We have made it through four official days of preschool. After taking it all in quietly at first, M’s personality begins to shine.
Day 1: M was waiting for me to pick her up, sitting on the bench, little legs dangling. She hadn’t tried to put on her coat, boots, nada.
Day 3: M volunteered to help a 5 year old girl put her shoes and socks on! According to the teachers, the 5 yr old was a little envious of the “baby” new girl, M. I am relieved to hear M’s humor and mischief has kicked in.
Day 4: M is ready to go. Coat and boots are on, and she doesn’t seem phased that she is the last kid left on the bench. (Phew.)
I have to admit I love the extra time to hang out with M’s younger brother J, while M is in school. Yesterday, the boy and I power napped in the makeshift den / office / [ahem] car. How I relished the quiet thoughts brought on by the engine hum. I am so grateful that I had time to just give in and take a break. Seat warmers accompanied by driver’s seat yoga meditation cannot be overrated as relaxation aids…especially when preceded by a preschool drop-off.
“Ooooh, Ch-ch-ch-ch Changes!” à la Bowie.
Now, if I were to heed the advice of some how-to writing books, I should probably end my post with the Bowie reference. Be forewarned then, if like nice clean edges, you had best to stop reading. However, because I often get amused by tangents, I will continue blogging.
Today I attempted to edit photos while M was at school. (Yes, I am trying to launch my bellybudhha’s doula, yoga, belly & birth photography business in my “off” hours.) After cleaning up the blackberry Pollock piece J created while feasting, his diaper change and wash down of all parties involved, I was excited to relive the past few days through Lightroom glimpses. Although I did not get very far due to uninteresting technical difficulties, a start is a good start.
My sculpture teacher, Peter Rubino (rubinostudio.com) once told me that when you create—be it with clay, writing, blending paint on a palette, editing—you should periodically check what you are (sub)consciously putting aside because the “discards” may transform into an art piece as well. In other words, energy is energy, always full of potential.
Perhaps then, I should put down a big piece of paper under the kids as they eat; we might even be able to “etsy” the results: “organic painting by baby-toddler duo.” J definitely creates gorgeous abstractions as he chases the food around his tray. Bigger, chip-size chunks (see babyledweaning.com) make for interesting patterns, even on the floor. Or possibly in a blog.
I would love to hear your thoughts.