A New 'Do

So I have to admit, I'm surprised this is the first experience we've had with self-administered haircuts in the Cairns home. We made it through those unstable and explosive toddler years without a single split hair. But now, at age 5, Olivia took it upon herself to trim. Not a lot, not anything super obvious, but enough.

Yesterday Olivia announced that she had a new game for us to play, pin the horn on the unicorn. She asked for paper, scissors, tape and a pen and headed upstairs to do some serious craftin'. She came down a short while later with a tiny unicorn head, a "corn" to pin on this head, and an Olivia-sized eye mask she had cut out herself. Apparently she left all the supplies upstairs, including my scissors. Guess they were just too tempting...

As I threw scraps of paper from the game away tonight, I see a fairly large organized clump of hair in her trash can. I say organized because it wasn't just a few random hairs. This was an obviously cut chunk of hair - hair that was held together during the cutting and then disposed of.

"Olivia, what is all this hair in your trash can?"
"I don't know."
"Whose hair is this?"
"I DON'T KNOW!" (yelling at me, like I'm at fault somehow)
"Olivia, I need you to tell me the truth...did you cut your hair?"
"NO!!"
"Olivia?"
"It was an accident!"

Of course, the fact that a large section of hair is missing right next to her face shows her guilt. She starts crying, repeating that it was an accident. As I question her further, she gets more upset. She throws herself into bed and pulls the covers over her head, trying to hide the evidence. I tell her to relax and I'll come back when she's ready to talk. (Of course I grab the scissors as I leave.) So when I come back, we have a talk about what happened. She admits she didn't want to tell me what happened because she thought I'd be mad. I explain that I wasn't mad she cut her hair, but I got upset that she lied about it. I mean, really, how did she think she'd get away with that? An accident? But what made her decide to cut it? She knows how scissors work and that you can't tape hair back on your head. Was it just one of those things she had to try? The urge was just too great I suppose.

And to be honest, the hair isn't really all that bad. It could have been so much worse. I gave her a hug and told her I still love her bunches, even if her hair looks silly.

1st Day of 1st Grade

You think I'd know by know to expect that completely calm reply when I ask "are you ready?" Will there ever be a time Meredith gets nervous or anxious for something? Today is the first day of school. REAL school. All-day school. With lunch! True, it is only until 12:30 today, but still. So yesterday we did all the necessary prep work for today. We picked out an outfit, took a shower to make sure her hair looks nice, packed a lunch and went to bed early. Now, I have memories of lying in bed the night before the first day of school, and they aren't pleasant memories. I always had trouble sleeping and my nervous stomach sure didn't help. I was ready with the pep talk, but it was not necessary. I tucked Meredith in and asked if she was excited. "Yep!" Are you nervous at all? "Um, no. Just excited!" Perfect.

This morning at 6:40 she walked in to my room, a giant smile on her face. She gave me an extra tight hug and we talked for a bit. She wanted to know how much longer today would be than last year. She wanted to know what they would do first today. She asked about the pick-up procedure. But she took each answer in stride, just nodding. Then she was off to watch cartoons.

We took a few super-smiley pictures...

...and we were off. We found some friends outside. That's Jackson on the left and Garrett on the right.

We decided to walk Meredith to her classroom, just to make sure she was settled.

This was the first time I saw her smile fade a little, but only because she was so focused on what she was supposed to be doing and where she needed to be.

She got her backpack and lunchbox hung on her hook and headed to her spot. Ms. Henley gave her a big welcome and it was our time to leave.

I have such a hard time with the leaving part...like the minute I'm out the door she'll need something. But I know better, she'll be fine. We peeked in the window as we were leaving, trying to wave one last time (in true Horine fashion), but she didn't notice. She was too busy saying 'hi' to friends and doing some serious coloring. She's got a big day ahead...and she was ready.

...and so it ends.

Could it really be true? An entire school year is over already? Weren't we just walking in for the first day of school? Wasn't Meredith just a little 5-year-old with a mouth full of baby teeth ready to start "real school?" Look at us now, nine short months later. She's a graduate!

What a year. I mean, really. As much as I anticipated this year and all that would happen, I don't think I could have hoped for anything better. She had an amazing teacher who loved her and whom she loved. She had a class full of wonderful kids who (for the most part) all have wonderful parents. She lost 4 teeth, cut 11 inches off her hair, grew a dozen (give or take) inches, found her future husband (Jackson), learned to read, held a mouse, became a Daisy Scout, joined a T-ball team, ate lunch in the school cafeteria (but there wasn't any singing or choreography, a la High School Musical), took the obligatory field trip to Kaleidoscope, oh - and got to ride a school bus, ate green eggs (and ham), made some amazing masterpieces in art class, learned to play the xylophone (whatever that means, really), hibernated and migrated, made all kinds of treasures at the Creation Station, learned all the days and months and on and on and on.

It is a little bittersweet, really. I'm so sad to see the year go. Sad to think that our great little group of kids will possibly be split up and she won't have her bestest friends and her future husband in her classroom every day. Sad to know that she'll be in school 4 extra hours next year. Sad to know that this is just the beginning...this IS real school. Sad to see just how big she's getting. Though that leads me to the happy side. She is an even more amazing kid than she was just nine months ago. She has learned so much, and taught us even more. She can make friends without even blinking. She took this year head on and came out on top. (I knew she would.)

So here's to Meredith, aka Cindersmella. My first-grader! I'm as proud as could be and I can't wait to see what happens next. Thanks for letting us share the ride...

That chair stepped on my toe.

That's what I heard Olivia saying through her tears. She's walking out of the playroom just hysterical. "That chair stepped on my toe and it huuuuuurt." After she calms down I asked her which toe got hurt, you know, just in case it needs a get-better kiss. She says "the one that looks like my thumb."

Fresh Eyes

On Friday after school, Olivia climbed into the car and started her usual commentary about what she had learned / played with / snacked on at school. After hearing all about the rainbow-colored goldfish snack she started telling me that they learned all about how sometimes people have different skin. I waited, wanting to see what was coming next. She told me how her skin was different from everyone in her class, "even Miss Susan's!" She told me that doesn't matter, we're all just people on the inside. I was impressed. Then she says, "Dr. Martin Lou the King taught us that. He's the King you know." Aha, lesson learned.

Yesterday we had a conversation about today's significance: the inauguration. Meredith seemed to understand how important it was, I'm guessing partly because of how involved she was in the election. She told me that "it is the day Rock Obama turns into the President." Like there's a flash of lightning and puff of smoke...tada!

So as I sit here listening to the inauguration coverage, I am grateful that my girls have a chance to see things with their fresh, unbiased eyes. And I'm hopeful for our new president, Rock Obama.

The 2nd Greatest Holiday

I'm learning that Halloween isn't to be taken lightly when you've got children. I was informed (by Meredith) that on October 1st it was okay to put our Halloween decorations out. Seems a bit early if you ask me. But rather than field daily inquiries as to when the decorations would be out, I caved. So we are sooooo ready for Halloween. We've been to the pumpkin patch (twice), our house is spookified, we've got costumes picked out, and the kids are already planning for a night of heavy trick-or-treating. Meredith told me that her bag last year got too heavy for her so maybe she should have two bags, that way Daddy can carry the first load after it gets full. That's when I realized just how great this holiday is in the mind of a 6 year old.

Look at it this way...

Christmas: Decorations are in stores way early to allow for adequate anticipation - in fact, they're available just after the Halloween stuff is moved to the clearance aisles.

Halloween: Decorations and costumes are available just after back-to-school stuff is taken off the shelves.

Christmas: Lots of time spent visiting family and friends.

Halloween: Ditto, just much, much shorter visits. And with the added bonus of wearing dress-up clothes.

Christmas: Delicious desserts, candy canes, holiday cookies.

Halloween: Candy for months. Literally.

Christmas: Santa visits and brings lots of presents.

Halloween: Um, candy. For months. AND you get new dress-up clothes.

So Happy (early) Halloween! Look for pictures of a cheetah and ballerina very soon...

Olivia Goes to Preschool

Shhhh...do you hear that? It's the sound of no children in my house. Today is Olivia's first day of preschool. I just got home a few minutes ago from the surprisingly easy drop-off. I was fully prepared for a struggle, hoping it wouldn't compare to the waterworks of last year. (A quick refresher: Olivia was enrolled in Children's Day Out for 3 weeks. 3 weeks was how long it took for her to revisit her separation anxiety - last seen when she was 8 months old, create an air of anxiety in her classroom full of already-anxious children, and frustrate the preschool's entire teaching staff to the fullest extent. I mean, 3 hours of continuous crying would try a saint's patience. That may seem harsh, but hey, you weren't there.)

I think we were fortunate that Meredith started a few weeks ago. Olivia got to see the routine, see how much fun Meredith was having, and realize how much she missed playing with someone while Meredith was at school. And this year we didn't hype the whole school idea too much, hoping we wouldn't create any anxiety. But we did go last night and pick out a new dress - a purple dress, of course - and some new shoes.

So back to today. After a breakfast of her all-time favorite Eggo waffles, we headed out the door. She was ready - no stalling, no whining. Just an occasional "NOW can we go?"

After dropping Meredith off, we headed to preschool. We were really early, which I think worked to our advantage. It helped, too, that her buddy Colby was there to explore with her. (That's the two of them, walking into school together.)

The school was quiet and Olivia got to explore her classroom and check out all the toys (the dollhouse was the clear favorite)

and poke a finger in Baxter's cage (the rabbit from Meredith's class last year, who Olivia says "sure got bigger!").

As I'm talking to her teacher, Miss Susan, I hear Olivia say "excuse me Miss Susan." Not a bad first impression to make (I'm secretly hoping Susan was one of the few teachers who didn't hear the crying coming from Olivia's classroom last year and that none of the other teachers warned her about her hysterics). Susan says "Yes?" and Olivia proceeds to soooo sweetly ask "Can I please play with the dollhouse?" Awwwwww.

We said our goodbyes and I made sure she understood we were leaving but that we'd be back soon. She sorta acknowledged me, in between her comments about the dollhouse's twin babies and mommy with the gold hair and the baby swing hanging in the house's corner and its secret compartment under the stairs.

Here's hoping that in a couple of hours, when we pick her up after her first day, we hear about how much fun she had. And that when she comes out of her classroom we don't see tear streaks on her cheeks and a crusty nose. Maybe then I'll be able to enjoy the deafening silence of my empty house...

+++++ UPDATE +++++

So...phew! She loved it. She says she had so much fun and is excited to go back. What a HUGE relief. My only concern is that when we picked her up we walked inside to get her (instead of driving up like we will in the future) and she said "I thought you left, but you didn't leave!" Hmmm. Well, at least she had was alright thinking we'd left.

She had great stories to share too. She told us how they all went potty at the same time and there were two "terlets" - one for grown-ups and one for big girls (the smaller stool). She talked about looking in a magnifying glass at books, sitting in a circle "but not a whole circle, a rainbow circle", singing songs about a bee, taking a rest on square carpets that had bumps, playing with the baby dolls, having rainbow-colored "smunched" goldfish for a snack and water in cups like Gramma's (dixie cups), and the fact that another little girl had the same shoes as her so "we have to go home and put them on so everyone can see them quick!"

Now, if you listen closely you'll hear my gigantic sigh of relief...