some sort of ritual spell you would not tell me of the details.  Exiting times ahead as #2 is not far behind.  You make everything so sweet and special.  What a way to get ready to start school.
Love, Mama

Third then Fourth

Dear Hen, 

Your last day of 3rd grade. WHAT!!! This really did happen super fast. People say that, the kids grow up super fast.  You really do.  You're 9 now and grew 6 inches since last summer and now wear my tennis shoes.  This was a year where you matured a lot and gained many levels of self confidence.  You got through testing, which you take very seriously, with a pass and pass plus.  You felt really great about that.  We were really proud of how much work it was for you yet you still excelled.  It is hard for you to do writing projects without a constant sounding board.  You worked very hard on finding ways to do this in class.  Mommy and daddy and your teachers were very proud of you.  We love that you and Hazel will be together next year.  It is such an exciting time in our family to have you both in school learning and growing to become your best selves.  I love how as we put another version of you in our pile of memories a new one emerges with the vestiges of the last, 

funny, goofy, inquiring, struggling, trying new things and appreciating your friendships.

I really enjoyed your outdoor end of the year program.  You were full of anticipation and you drilled into me many times how much you wanted us there.  It was beautiful day and I wasn't the only wet cheeked parent there after you sang I Lava You.  

(Or Hazel likes to say, Balava).  It chokes me up every time!  You were excited when you finally caught my eye before you began singing.  I couldn't miss you.  You had a carefully planned outfit for the performance.  See picture below.

 "I have a dream

I hope it will come true

That you're here with me

And I am here with you

I wish that the earth, sea, and the sky up above

Will send me someone to lava"

My hope was answered.
I lava you, 
Mama

New Starts

Dear Peach, 

It is happening.  The day I thought would never get here, the day that I didn't want to get here, the day I couldn't wait to get here all rolled into one.  You are enrolled at TPS, with your big brother next year!!! He will be in 4th grade and you will be in kindergarten.  We went to your orientation after two false starts, due to me getting the date wrong and the other a power failure at the school and they had to move the date.  You could barely contain yourself with disappointment at the cancellation conversely a week later with elation to attend the orientation. You picked a special dress, you did your hair and you worked to get out of the house early.  We entered the building and our fearless, intelligent and kind principal and you shrieked at each other with joy and gave big hugs, with all standers-by welcoming that, "Hazel is finally going to be here!!"  The teachers and students already know you by name, of course. Your goal for the orientation was to make some friends and two 1st grade guides stuck to you like glue...but your brother felt he wanted to show you around and guided you to the art and music room through the cafeteria and where you could go to the bathroom if you had to go while at school.  You had a great 7 months where you attended a lovely short half day kindergarten, and you were so tired at the end of the day.  I hope your excitement and enthusiasm carry you through the long day of school, friends, play and learning.  I know this is all going to be an adjustment.  Our entire schedule will be different, and mommy's life is going to change.  I have already been doing more photos for people and volunteering at the school with the middle level (and I was so impressed and need to be a part of that).  I am sad that my official stay at home mom days are over. I am guessing the first year your breaks from class, when the two of you are all mine, all day, are going to be little glistening jewels among the growing pains.  

   After your orientation we celebrated via a Chocolate Moose tradition, a dipped torch cone with eyeballs. It is official. I have two kids in school.  A boy. A girl.  They are super different from each other.  Super funny.  Super smart.  You are going to add a lot to the school my little sweetie, and they are going to add a lot to you. For that I am grateful. I will think of these days of just the two of us with lots of time to snuggle, over and over.  I asked you last night if you will still hold my hand after you start school. Sitting on my lab snuggled close, you pulled back and earnestly looked into my eyes. In your gentle caring manner you said, "Mama, I am getting bigger and I may not hold your hand anymore but I will still probably love you." (Two weeks before Henry entered Kindergarten he promised he would always hold my hand...it wasn't a two days into his first week and the promised changed.)  These changes are coming...and the girl who told me a month ago that she was worried that we wouldn't have enough cuddle time in the day so we would likely have to cuddle me as soon as she got home is going to shed and discard into my piles of Hazel's in all over her appearances.  Your constants are beautiful.  Caring, kind, loving, snugly, hilarious, a fantastical imagination and a gift of the gab, but as you said, you are growing up.  The spaces where I fit will fill in with other wonderful things.
Love, Mama 

   

Arm in Two

Dear Peach,

Each night we take you to your room and you settle comfortably in your bed snoozing, and we leave you to your rest.  By 3am you're creeping into our room each night because you need snuggles and Mama and Daddy.   We welcome you in, you need us, we are there for you and your poking arms, pushing legs and whines for, "more water, Mama!"  We are there for you when you twist and turn upside down in bed wedging your stinky feet under my nose.  This particular night, the 21st, you fell out of bed, you have before, but before carpet greeted you, not uncompromising solid bamboo floors. At the thud we shot up in bed and did the regular pull of the lamp cord, the customary once over to make sure you're fiiii....uh, no...you are most certainly not fine. Your arm looks like a noodle.  I told Daddy that we need to go to the hospital, your arm is without a doubt broken. He was trying to see but the situation with your noodle arm was intense and I had to get you moving. I woke up poor Henry, who was in the deepest sleep I've ever seen him in, with screams to get in bed with Daddy. You weren't crying, you just breathed through it and said you felt a little afraid.  I got my coat and wrapped the blue cheetah print scarf Heather gave me from France around your shoulders and your wilted arm to secure it. 

I kissed your dad and we were out the door. Just before sliding back the van door you whimpered to me, "I'm gonna try to be brabe, mama."  I told you, "No worries, baby girl. Brave looks like a lot of different things and if crying makes you feel better right now you can do it."  "OK, mama, I lub you."  The ride there you were starting to talk about how scared you were, how you needed your arm and just wanted it back again.  I explained what would happen when we got to the hospital and started singing a song to you.  "You are my sunshine..." and the sweetest little weak voice joined from the back.
Leaving a couple of red lights behind and deserted early morning streets, we arrive to the ER and I can feel your body tensing backward while each step goes forward, increasing the tension until you break a little squeak about how you need your arm and you don't want it cut off.  Getting to your eye level I stopped in the parking lot to tell you that in fact you would keep your arm and the doctor would fix it you breathed in between clinched teeth and said ok freely entered the slow ER.  We got in immediately and with glazed eyes you'd occasionally hold out your arm to the nurses or doctor like, "can you believe it?!"  X-ray come in and you had broken both your radius and ulna near the wrist.  The doctor would have to give you a sedative so they could pull your bones back into place and then manipulate them as close to normal position as possible.  They left and a tech came to take more information.  As he was collecting your name, address and size I looked over at you to find your color had changed to a weird green pale, lips were white and you started in a panic that your tummy felt very funny and very hot.  Shock had taken you and you stopped responding to me, your pulse and blood pressure had dropped and I called in a nurse quickly.  You were passed out and we set your head back and you came back around.  They started an IV that any big person would struggle with the 5 minutes of digging the needle into your tiny arm.  You fade out with eyes rolling about.  You overheard the staff say that to come home you would have to wake up first so they could make sure you didn't get sick.  This caused you to struggle against the sedative. 

Your eyes would pop own wide and wild and you'd smile a weird rubbery smile and say, "I'm awake!"  Then you'd drift off again.  (Days later when you recounted the sleepy medicine you said, "You know when they gave me that sleepy medicine at the hospital?  Well you were like an alien and the doctors were like aliens.  You had eyes all over your face, here, and here and here and here and your mouth was big and your teeth were like all over here, BUT when I heard you talking to me and singing to me and felt you holding my hand I knew it was my mama so I didn't get scare."  MELT.) I held your warm little hand and rubbed your fingers.  I said, "Don't worry babe, you'll be just fine in a minute."  You don't like me to call you babe.  Every time I say it to your quick response follows, "Don't call me babe, that is what you call Daddy.  Call me sweetie or peach."  No sedative kept that from happening. Finally, they fit you with a splint and we got to return home about 5:30AM.  You fell right to sleep snuggled next to Daddy. 

Then, the next morning, we all went to the hospital with you to get your cast done.  The tech kept asking what color you wanted for your cast.  Her suggestions of solely pink and purple put you off and you looked her with narrowed eyes and said in a drawn out tempo, "BLACKKKK... I want black."  The tech made sure by saying, "Don't you want something prettier?" "NO! Black!"  Henry was such a big support to you. He cuddled you in the hospital bed and tried to be super nice to you.  He was sure worried about his Hazey.

You wore the black cast for two weeks and today we found out one bone slipped further out of place.  You had to get the black cast cut off, and though the sound was loud and you got sweaty and nervous you did great.  This time, of your own accord you chose PURPLE. 

You are one tough and brave kid, and you can do anything you put your mind to.  I am super proud of you.  It looks like another 5 weeks of an elbow cast and then a shorter cast.  Poor thing is a little unhappy you won't get to use the hot tub at Grandma P's and Bahboo's this weekend.  I just want you to heal well with a powerful arm.  I love you sweet pea.  
Love, Mama   

School Days, Drool Days

Dear Hazelita, 
Big days have passed in your life and I was buried under a ton of photography jobs and have neglected our blog, which is a theme of all the most recent, not truly so recent posts.  Part of the photography I have been doing was at a sweet little nursery school, pre school and kindergarten extravaganza place I have done for 3 years now.  Each year the amazing director has encouraged me to enroll you, and finally a day came when I had a couple of loose ends to tie up at the school and you came with me.  You were quickly embraced by the kids in the play yard.  I started chatting with the kindergarten teachers.  You played and giggled and played.  When the kids were called to snack you were hanging in the playhouse and a buddy came and invited you to come for snack, too.  You joined their table.  You declared, "I'm 5!" Which received a chorus of, "Hey! I'm 5!"  "Me, too!" "I was 5 in August!"  As we were leaving, the director stopped me, she had been seeing you in the play yard.  All it took was a side head tilt and a, "Lisa!" and I was making the plans to have you start school November 1st.  You did start school.  Full of nervous vibrations, sturdier by your relentless self confidence, your hugs goodbye were brief.  You have attended about 2.5 weeks and are in love. 

In love with signing in, saying hello to Ms. Robin the lady who floats around playing her harp, with the girls, with the boys, with bringing home crafts you made, with daddy coming in the talk about his wheelchair, with speedy steps to embrace me when I arrive for pick up.  I love that I only am giving up 3 hours with you each day.  Next year's full day is going to be tough for you, but I know you'll make it after having such a lovely introduction to school. 

You need extra cuddles and are exhausted, yelling at me far more than you ever have, begging for home and snugglin' the instant we get in the car.  It is bitter sweet times for me.  I knew all the little buds in your class so I knew you would be in great partnerships at school, but next year is ALL day.  I think I already mentioned that.  I am searching for my next thing to do, right now photography seems to be there for me each time I want to take it.  But, my days without cuddles are going to be colder, a little more lonely with more anticipation of picking up both my kiddos in the afternoon, perked to hear the day's happenings.  I am so proud of you. 
Love, Mama