Firsts

Last week we celebrated a first--Ryan's first birthday.  It was a beautiful day-blue skies, warm temperatures, great friends and family.  Ryan was a trooper too, being held by lots of people, hardly fussed, and ate his cake (and hamburger patty) pretty well.  More than likely it will be our last first birthday party.  We are pretty sure we are not having any more children--of course God may tell us otherwise--and so I hope I can savor the memories for a lifetime. 

Preparing for the party was fun.  I had a blast buying green and blue plates, decorations, the food for the party, and making the cupcakes.  I even made "homemade" icing and tinted it myself, then used a pastry bag and tip to decorate the tops.  Not too bad if I say so myself.  I've never made the cake for any of Braden's parties, so I've given myself an imaginary pat on the back for that one.

Tomorrow, we'll celebrate another first--registering our first child for his first year of school--kindergarten.  I knew this day would come, but I'm surprised at how quickly it arrived.  Surprisingly enough, I actually have all of the paperwork needed to get him registered.  Braden will do well in school; me, I'm not sure how well I will handle the next 4 months.  That first day of school makes me want to run in the opposite direction and cradle my "baby" at home in the rocker.

Oddly enough, I remember my first day of school.  It was at Marvin Elementary and I was in Mrs. Slater's class.  There was a kiva in the classroom.  I remember kids crying left and right, but I was determined to be brave.  I remember not wanting my mom to leave, but I was not going to cry.  That year ended up being miserable.  It started with the school making my class "Hispanics only".  I did not speak Spanish, although several of my classmates only spoke Spanish.  I remember my teacher leaving the classroom for long periods of time, and leaving me in charge, with a stack of books for me to read aloud to the class.  I also remember this woman locking me in a closet and calling me an "Indian giver" because I let a girl borrow my beads (back then the cool thing to do was string beads on safety pins and make long chains.  My mom was awesome and made me some pretty cool chains.) and I asked for them back.  The girl claimed I let her have them and I was in turn punished. 

Surely, he'll have a better year, right?  I mean, if I remember my first day of kinder, he might too.  Will he be liked?  Picked on?  Will the teacher like him?  Will she think he's "that" kid?  I guess teaching for 10 years has twisted my view of things on THIS side of it all.  I am now the parent.  And I'll probably be THAT parent. Now for the "a-ha" moment, because I now am starting to "get it". 

I've held several jobs throughout my life, but this momma gig--by far the hardest. So many gray areas and not enough black and white.  Too many "what ifs" and not enough certainties.  I suppose, though, that this one certainty is enough--God knows the answers to these questions.  There is nothing in the world that I can do to ensure anything, but knowing that God is there before we are is comforting.  He knows, and He loves my children more than my brain can fathom.

But even still, these firsts are exciting yet scary, inevitable yet unexpectedly here.  Happening NOW.  Whether I feel ready, or not.