Posted by: heartfull | October 21, 2009


Have I mentioned that Chip is a pro at preschool?  He still needs an extra hug or two at drop off, but he seems to be really enjoying it – and is proud of that fact.

Yesterday they went on a field trip to the farmers’ market.  I had hoped to go but Mare has been sick (day 3) and thus couldn’t.  Though I was disappointed, I decided it might not actually be a bad thing for Chip.  Quite honestly, I’m pretty sure he was far better behaved without my presence.

I was late for pick up and he was the last one in the room, helping his teacher stack chairs.  She told me what a big helper he was on the field trip, holding the hands of the younger kids.  I glowed with pride because I know that is the real Chip, but not the Chip I get to see very often.


The real Chip.  Just like the real Bird is the one the teachers rave about, that my friend tells me is such a grown up young lady when riding to piano lessons without me.  Not the Bird that talks back to me and screams at her little sister. The real Mare is the one that parents love to have over for play dates because they just go so well.  She is so polite and quiet, yet her friends have fun, I’m told.  The one whose teachers tell me is smart and respectful at school, getting along with a variety of children.  Not the Mare that teases her siblings and whines to her parents.

I love having glimpses of these real kids because it reassures me that I’m doing it right even though their behavior can be all wrong in my presence.


Last night after getting back from my parents – where we have been eating dinner every night during the construction – the girls started playing with their Polly Pockets.  They had some elaborate scene going and though I hated to disturb them, by 8:15 is was nervous about getting them in bed at a decent time.  I was told they were “almost done” and so I gave them 7 more minutes and stood outside the door listening.  The dolls were getting married at this point, and I guess the girls wanted to end the scene with the wedding.  I found this so fascinating.  That there was an end to the story they had concocted.  That my 10 year old still wanted to play dolls.  That they could play together so well.

Those are my real kids.  Sometimes.


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