The Next Phase: Destination Kindergarten

Tomorrow is Allie’s last day of preschool. She has grown up so much since the first day she arrived with her brand new lunch pail and such excitement to meet all the KIDS! KIDS! I failed in the “keeping my eyes dry” department, despite my best efforts.

I wondered if I was making the right decision, putting her in preschool, rather than continuing to teach her Zoophonics at home. She was making so much progress and we were both enjoying the curriculum. I waited until this January to enter her into preschool because I just was not ready to let her go just yet. In hindsight, I know it was a perfect choice both waiting and putting her in preschool. I have savored the moments we have had together.

Yet, a new era begins on Tuesday. She enters Kindergarten at F O U R. She does not turn five until November 3rd and I have struggled with this decision. Soon after giving birth, I vowed that she would be home with me until she was five, turning six a few months later. I worried about sending a 17 year old to college, remembering my college self that made poor decisions such as going to Tijuana and the trouble I could have been in. As time went on, however, Mr. Bear’s aunt (who was born in late November and started Kindergarten at four) and my mom (also a November baby and started Kindergarten at four) assured us that she would be fine.

A few months ago, we took Allie to her pre-K physical with her pediatrician. The nurse did her exam and Allie was being silly. She acts silly when she is uncomfortable or with new people. She kept asking if they were going to give her a shot. The nurse asked several questions and told us the doctor would be in. The doctor began her exam, then asked Allie if she could write her name and draw a square on the tissue paper on the exam table. Allie began trying to write her name on the wrinkled paper. The pen was not working on the tissue paper and Allie told her she did not know if she could draw a square.

The pediatrician then asked me if she was in preschool. Yes. Does her preschool teacher think she is ready for Kindergarten? Yes, she is fine. She was very abrupt. I grabbed a pen and paper out of my purse and asked Allie to write her name, which she gladly did, with a backward ‘S’ in her name. The doctor seemed underwhelmed by her performance. She then told me that I need to work on writing her name at home with her. I was taken by surprise and speechless. I think my response was something like, “Yes, ma’am.” She was not listening anyhow. She was also in and out in five minutes.

Then, they strong-armed me into giving her an “optional” vaccination that I refused on the previous visit.

Allie writes her name at home all the time. She draws and paints all the time. She had been doing so for well over a year at that point. However, she does it on paper, without someone that may give her a shot hovering over her, waiting for her quick response. I felt like a failure. Was I making the right choice? Is there ever a way to know? After all, does anyone ever fail Kindergarten? No, really. Does anyone?

Yesterday, I was driving over to pick Allie up from preschool, when I heard that the California Senate voted to delay Kindergarten age from the December 2nd cut-off to September 1. Had this decision been made last year, Allie would be home another year with me. The doubt crept in. The choice has been made, however, and we are steadfast in our decision.

We will be taking Allie to Kindergarten, entourage in tow. Both grandmothers will be here for the big day and I wonder if they are going to be here for my support, or Allie’s, when the big day arrives. Daddy will be taking the day off to walk her to the door. I will have the support of friends and family, but will bring plenty of tissues. Oh, my heart.

Anyone have any stories of delaying or not delaying Kindergarten? How did you decide? What was the result? Do you have any regrets?

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Accepting My (Post-Baby) Beach Body

Becoming one with my “new body,” that is not so new is something I struggle with. I cannot say I did not have body issues (whatever that means), when I was younger. Even at my lowest college weight of 124, I had problems with my body image. I am a fat-bottomed girl, even at my lowest weight. I am thinner-waist and thicker-bottomed. Baby got back, at any size. I never felt comfortable with my body. I never learned to love it.

It does not matter my size, my issues with my weight have always existed. I remember being in the seventh grade, doing the Atkin’s Diet, before it was cool. SEVENTH GRADE. I was a larger framed girl, but fat, I was not. I was never comfortable with my slim waist and rounder curves. I had hips and a waist. I had a ripped waist and a butt. I was terribly self-conscious. I wore a long t-shirt over a bathing suit. I did a lot of tugging, pulling, and adjusting in whatever I wore.

Now, with my version of a mom body, I no longer tug and pull. I do not try to fake it in a bikini; I just do not wear one. On the other hand, I am comfortable in what I am wearing. I look as good as I am going to look, where I am now. I am not wearing a bathing skirt. I am not wearing a bikini. I wear a conservative one piece. My butt and boobs are not hanging out. I am wearing an age appropriate bathing suit. I am working on becoming the best body I can be, but I am not hiding behind the t-shirt, shorts, or anything else. I have a post-baby body that is not in the best shape I want it to be. What if this is the best body I ever have? If it is or is not, who cares? I am not going to miss playing in the water with my kid. I am going to embrace me, in spite of being me.

As I scan the public pool, I see so many bodies there. Some, pretending their bodies belong in a bikini, some bikini bodies hiding behind t-shirts or shorts, some pretending they still fit into their pre-baby bikinis, and others wearing their shorts and shirts (bathing suits, completely hidden). I see a lot of self-consciousness at the pool. I see all the things about me, at the pool, at different stages of my own bathing suit body life.

In the big picture, it does not matter what I wear. It does not matter what any of us wear. No one cares, as much as we do. What worries me is how harshly we view ourselves. We judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else could. I, for one, am going to enjoy splashing in the pool, with my little one, without worrying about those nagging insecurities.

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Apparently, My Snoring is Less Benign Than First Suspected

Mr. Bear and I have been trying to conceive for two years now. Each and every month, the pregnancy tests are coming back negative. My biological clock is ticking away. I am now 37 years old and of “advanced maternal age.” We get asked a lot, “When do you think you are going to have another one?” Each time, I shrug my shoulders, shaking my fists at the universe. When? That is the question I am often uttering.

Allie has been asking a lot of questions lately. Yesterday, it was, “Mommy, when I get older, are my—what are those things called? Going to look like yours?” she implored, while pointing at my “boo boo’s.” She has been calling my breasts boo boo’s. She quizzed me a couple of weeks ago, where babies came from, on her way to school. In order to avoid the drawn out conversation about the birds and the bees on our 15 minute journey to preschool, I told her that the stork comes at night and puts a baby in my belly. She was intrigued. “Can I see the stork?” I insisted that she could not bother the stork, as it would scare him away.

Today, she came up to me and said, “Mommy, can you not snore tonight, so the stork can come and put a baby brother or baby sister in your belly?” Conception problems resolved. All I need to do, is stop snoring.

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Start Spreading the News, I’m Leaving Today

The BlogHer Finale:

We partied until 3:00 a.m. Saturday night. Mr. Bear and I got up late Sunday morning. We were a bit refreshed, finally getting more than five hours of sleep for the first time since Tuesday. We sorted through the piles and piles of Swag, choosing what we liked the most and leaving the rest for housekeeping. We packed our bags and checked out of the hotel room. From all the hooting, hollering, chatting, and talking, my voice was shot. We decided to wander the city, just Mr. Bear and I. We hardly saw each other the whole weekend. It was nice to get some time to talk about our very different weekends.

After paying the Hilton $3.50 a bag to watch our luggage, we went for a walk around the city. We first went to Trump Towers.

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Then, we wandered down a block to FAO Swartz, famous for the Big Piano from the movie Big, with Tom Hanks. They did a recreation of Chop Sticks from a scene from the movie. It was a BIG toy store and something my dad really wanted us to visit.

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Next, we went to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral (St. Pat’s), where I broke down in tears. The last time I was at St.Pat’s, I was six months pregnant with Allie. It was a difficult pregnancy and I ended up in the emergency room in Queen’s before we left the city. I thought I was having a miscarriage and I was terrified. I am not incredibly religious, but I lit a candle in St. Pat’s and said a prayer. I was worried about the little one in my belly and the feelings came rushing back. I called Allie and talked with her, then silently said a prayer. My heart was filled with gratitude that she was healthy, happy, and perfect. My prayers were answered. Thankful, does not seem to sum up my heart at that point.

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We walked down to Rockefeller Center, where we wandered around aimlessly for a while, where my shirt threatened to come untied every five minutes. Fortunately, for you, I had just retied it.

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We then got caught up in a Puerto Rican parade, that nearly shut down the area we were in for hours.

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This was the nightmare that would characterize our attempt to cross the streets. What a parade! What a mess!

We went to Times Square, where there were many celebrity sightings, including:

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ELMO!

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Sponge Bob!

…and, this creepy guy:

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THE Neked Cowboy

Who insisted on groping me,

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While I turned more and more red, and Mr. Bear laughed hysterically.

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He was whispering stuff in my ear and all I could think about was running away. I am not easily embarrassed, however, THIS, is evidently my breaking point.

Soon after, we made our way back to the hotel, got our luggage, and proceeded to get completely lost on the subway. I lost my mind for a while and cried like a baby, wailing about missing our plane and not getting to see our baby. Mr. Bear patiently put up with my whining, assuring me that we would be okay, when a BlogHer miracle happened. We ran into the nicest people (Who says New Yorkers are rude?) that gladly told us how to get to the airport, safely, efficiently, and on-time. Then, our flight was delayed an hour and a half, and that is life right there.

All and all, this was a trip of a lifetime! I loved it and only wish I had more time to process the awesomeness that was our whirlwind adventure to New York.

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BlogHer Saturday: the Parties, the Swag, the Sessions

I barely woke up on time Saturday morning. The red eye flight on Wednesday evening/Thursday morning, the late night Thursday, the early morning Friday, the late night Friday, and I was hurting. I went to breakfast, feeling a bit nauseous. The breakfast from the morning before had a variety of foods. Saturday was chockful of CARBS! SWEETS! MORE CARBS! AND PASTRIES! Blech. Not exactly what I needed. I needed protein—STAT! After piling a plateful of food that I could not stomach. I found my new BFF’s Jenn and Jen from Boston and we commenced to discuss our crazy fun night. What parties would we attend? What sessions were we going to? Would I have time for a nap? (No.)

We parted ways and I confess that I went back upstairs to close my eyes for *just* a second. I freshened up and made it through the sessions, consuming, breathing in, digesting the sessions, and learning so much. I attended the sessions entitled: Writing Lab: How to Use Your Blogging to Make You a Better Writer, Passions: Fitness Blogging: Motivate Yourself and Your Readers, and Personal: ROYO – Little Fish in a Big Pond: Understanding, Accepting, and Loving Your Small Blog. I cannot say which of these three I loved the most. They were all profoundly informative and had great dialogue. There is something magical about being involved in the conversations in the room. Being surrounded by such intelligent, talented, amazing woman was something I will not soon forget. Hangover be damned, this was something special and I drank in the time spent in those conference rooms.

The BlogHer conference had a lot of free stuff. I mean, more shiz than I could possibly imagine. The sponsors were numerous: Chevy, Nestle, Jimmy Dean (sausage), Tropicana, Wal-Mart, P&G, PepsiCo, Playskool, T-Mobile, Pilsbury, Firefox, Microsoft, and MANY, MANY more! Each sponsor had FREE! STUFF!! WOOT! I left so much behind in the hotel room, because I just could not pack it all and take it with us (You are welcome, Cleaning Staff of the Hilton. I spent all my cash on booze the night before. Consider the Swag a tip). Everyone was buzzing about the Swag! Martha Stewart had two bags of Swag to give and I kept the stationary punch—something I would have never justified purchasing myself, but look forward to using.

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There was a Playdoh set given out by PlaySkool, but thank you TSA for considering playdoh a liquid. Some fine gift I gave my daughter—without the Playdoh.

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There was just so much. Free $150 jeans! Free make-up! Free make-overs! Tampons! Free adult toys! Boxed food! I went to the Swag suites upstairs, where Ecco Shoes was giving free pedicures, previewing their Fall shoe collection for women and passing out cupcakes and champagne. I cannot even believe how much stuff was given out. Corporate America cares about what women bloggers think and it amazed me how much we matter, as women. It was a bit overwhelming to comprehend, as I was not expecting to see it first hand. I have been asked to review products on my blog, but THIS was mind-blowing! Fill out this survey and get this Swag bag. I have more recyclable grocery bags than I could use in my lifetime. Each one, was filled to the top with goodies.

The Parties

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Oh, BlogHer and her parties! There were so many activities going on all the time and many of them going on simultaneously. I was unsure before arriving in New York, if I would get into any of the parties. They were doing things differently this year and by the time I got to RSVP, they were all wait-listed. Great, I thought. I had a bit of angst, as my new BFF’s and I had each gotten into a different party, each owning our own agenda for the night. It was looking like I was flying solo.

I went to the first party with Jen from Boston. It was Bloggy State of Mind and it was so much fun! They had street dancers that were so talented! We stayed for a while, grabbed some drinks, and ate some of the yummy appetizers. The music was good and I did my white girl dance.

Next up, was SPARKLECORN! This was the party that Jenn was looking forward to and I didn’t know what to expect. The cake had peanut butter and jelly filling. There was karaoke. Even the President made his appearance. Who knew Barrack Obama would be there? (Not really, but there was a cardboard representation of Obama and people were dancing with him. I understand there was a congo line, with him leading the line). I had so much fun and the time went by so quickly. We met up with Jenn and had even more drinks! I danced even more white girl dancing and for the first time in a long time—I didn’t care that I don’t have rhythm.

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Sporting my Blogalicious head piece around my neck, because I am an original. Or, something. Glow bracelets and necklaces, courtesy of Sparklecorn.

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Carmen and ???. I met Carmen at the Fitness Blogging: Motivate Yourself and Your Readers session. She is so inspiring and such an awesome lady!

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I love this picture of Jenn. It totally captures her personality. The girl is hilarious!

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Sierra, Jenn’s co-worker. She was sweet and adorable.

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These two girls were all dolled up in their Sparklecorn gear.

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The cake

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Jenn and Sierra

The next party was the one I had been looking most forward to—CheeseburgHer! At this party, there was McDonald’s food and a table to decorate your own CheeseburgHer hat. There was more dancing, more drinks and more fun!

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CheeseburgHers!

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I loved this girl’s hat!

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There were plenty of places to hang out and relax, including in the CheeseburgHer beds.

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Who was that masked man?

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Jen from Boston—is that a Pink Twitter in your hand?

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Cheesing it up!

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Jenn and I

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Mr. Bear, getting his cheese on.

I had a great night. I got into all the parties I wanted. I got to meet so many cool women, including Y of Joy Unexpected. I have been blog stalking her for the past couple of years. I introduced myself to her and she gave me a hug. She was beautiful in person. She was very warm and friendly (not that I expected any less from her). I was a little nervous meeting her and I did not get a chance to talk to her for long, but she was sweet. Her recount of the CheeseburgHer parties (on her blog) of the past were one of the reasons I was so excited about the party.

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