My daughter’s class went on a field trip this week and I volunteered to chaperone for the following reasons:

1. She turned eight last Thursday and it did something weird to me. Like, all of a sudden I’m a total mathlete when it comes to how much time we have before each milestone (“One hundred weeks until she’s in the double digits!” and “Lordy, she’s half of a licensed driver!”). I can’t stop scrolling through pictures and videos of when she was tiny. You guys, I keep petting her face. I’m telling you, I’ve gone WEIRDO. This explains why I viewed chaperoning as an opportunity to soak up a few more hours of the 85,200 that I have left to raise her (I’m telling you-mad mathletic skills).

2. Venturing anywhere other than Target or Costco these days feels the best kind of wild and crazy (not that I would ever dream of replacing your spots in my heart, Costco & Targ. Hugs to you both. I’ll see you after nap time!).

The students were field tripping to the high school just down the road to study agriculture and here are a few things I learned:

1. When you’re in second grade, a lesson in agriculture looks like this: hold a baby chicken, hold a baby pig, play with robots, form tissue paper into a flower, eat some toast. Boom. The future suddenly holds 21 farmers from Mr. Hernandez’s class. I mean, who wouldn’t want to farm after that? Even I went home and started Googling barns.

2. A healthy chicken’s body temperature is between 102-104º.

3. Baby pig poop is as awful as it sounds. Those little bacon seeds know how to clear a room. My heart actually softened a bit toward Fern’s dad in Charlotte’s Web. I may have second guessed Wilber myself if I was constantly cleaning up that business.

4. Kids today can watch a real life robot move around the room and NOT freak out. They are more impressed by a crazy mom who keeps squealing and referring to The Jetsons (figuratively speaking, of course) than they are by an actual robot.

5. It is fully possible for a small person to lose their coat twenty six times in a 3 hour window.

6. As an eight year old, it is socially acceptable to adjust a wedgie and indulge in the occasional nose pick.

7. Teachers are too incredible for words. They can juggle the individual needs of 20+ students and still find time to thank you for volunteering to eat toast and hold tiny animals.

8. The sense of wonder found in a child is contagious. Robots aside, everything else becomes so much more fascinating when you see it through their eyes.

9. When a second grader asks you how old you are, that is NOT the time to dig for a compliment. When you tell her to guess and hope that she, in her naiveté, will say 16, 19, or 24, she will most definitely guess  39, 47, and 52. No worries kid. You’re only off by the entire lifespan of a college student. Whatevs.

10. And finally, I have a reflex that I have never noticed until this field trip. Every time my daughter slips her hand into mine, I whisper “thank you” under my breath. She’s heard me before and has tossed out a chipper “you’re welcome.” But what my daughter doesn’t know (and may not until she’s on a second grade field trip with her own kiddo) is that I’m not actually talking to her.

God, thank you for this precious little life.

Thank you for her contagious sense of wonder.

And thank you for letting today not be the day she decides she’s too big for this.

 

So there you have it. It pays to volunteer as a chaperone. You’re never too old to learn new things on a field trip.

Even when you’re 39, 47, or 52…

Like me.

 

 

 

 

I sometimes feel bad for Tuesday. The poor thing typically gets a bad wrap. It’s unrightfully seen as the “armpit” of the week, am I right?

Tuesday can’t measure up to the attention Monday gets from dramatic haters and it fades in comparison to the Hump Day chants lifted up to Wednesday in offices everywhere.

It’s like the unintentionally forgotten third child (not that I’ve ever forgotten my third child…today). “Let’s see, we have Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and crazy ol’ Saturday…are we missing somebody? I feel like we might be missing somebody…”

But Tuesdays are kind of awesome around here.

They start at 5 AM (not the awesome part) when my husband leaves for a small group (yes, there are actually multiple people who are up before the sun. I didn’t believe it at first either). At about 7:12 AM, that same husband waltzes back in, suddenly looking like a superhero and carrying a cardboard box full of Spudnuts (if you don’t know what Spudnuts are, my heart actually breaks for you). I swear our neighbors wake up consistently at 7:12 every Tuesday morning to the “DONUT DAY!!!!!” screams that come from our house. Sorry Bob and Trudy. Much love to you.

I’m not sure if it’s the deliciously glazed potato-flour pastries that make the morning so spectacular, or if it’s the fact that we’re all in the kitchen together, smiling with chocolate-ringed lips on a day that is usually deemed insignificant. Either way, we’re in love with mornings like this.

So raise a donut to Tuesday. Treat yourself. Treat your family. Find something to make it stand out against the other 6 days. They’ve already found their glory, man.

And listen up, Tuesday. Thanks for being awesome. I can’t speak for everyone–but in our house, you’re a real fave.

 

P.S. Remember that little blip about never forgetting my third child? Well…

 

It’s happening. The Birthday Eve Bug has bit me again. It never matters whose big day it is–with my husband, myself, and all three of our kiddos, you’d think I would be better prepared for it (seeing as it never fails to appear).

I’m feeling all the feelings, you guys. Joyful, reminiscent, happy, weepy, hopeful, tearful, excited, and a little bit mad…maybe just sad-mad. That basically sums up my emotional journey today. You see, I just tucked my two year old twins into bed for the last time. In t-minus 33 minutes, my babyish 2’s become big kiddish 3’s. I don’t know how this happened because I literally JUST saw an ultrasound with two tiny beating hearts like one second ago.

G & J,

On the eve of your birthday, as we talk about celebrating and you share your dreams to “eat cake, eat candy, and sleep in big sissy’s bed,” I have a few things I just have to tell you.

#1. This is probably one of the last times you’re going to lay eyes on those pacifiers in your mouths. Don’t get me wrong, if it were up to me I’d let you keep those puppies for life. They’re so sanitary and are totally doing your teeth a favor in the alignment realm. But that dang paci fairy has other plans. She’s so mean.

#2. We really need to quit diapers now. Like cold turkey style. The big potty is where it’s at, kids.

#3. No matter how often I complain about  my “mom brain” or  my “mom hair” or my “mom under-eye bags from the countless times a certain somebody climbed out of his bed a trillion times before 5 am”–please believe me when I say that being your mom is SO worth it.

#4. I am loving getting to watch you grow. I know I beg you like a mad woman to stay tiny, but the truth is, you’re actually getting more and more fun (even though some days seem more and more exhausting!) I can’t wait to watch this next year unfold before you.

#5. No matter how big and grownup-y you get, no matter how many ridiculously dumb mistakes you make, and no matter how often you’re convinced that I’m the wrongest person in the world–I will never, ever, ever (times infinity) stop loving you. Because three years ago at 2:42 am and 2:47 am, I caught my first glimpses of you and fell…hook, line, and sinker.

So goodnight to you, sweet babes. Sleep well, for when you wake, you’ll be a year older. This mama of your’s will be out of this birthday eve funk and ready to party!

Eat cake.

Eat candy.

Sleep in big sissy’s bed (or wherever the heck you want, just s-l-e-e-p).

 

So much love,

Mom