16

Sixteen years ago, almost to the minute, I met the most incredible little person. In the first moments of staring into her eyes, I wondered a thousand wonders. Who would she become? What would her hobbies be? Who would she look like? What would her personality be? I hoped, wished, and prayed our bond would be as strong as mine is with my mom, who was looking over my shoulder with a smile brighter than I'd ever seen before. 

"Did you ever know you could love someone so much, baby?" my mom asked.

I didn't. I was quickly whisked out of labor and delivery, and into a room upstairs. It seemed like only a few seconds later my family was bidding me farewell for the evening and I was left alone with my new best friend. I was mesmerized by her and equally terrified I would do something to break her. I had mothered many animals- but human babies? I retired from my babysitting career after one summer. Babies were bossy, sticky, and kind of germy little creatures. But this one? This one was perfect.

After we came home from the hospital, our days became quite routine. My life had never been so routine, in fact. I learned quickly that Little Miss enjoyed a schedule and come hell or highwater (and sometimes she was the hell and the highwater) we were following the schedule to ensure a decent night of sleep. We blinked a few times too many, and the days of rocking chairs and bottles were traded in for strolls to the park and visits to the children's museum. Little did I know, the seasons that would follow would fly by faster each year.

I suppose every parent becomes nostalgic on their child's birthday each year. In reflecting today, I remembered the thousand wonders that flooded my mind as I stared into Little Miss's eyes for the first time. Who would she become? Her. She's become her, as simple yet complex as that sounds. She has become her own person; a person I am thankful to have had a hand in molding, but am not sure I did near as much as she did along the way. The truth is, just as she grew into herself, I grew into myself all because of her. She continues to teach me and mold me into a better person each day. What would her hobbies be? Well, what started as a hobby, quickly escalated into a career. Her heart is on the stage, and when she steps onto that stage, she becomes the character she portrays. Her work ethic at sixteen is stronger than most adults in this world. Who would she look like? Her Bub...100%. And sometimes, when she gets really excited to share a story, it is like looking in a shorter, brunette mirror. What would her personality be? Kind. So incredibly kind. She loves her people fiercely and would do anything in the world to support them. She can argue better than I ever hoped to and has a poker face that would even confuse Lady Gaga. 

The hope, wish, and prayer to have a bond like my mom and I's, a best friend bond, was answered, and then some. While our bond is absolutely as strong as my mom and I's, so is her bond with my mom. She, my mom, and I are like a tiny girl gang. We have traveled all over the east coast together to see concerts and countless theatre productions. Where one goes, so do the other two. 

Sometimes when we make a wish or say a prayer, I imagine God just winks at us. Already got it handled, boo...already got it handled.

Thanks to Roanoke...

Tonight wrapped the 2015 season of The Lost Colony. While Little Miss's season wrapped on Wednesday evening, we had to come back one more time to watch the final show.

I, personally, have watched the show so many times this summer that I catch myself whispering the lines along with the actors. {I may audition next year. Eleanor...do you need an understudy?} I have seen the rain dances, bug dances, hidden yawns...each night exhibited new excitement from the cast. But this week? This week was phenomenal. The emotion from each cast member was true. The audience felt it...they felt the pain of the colonist who'd lost loved ones- and who were uncertain of their own futures. They felt that pain because the cast members were truly hurting. The end of this season meant the end {somewhat} of their family. The end of meeting together each night to share in something that only they can really understand. 

I will admit, I was nervous when Little Miss took her part with The Lost Colony. I worried about all the things mothers worry about when they send their child off to school or a new extra-curricular activity. What if there is a bully? What if she doesn't make friends? What if she forgets her manners and is rude? What if...what if. Those worries faded almost immediately during her first performance. Whether it was Queen Elizabeth herself or a colonist, they all greeted Little Miss each night by name. They even learned who her Granddad was...and loved him just like she does. 

During tonight's show, we watched from the stands with Little Miss...who saw parts of the show for the first time- having missed them while she was on stage herself. I watched her eyes twinkle with excitement. I listened to her whisper, "watch for this part" or "gunshot coming!" to her little seastar. {seastar: best friend/step-sister...step-sister is so cliche} 

Toward the end of the play, Old Tom spoke from the roof...and tonight I heard his speech completely differently than I'd ever heard it before.

"Roanoke...Roanoke made a man...a man of me!" he exclaimed.

My eyes filled with tears. 

Oh, Roanoke...you have helped my baby grow this summer. You have taught her so much in these few short months. I am so grateful...grateful for the experience, the people, the talent...all of it.

As the cast made their final march through tears, I cried right along with them. While I hope Little Miss will join the cast again next year, there will never be another first year there...with this incredible cast of people. 

I have to make a special note to Mr. Jesse- who held Little Miss's hand each night as he told the story of The Lost Colony. You may never understand how special you are to us. In losing our "Big Gully" this same year, you brought a part of him to life for us. We love you...and will see you next summer, whether here or in Alabama!

What a Wonderful Year

Yesterday was the last day of Little Miss's 2nd grade career. 

I can't...I just...can't. Where has time gone? Why is it that, as she gets older, time goes by faster? {and somehow I don't age a day, weird}

As I walked her down the hall to her classroom, we walked past the room she spent her kindergarden year in. It took me back to the first day I walked her into the elementary school. I had butterflies in my belly and tears running down my cheeks- she held her head high and was ready to start her school day.

We walked past her first grade classroom...and again, I went back in time to the memories in that particular classroom. The two teachers who will undoubtedly always hold a very special place in my heart.- they helped both Little Miss and I through many life changes in one short school year. They always seemed to know when I needed an extra, "She's doing fine...and so are you, Mom" or when Little Miss needed an extra hug at morning drop off.

This year, Little Miss started the school year upstairs- and midway through the year, moved to a new classroom in the new wing of the school. I remember the fear she had, at the beginning of the year, of falling up the stairs. {let's face it, she's her mother's child} Those fears have now faded.

As we rounded the corner and walked into her classroom, I became overwhelmed with emotion. {my baby is about to be a third grader} I kept it together while we gave her teacher our "thank you for rocking our 2nd grade experience" gift. Little Miss's teacher this year has also been so extremely special to us. We had our first experience with a bullying situation- and Little Miss so desperately did not want to be a tattle tale, so she held back telling anyone at school what was happening. When I told her teacher- she reacted immediately. It was so difficult to watch my little one be upset- and not be able to resolve the issue for her. To try to teach her how to resolve it on her own- without turning into a bully herself. Thanks to her teacher being 'on it' and her mommy-instincts kicking in too- within days, the situation was resolved and the girls were friends. {seriously, she worked some magic or voodoo or something} 

When I left Little Miss in her classroom, for her last day in second grade, I thought back to my second grade year. The field trips...the day my dad picked me up on my horse, Sham...the laughter....the last year before 'real' school stress began- it was a wonderful year. Both times I was able to experience the second grade...they were both such wonderful years.

The Lost Colony + Little Miss

On Valentine's Day, we celebrated my uncle's life- affectionately known as Big Gully, Capt Vern, Goat....On a day known for celebrating love...we celebrated our love for him by sharing stories from the book of his life.

The following week, Little Miss auditioned for The Lost Colony. She practiced a poem to recite in front of the director- a simple poem about bears that she said reminded her of Big Gully. My stomach was in knots for her...but she held her head high and wasn't nervous at all.

About 6 weeks later, we heard back from her audition. Unfortunately, the news wasn't what we wanted to hear. They encouraged her to audition again next year because she did a phenomenal job. Little Miss was devastated. (I'm talking- homegirl was ready to start a riot.)

A month went by- she would ask here and there when the play was starting. Followed by, "Mama- I don't think I can go watch it this year...I'm still so upset I didn't make it." I told her we didn't have to...but tried to encourage auditions again. 

A few weeks ago, I heard from the casting director again.

"Is Riya still interested in acting? We have a child who couldn't make the summer commitment and Riya was at the top of our list!"

I almost dropped the phone. I may have screamed in his ear. {stage mom status}

Little Miss was to the moon with excitement. She couldn't wait to get to her first rehearsal and find out all the details of the part she would play in the longest-running outdoor drama in the United States.

On the first day of rehearsals, we gathered in the backstage area of Waterside Theater. I told Little Miss stories from my childhood- from playing backstage to walking across the stage on my high school graduation day...she was too enthralled with her own experience to hear my tales.

"This year...we will be doing something a little different. Each year, our narrator is dressed in somewhat of a graduates outfit- and reads from a book to help the audience understand some of the details in the show," said the director.

"This year- our 'historian' will be more of a local looking guy. A man with a white beard, a fishing cap and boat shoes...an older fisherman-type," he said.

I felt Little Miss tug at my arm.

"It sounds just like Big Gully, Mama!" she said.

I couldn't help but fight back tears. I was thinking the exact same thing. 

"He will pull two children from the audience each night to help him explain the story," he explained.

"I hope I get that part!" Little Miss whispered.

"Riya...can you come up here to stand with our historian...you'll be spending a lot of time together this summer!" he said.

The tears streamed down my face as the other moms surely thought I had lost my mind. {overly proud stage mom?} 

Little Miss stood next to the historian, beaming from ear to ear.

As the sun set beautifully over the sound that my uncle fished in daily, I knew he had something to do with this moment. Not only did Big Gully help get Little Miss into The Lost Colony...he got himself a part, right beside her, too.

Ho Ho Holidays

The Christmas season is so busy that it seems like- by the time the stockings are filled and the turkey is in the oven...I realize a gazillion tradition I would've liked to have done with my little family. But didn't.

One new tradition we started- we welcomed an Elf on the Shelf to our family this year. Her name is Ruby. The day she arrived from the North Pole- Little Miss saw a tiny white feather beside her. She decided Aunt Ruby (who has real wings b/c she's an angel now) must've had a hand in the elf finding us. (I cried.) While many elves seemed very energetic at night, according to their human's facebook pages, ours tended to just hop from place to place. I had a heck of a time remembering to "leave the window open" for the Elf...so she could fly in & out. (aheeem) 

On Christmas Eve, in between deep-cleaning the house b/c apparently, I thought Santa was coming to stay-a-while, Little Miss, Mr.B and I baked and decorated cookies. They were delicious...Santa shared.

The morning of the big day- I woke up at 6am. I had butterflies in my belly just like I did when I was a little one. I tip-toed out into the living room and saw what the jolly-ole-elf left for us. I fixed my coffee, put the breakfast casserole into the oven- and snuggled back down in bed. Two hours (TWO HOURS) later, Little Miss woke up...and stumbled into our bedroom. The three of us walked into the living room together & Little Miss was overjoyed with the American Girl accessories Santa left for her & her doll. A few minutes later, my parents arrived with homemade biscuits...and my Christmas was complete. (They were cheese biscuits...mmmm my heart skips a beat just thinking about the little dollops of dough filled with cheese.)

Little Miss shredded through present after present- Barbie, clothes...hmmm- a small box that doesn't rattle? This is probably a boring...IPAD!!?!?? Then she peed a little.

At that point, neither of us cared about any other presents- we just wanted to play with our new toys. We got my parents a Kindle Fire...and my dad (the truck driving, mechanic, who's far from a tech-savvy fella) hasn't put it down yet. He asked me yesterday about Twitter...he wants to sign up. I love it.

Once the presents were opened and it was time to play with our gifts...shockingly, no one wanted a photo. No problem- that's why I have pets...because they're loyal and there for you when you need them. Hmph.

Thanks, Kitties.

I was able to sneak a few of Little Miss...after lying and saying "Noooo I'm not shooting you...I'm shooting this piece of wrapping paper in the floor." (Bedhead documented...sweet!)

And yes...half the lights on our Christmas/Hanukkah tree don't work. It was already decorated...I figured from outside- you can only see half the tree anyway, so I justified my laziness.

Who needs lunch when someone gives you a GIANT chocolate kiss? Yea...eat it, girlfriend.

Later that afternoon, we moseyed over to my parents home to have an early dinner. Santa left a surprise for Little Miss there too!! A kitchen for her "apartment" at Bub & Gran'Dads!!

Christmas spent with family...what more can you ask?

First Field Trip

Little Miss had her first field trip this week. Naturally, I was nervous about it...because that's what I do- I worry. I'd considered not attending the first trip- because it was right here in town...and it would be good for her to spread her wings...yadda yadda...then I decided I was thinking irrationally and definitely needed to chaperone.

The kindergarteners took the activity bus over to the Island Farm...which was a much bigger deal than the field trip itself. Who doesn't love a bus ride?! Little Miss was thrilled to tell me all about it when we met at the welcome center of the farm. 

Sidenote: Parents had to pay separately. I had prepared for this & stuck cash in my purse. But apparently they only take correct change!? Um, really? No change for a $20!? What's a girl to do?

We've visited the Island Farm on several occasions. Little Miss enjoys it...but the chickens and roosters always freak her out. They are very social and will trot right over to you! (And I mean, step-on-your-toes, right over to you!) Maybe she is sensing my nervousness around them. When I was little, we had a duck named Peaches. (Yes, I named her. She was my easter present.) Peaches was evil. She had no idea she was a duck, she was quite sure she was a guard dog, of sorts. She would chase people out of our yard- and if you weren't quick enough, she'd bite you...and draw blood. So I'm always kind of leery around big birds...they're kind of gangster, you know?

Baby Lilly didn't mind the chickens.

After a presentation by a man who was slightly less friendly than the chickens/roosters he was discussing, the kiddos were allowed to pet a hen. Little Miss looked on as her friends and teachers touched her...while she kept her hands firmly placed in her lap. 

For the last few weeks, Little Miss has been telling me about her 'boyfriend' Alonso. I met the little fella yesterday and can tell he's quite smitten with her. He stuck right to her during the whole trip. She got a little embarrassed when I asked to take a photo of the two of them. Can you tell?

After chowing down on some squished PB&J, Little Miss climbed back onto the bus and went back to school. I followed the bus and honked like a maniac when they turned back into her school. That's right...I'm that mom.

Bullies

Bullies. Whether we were being bullied or doing the bullying, we all have a memory from our childhood involving a bully.

When Little Miss started preschool, one of the first questions I asked was if she could name the "bully" kid in her classroom. For the first year, she wasn't sure exactly what that meant. Last year, the definition became more clear to her. There was a bully in her classroom who bullied everyone, including the teachers, but not her. Why? I have absolutely no idea. (Maybe he heard she was from Brooklyn? That her daddy is a rapper? That her grandaddy has guns? Who knows.) She would tell me the tales of what the bully had done each day...and would end her story with an I'm glad he's not mean to me! I was too.

Now she's in the "big" school...with lots of bigger kids. I had the same fears that I had when she began preschool regarding bullies. What if someone picks on her? Will she know how to handle it? Will she tell her teacher? Last week, she came home with a bully tale from the playground. Apparently, a little boy came up to Little Miss and her gal-pals and attempted to bully them. I have yet to get the straights out of what said bully did exactly, but supposedly it ended with Little Miss smacking him, knocking him down and her best friend kicking him. The girls were caught by a teacher & reprimanded...until they explained to the teacher they were "handling a bully" situation. The teacher told them, for future reference, calling over a teacher would be the best way to handle a bully situation.
I was proud that Little Miss handled her own against a bully...even if she did handle it to the extreme. (She's her father's daughter...what can I say?)

The scary thing about bullies is that with social media- they now have a voice like never before. No matter what age you are...if you piss someone off- look the wrong way or just simply, aren't friends with this-one or that-one...cyber bullies will be all over you. They'll so bravely write about you from their homes...hiding behind their computers. (Sometimes without even saying your name.) I can laugh at this...because I'm a grown up. But I can absolutely see how so many young teens have been pushed over the edge by cyber bullies. It is SO sad.

Teach your kiddos to be kind...lend a helping hand...smile at their school mates. And I will try to teach mine not to smack the next bully who walks her way...;-)

Arguing

Ask anyone. I can argue until the cows come home. I never tire or weaken my argument...I only grow stronger. I can argue until my opposer tosses their hands in the air in frustration and gives up...then I will consider arguing the point of why it took us so long to realize I'm.Always.Right.

Ask my friends...ask my mom...ask the man at the grocery store who attempted to tell me there was no banana yogurt in the box he was stocking the refrigerated shelves with- I will win. (And I'll win with yogurt!)

That being said...while arguing doesn't typically phase me- arguing with a tiny clone of myself, does. Little Miss doesn't choose her battles...she clearly wants to challenge the man at the grocery store who seems to think her mother is an arguing maniac. She thinks I'm a wimp. She sees my skills and throws fire on them. She will argue over any.thing.

I remember my first argument with my mother. (Well, it may not have been the first argument with her- but it was the first time I realllly pissed her off during an argument.) I want to say I was in first grade...and I believe the argument was over something silly like brushing my teeth.

Silly little argument...mmhmm, you're now rounding the bend to bite me in the arse, eh? I see ya. Oh and Hello, Karma...glad you could join us too.

School mornings begin with sweet cuddles from Little Miss in her bed. We get the clothes down that we've picked out from the night before...and it starts.

"These socks don't match!" Little Miss demands.

"They're pink. You're wearing pink...it matches," I respond.

"It's not the same pink!"

"Well, it coordinates...come on- lets go brush you're hair, monkey."

"I am changing my socks! These look horrible!"

I consider swapping coffee for wine...but know I'll never pull it off.

We argue over the color of the socks back and forth until finally...she decides she will just wear shoes that cover the socks. (While cursing me and calling me color blind in her head, I'm sure.)

In a few short moments, we're out the door and on our way to school. Hugs and kisses commence and before I know it- my little girl is sitting in a classroom full of kindergarteners and I'm? Crying in my truck because we fought over socks. SOCKS.

I argue with myself in my head...I should've just let her change & not argued. But what is that teaching her? That she can spend 30 minutes changing socks in the morning before school to find the perfect color hue to match her shirt? Doesn't that just promote child OCDs? Is that even a thing?

The afternoon rolls around and Little Miss bounds into the truck like a kitten with a ball of yarn. She's thrilled to see me and tell me all about her day. I'm thrilled to hear about every tiny detail. (Even the day she apparently beat up a boy on the playground for being a bully. Thats a post in itself.)

We get home and begin homework. Yes, kindergarteners have homework too...and since Little Miss went to preschool for 3 years- it should be a breeze for her, right?

We begin with a name-writing worksheet. I think it will be a piece of cake because...again, she was in preschool- homegirl can write her name with her eyes closed. But now, she is asked to write the letters a certain way- not just to make them look like letters.

"I can write them however...it looks the same," she tells me.

"Well, your teachers are suggesting we practice doing it this way- so we can-"

"They hate my handwriting! I want to write it my way! The way I have always done it!" she interrupts.

She's slightly more dramatic than I am. She goes from zero to hysterical in less than 2 seconds.

We work with the letter y...since it is in her name. We practice over and over...and finally, she stops arguing, opens her brain and realizes it's not difficult. But you have to try...

So our days in the B home have been a little trying. But we will get through it because clearly...we're fighters. ;-)

The Big K

Today, my little girl...my baby...the one I feel like I just yesterday gave birth to...starts kindergarten.

She is so excited. We met her teacher this week and discussed the business of the big K- which in kindergarten, consists of a lot of eating, snacking then getting home safe. These were my main concerns- what if she can't open her yogurt? will she starve? what if her water bottle top gets screwed on to tight & she can't open it!? WHO WILL HELP HER!?! Seriously, these thoughts were going through my mind.

I felt much better after chatting with her teaching duo. They assured me they'd help her with her lunch and make sure she got to me safely in the afternoon. They also promised that in a few weeks, she'd be able to walk herself into the classroom from the curb. I may or may not have looked at them in absolute horror. By herself?! Walk into the school...alone?! I know there will be other adult teachers and the principal will be standing right there by the big doors but...seriously?!? ALONE!? I felt like I needed to find a paper bag to breathe into.

While I was getting all the business explained to me, Little Miss explored the classroom. By the time I was finished, she was ready to spend the day. This also put my mind at ease. (Something else that puts my mind at ease? Her assistant teacher has known me since I was a wee-one...she babysat me. Love me a small town!!)

Little Miss can't wait to begin her real first day...and I'm excited to hear all about it! :-) Oh, and did I mention her BFF is in her class!? She is. We're super excited about that too!

Dear Little Miss: Graduation

Dear Little Miss,

Tonight, you'll put on your white cap and gown. You'll stand up in front of a room full of (mostly) strangers and read a book, all by yourself. You'll walk across the stage and take your diploma from your teachers...and you'll graduate preschool.

I can't believe this day is already here. It really seems like just yesterday that I nervously called your preschool for the first time- shortly after we moved from Brooklyn to Kill Devil Hills. I was comforted by a very kind voice, who answered all my questions...and I knew this was the place for us- for you. I knew they would prepare you for kindergarten- but would hold you and hug you when you needed to be a baby, even just for a moment. That's exactly what we've seen over the last 3 years...love, kindness, teaching, and did I mention love?

I remember your first day- it wasn't the first day of the school year...which made it a little more difficult on us both. All the other kids knew each other, as did all the other parents- we were the new kids on the block. Your teachers held us both when we had tough mornings. As confident as you were at home, you were very shy and quiet at school. You refused to eat snack or even drink water with your classmates.

Your next year of preschool began with extreme excitement because...we could walk to school! You were welcomed by friends from your previous year of school. Some of the same anxieties were there for both of us- but the familiar faces, room and routine helped us hug and kiss goodbye. This year I saw you grow into your own little person more than ever before. You had your own little crew of friends to pal around with- but if I was around, you'd still rather hang with me. You began accomplishing morning table work with minimal help from me and your teachers. You had your first 'time out' in school this year- for throwing a dollhouse at a little girl who is now one of your good friends. 

This year, your first day of school was all excitement- and not just because we could walk to school. You were excited to learn. You were excited to see your friends- many of which you'd been in school with for the last few years- but some you'd met in other activities outside of school. You were excited to show me what you could do with your table work- and this time, you didn't need my help at all. You grabbed the paint brush and painted that big A like you'd been dreaming about it. You wrote your name on your own and moved on to the next table...with your best friend at your side.

This year I've watched you do so many firsts. We went on your first field trip to Disney On Ice and to the Norfolk Zoo. We had many play-dates in the afternoon with your friends...who (thankfully) have amazing moms who I now call my best friends. Your personality has flourished. You are secure in your own skin and the confidence you have behind a microphone is baffling to me. You have the most hilarious sense of humor...and a bit of a diva attitude. (Okay, so you make JLo look like Laura Ingells.)  You even decided who you plan to marry- and I am pretty sure you even have a few back ups, just in case.

Don't rush life, little one...you have so much to enjoy ahead of you. You're going to learn so many new things at your new school- and in time, you'll be just as comfortable there as you were at your preschool. Keep your strong will and don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't do something...you can do anything you put your mind to- and if you ever don't feel comfortable doing something, use that same strong will to say no.

You're my everything. I'm so proud of you every second of every day...but today- I'm overflowing with pride and joy.

I love you with all my heart.

-Mama

Tiny Dancer

Every Monday since the fall, Little Miss has joined the girls at Dare County Parks & Rec for dance practice. They have tapped and ballet'd and plea- um, well- you get the idea. Since the first day of practice this year, Little Miss has asked when- oh, when- will her dance recital be?! How much longer?

She was ready to jump up on the stage and dance her toes off. Stage fright? Pah-lease. 

Last year, her Bub stayed in the backstage area with her- but this year, Little Miss hung out with her girls and the backstage-mom all by herself. (This may not seem like a lot- but these little girls, with the help of the backstage mama/saint, have to change into a whole new outfit...and quickly.)

After lots of kisses were exchanged, I made my way out to the auditorium to find a seat. (Okay, I cried a little too.)

Raindrops are falling on my head!!

My little ballerina!

Next year, Little Miss has decided she'd like to learn some hiphop dance routines. She's ready for her official b-girl status. Yo yo yo...whaaad uuuup ;-)

All Sorts of Crazy

Tis the season...for what? You might ask. Well apparently, tis the season for hysterical meltdowns, that's what. I'm going to tell you a little story about the day I made just about anyone and everyone I encountered super uncomfortable.

It's May- which is the end of Little Miss's career as a preschooler. It seems like just yesterday I made the phone call to get her enrolled just after her 3rd birthday. On this particular morning, I was shooting her preschool's graduation photos...with...their...caps and gowns. (Is anyone else already tearing up? Just me?) I handled it relatively well until I saw my little preschooler in her cap and gown. Her entire school career flashed before my eyes and I saw her walking across the stage at Waterside Theater- just as I did when I graduated high school. (It didn't help that we were shooting the photos right next to Waterside Theater. Brilliant idea, photographer.) I put my sunglasses on and managed to keep it together enough that I don't think anyone realized I was totally losing my shit. After individual pictures, the class went back to school to get ready for the big group shot and I ran up to the barn to give Broadway his breakfast.

We all know what an animal fruit loop I am, right? It's been discussed? I have a lot of animals and treat them all like they're less furry and have two legs? Yea, that's pretty much it.

Broadway has been moving considerably better since he got his Christian Louboutin's on his feet. (That's what I call his fancy heart bar shoes.) I was thrilled to see his progress- he was no longer just standing out in the pasture, he was on the move! However, on this particular morning he wasn't his new-self...he was back to his old, 'I'm hurting, Fix it for me' self. He was propping his leg out and practically pointing to his hoof. I know this may seem expected- and I should've expected it. Broadway went from practically lame to "healed" in a matter of days. Why wouldn't I expect a setback or two? Because I don't want setbacks- I don't want it to take weeks- I want him fixed NOW. He's been through so very much- from weight issues to an issue that only geldings can suffer from that I won't go into details with on my blog, to arthritis issues, to hoof issues...and now more? Seriously, how much more can we go through? 

I sat down in the dirt and cried. I cried because I couldn't fix him. I cried because of all he's been through. I cried because I was terrified that this was it. This was going to be the one thing I couldn't fix...and I was going to lose him. Yes, I went there. A leg prop and sad eyes took me to that place. I was certain this was the end.

I pulled myself together and headed off to do the preschool group photo. I couldn't tell anyone why my makeup was smudged all over my face- I could't find the words to say it out loud. The only thing I could manage to find were tears. 

In between the group photo and pickup time, I read my friend Laura's blog. Escaping into someone else's world was just what the doctor ordered. I read this post and laughed so hard it dried my tears. (Thank you, Laura for spraying your husband in the mouth with a water hose.)

I thought I was starting to feel okay. I'd left a message with the vet and the tech I spoke with felt like Broadway was having a normal setback and everything was probably fine. (But she thought I needed to be on medication- because you know, I cried when I told her what was happening with him.) I "cowgirl'd up" and went inside to get Little Miss....totally avoiding eye contact with everyone and managed to make it back to the car without crying. Sweet.

Then the phone rang. It was one of my favorite people- another mom of a graduating preschooler, an awesome friend...who thought I was mad at her.

I instantly broke out into hysterically crying...which, I'm sure, made it nearly impossible for her to understand me. But bless her heart- she listened to me, told me I wasn't crazy and comforted me by saying she knew everything would be okay. I believed her, it was going to be okay.

Little Miss and I picked up my daddy for lunch and ran into another sweet friend of ours...who is a pool genius and is turning our "pond" in our backyard back into a pool. (Seriously, she's amazing. It was so gross even snakes were disgusted by it.) She is an animal person like myself...obviously she is b/c she braves the dobermans in the backyard to reach the pool the snakes are afraid of. I left her to work her magic and told her I have my phone if she needs me.

Except Little Miss was playing a game on said phone and shut the sound off...so I didn't hear her call when she called to say the dogs (2 of the 3) had gotten out...of the backyard...that they never leave.

Holy hell. I screamed at a waiter "I NEED MY CHECK!" like a mad woman. All I could picture was Sassy and Calvin (Zorro was in the house) as road kill. They are protective, they are wonderful guard dogs...but street smart? Pahaha, no. Cars? They're fun things to dart in front of, right?! I was trying my hardest to not freak the hell out because 1) I was in a restaurant with my father and daughter and 2) I was with my daughter...who adores these dogs and 3) Let's face it, Little Miss is her mother's child- she was already thinking the worst.

I ran to the car, dragging Little Miss and took off. The restaurant happened to be less than a minute away from my house but it seemed like forever. I prayed I would round the corner and see them waiting for me- but no. I grabbed Zorro & set out running screaming (and crying at this point) "SASSY!! CALVIN!! COME HOME, BABIES!" (This would be the moment all of my neighbors confirmed that I was all sorts of crazy.) The mail lady happened to be delivering our mail and told me she thought my dogs were at the elementary school...probably terrifying children by their vicious licks. I started running towards the school and when I rounded the corner...what did I see? Two little dobies, running wide open (but so close together they looked like they were attached) tongues waggin', legs all over the place. I was so thrilled to see them that at first I wasn't mad at all. Shortly after their return, I found out they not only went to the elementary school- but also to a lawyers office on the main road....then I grounded them. Our pool whisperer was such a help- she drove all over town looking for them. Only a true animal person would do that...she was just as worried as I was.

So now that my day from hell is over...I can laugh at myself a little. It wasn't until today that I was able to do that though. The vet called me from a neighboring town this morning- he had to come down here for an emergency and wanted to see if I'd like to have Broadway checked out. Um, yes, please. Turns out- he had an abscess in his hoof that was trying its best to make its way out- but the Christina Louboutin's were putting a stop to it. Once the vet removed his shoe on the "bad" leg- the abscess burst and he instantly felt much better.

And so did I. 

The Big K

Today was a big day in the B house. Kindergarten registration.

As we walked through the halls of the school I attended as a wee-one, my heart climbed right up to my throat. The school has been totally remodeled- all except for the library, which is ironically where we had to register. So many memories flooded my brain as we entered the room that seemed so enormous when I was a student there. Little Miss was too excited to notice what I was doing. She soaked in the paintings on the wall, the teachers outfits, the books....oh, the books! Little Miss loves to read- and I'm not trying to brag but...okay, I am. She can read- like for reals read, ya'll. So she was pretty fascinated by the walls of books that surrounded us.

I filled out the paperwork (that apparently I could've done before we got there, whoops) and one of the kindergarten teachers asked Little Miss a few questions. Colors, shapes, letters, numbers- the normal stuff. Then the teacher asked her to turn the paper over and draw a picture or maybe write her name- whatever she was comfortable doing. Little Miss broke out all the crayons and homegirl drew a masterpiece. The teacher chuckled. When she was finished, she asked me how to spell the teacher's name. The teacher looked at me puzzled like, "She can't spell her own name? Really, you just said the kid can read?!" She peeped over the table to find "To: Mrs. ____ From: Riya" already written.

"She's so ready. She'll do wonderful- you don't have to worry about a thing."

Should I have warned the teachers that Little Miss thinks she'll be teaching kindergarten with them? Nah, we'll save that for the first day.

Preschool!

Little Miss started her last year of preschool today! She was to-the-moon with excitement until we got ready to walk out the door.

"I don't know...Ummm, I am a little nervous and I think I should go back inside and go back to sleep for a little while," she told me.

She totally knows the way to her mother's heart- sleep. Offer sleep & see what happens.

Once we got to the school, I saw this adorable little sign- welcoming us back to preschool. I asked Little Miss if she'd like her photo taken & of course, she was all "umm duh, mom!"

I backed up, lifted my camera and this happened....

...those poses were totally unprompted. I did bring her personal wind machine though, in case you were wondering.

In we went, Little Miss was greeted by her BFF and I became slightly invisible.

Painting As...I was moved to tears that she hopped right to it. (No, I'm not exaggerating- that's why I brought the big camera- to capture memories and hide tears.)

      

Now she's home and ready for day number 2 tomorrow!! I'm so proud of my lil gal!!

The Split

So...here's what happened.

I meshed my two blogs together a while back- you know, I thought that would be easier to accomplish timely posts b/c I'd only have the one blog to worry about. Then, I realized that I didn't exactly want to write about my personal, personal life on my 'business' blog because- well, because I can be kind of opinionated at times. Not that I'm not open to hearing others opinions, but it's difficult to get that particular point accross when you're only expressing your own opinion. So, I split them again...and then I got to busy with work to even tell my husband about my day, much less post on my blog.

I miss writing. I've said it before, it was my first love...er, one of them. And I will tell you, the crazy stuff that goes on in this little life of ours? It's worthy of a few blog posts here and there. I think you'll laugh, I really do.

Why do I have time to write today, you may ask? I hurt my back. Yes, me and my rap-sheet worth of back problems are adding on. Yay, me. I'm not sure what exactly I did to deserve all this, but it has literally knocked me on my butt.

Let's not dwell on that.

Last night, after Little Miss had pretty much pulled out all the stops to avoid bedtime. I gave up. I kissed her head, took my pain pill and came to my own bed. A few minutes later, my presense was needed in her room. She let me know that her new baby bear, Daisy Mae, was sad. She missed her friends at Wal-Mart and needed to sleep with me. Although it was cute, it didn't win me over. I kissed her goodnight & came back to bed. She called again- I got up...again. She told me she had to tell me something.

"Mama, when I get older, I'm going to have kids...and I'm going to make them sleep in their own beds, too," she told me.

"That's good, baby. Goodnight," I said.

"No, wait. And when they get older...they're going to have their own babies too. And I think they're going to make them sleep in their own beds too."
"Uh huh," I said.

"And then I will be old. Very old........and rich!!"

I was taken back a little. Rich? I don't think I've ever said that word in her presense, much less to her. To be sure she meant she'd be rich b/c she'd have all these healthy babies and love and happiness....

"No...rich means with money. So I can buy whatever I want and stay up past my bedtime," she corrected me.

Well...apparently when she's old- she can pay me off to stay up late? That's what I took from that. See? Not necessarily the opinion I'd like future clients to read prior to meeting me.

The split was a good decision.

More Than A Fundraiser!

This past  Thursday was one of my favorite dinners of the year. And yes, it's partly because I don't exactly have to cook.

Little Miss's preschool had their annual spaghetti dinner- which funds the preschool/after-school program! The teachers start working on this even months in advance because it's profits are what helps buy supplies for the upcoming school year. The day-of, parents, grandparents and well, anyone who will agree to help, join together to cut vegetables, stir sauce, boil noodles and cut vegetables.

...and did I mention cutting vegetables? I think we should all take a moment to bow down to the largest carrots I've ever seen- much less cut!

 

 Only minor injuries were endured in the making of the above salads.

That is not my hand...but I can assure you that my hand looked no different by the time I left- thanks to the extra-sharp knives of some fisherman. (Sucker sliced through glove and all! Yowsah!)

Thankfully, my daddy was available to take over my shift so I could run home and bake my dessert for the evening. (He left with less injury, you'll be pleased to know.)

Not that we were lacking in the dessert department. Let me tell you something, these parents can bake! It was worth the money for the dinner just for the desserts! Did I mention they're all homemade? Yes, even mine...and to my knowledge, I didn't make anyone sick. (Score one for me and my cooking skills!)

This night is about more than noodles, sauce and desserts. It's more than just a fundraiser. This event brings our small community together. We're able to really visit with our neighbors, who we may only see when we're rushing to work or to run errands. It gives us a moment to look around at those who share this space with us and be thankful for their presence.

We're able to look at our children- and laugh together at their silliness. We're able to look at how they've grown since the last spaghetti dinner. We're able to take a moment to share a story about our crazy dogs. (Okay, so I was the only one sharing. But the mayor did inform me we can now have chickens in the town limits!)

While I'm sure a great deal of money was raised on this special night, nothing could be more valuable than the memories made while preparing and eating the delicious meal. Thank you, Shon & Scarlett for all your hard work all year- and particularly for the spaghetti dinner. We love you.

Straight from the horse's Miss's Mouth

"Mama, do you know what wee-wee means?"

"Well, I think it means..."
"It means pee-pee in French!"

----

"I love you more than the ocean, Mama!"

----

After a friend heard Little Miss say this:

"In your face!! Peace out, yo!"

The friend told me:

"That's hilarious- I guess you don't have to worry 'til she says In your face, sucka!!"

To which Little Miss replied:

"In you face, LOLLIPOP!" (I seriously almost wee-wee'd on myself.)

----

"Mom! Mom! Mom!" (puts hand up to her mouth) "I have to tell you something!"

----

"Mom, what was your favorite part of today? Mine was..."

----

"I'm going to dream about unicorns and mermaids, tonight...goodnight!"


----

 "Mom? Do you still love me when your face turns red? Like...when you're mad?"



----

"Look!! A Piggly Wiggly shirt!!!!"
(5 seconds later)
"Wiggly your Piggly!!!!!!!!!"

----

"Mom, I want to go to Australia and steal back Papa...let's go."

----

"Well...that lady was mean to me and you just need to karate chop her, Mama"

----

*singing* "There was an old lady who swallowed a fly....I don't know why she swallowed the fly.....UGH!! I can't work under these conditions!!!!!"

----

Oh, you just never know what my Little Miss will say. ;-)

Confessions of a Horse Lover: Decisions

The act of becoming a horse owner is possibly the cheapest and easiest decision an equine-lover will make. That's not to say that being a horse owner is a cheap or that the decisions that follow the initial purchase of your new equine friend will be extremely easy. In fact, it's quite the opposite. The decisions that follow are always complicated, costly and sometimes, heart-wrenching. 

Several months ago, I began noticing a change in my equine friend. He was more aggressive and just generally annoyed at well...everything. I felt totally responsible. I'd been busy with everything...Little Miss, work, life, etc. I thought with a little time and some extra love, he'd be back to normal in no time. I thought wrong. On several occasions, I hopped onto his back & after about 15 minutes of calm, cool, normal horse- he turned into a bucking, rearing bronco. I still felt like with some more time, he'd snap out of it. Again, wrong. (Probably because at no point during those riding experiences did I have to propel myself onto the ground.) The thought of 'giving up' on my boy wasn't an option...but then he began exhibiting the rowdy behavior when I wasn't even on his back! Even though he was getting progressively worse instead of better, I was sure we could work through it. A few weeks ago, I decided to saddle him up and take him for a spin around the block. I vowed to ride him around the block every day for a week, in hopes to 'get the funk out'. We got about 5 houses away from the barn when he reared so high I thought he was going to flip over backwards on top of me. This is no exaggeration, folks. I asked God to please...let me be able to walk again...please, don't let anything be broken that won't heal quickly. I was sure I'd be a pancake. Thankfully, he didn't flip over...oh no, he came straight down with roughly 15 bucks before I dove off into someone's front yard. (Thanks for the padded-sod, neighbors!) He stopped when I landed and looked me right in the eyes. There was no fear or embarrassment in his eyes. He had a look of accomplishment...like he'd gotten what he wanted. I got back on his back and felt like I was sitting on top of a ticking-time-bomb. His body felt like a cork, getting ready to shoot out of a champagne bottle.

My whole body ached the next day...but what hurt the most was my heart. I've considered my horse my best friend since the first moment I saw him. We've come so very far in just a year and a half to go so far back. I took it personal. I work very hard to keep him safe, healthy and happy for him to work so hard to hurt me. I knew, no matter how much time passed and how many great rides we had, I would never ever trust him around Little Miss again. The relationship between a horse and rider is much like a marriage, once the trust is broken...what's the point? 

I have had to say good-bye to horses in my lifetime...horses that meant the world to me. But when I said good-bye to them, it wasn't my choice...it was God's choice. If I could've kept them forever, I would've have never said good-bye. So, I knew this decision to say good-bye wouldn't be easy. Naturally, only the good times flooded my mind...but the trust-issue rang louder than a gong on a cable television show.

I found a place I thought would both be able to handle my bipolar horse and would keep him safe, well-fed, sheltered, etc. They trained horses and then sold them...which I was fine with- as long as no one would get hurt, particularly my equine friend. In conjunction with finding him a new home, I also found a horse who seemed to be absolutely perfect...who was ironically, boarded at the same barn.

My dad and I set out for the 5 hour drive to take my old friend, Storm to his new home and look/pick up a new friend. Storm proved he was aptly named by refusing to get into the trailer, almost trampling me numerous times and taking his halter off not once, but twice on the westward drive. My nerves were shot by the time we arrived....in the dark...in the rain. It set my mind at ease that the new owners were excited to meet Storm & weren't nervous about his spirited personality. They had a beautiful barn, filled with horses who seemed well-fed and content...all except for one. 

The largest of the stalled steeds, who was the only one wearing a blanket, was walked into the aisle way to be introduced to me. His kind eyes and large body reminded me of my Brandy- the horse who still holds my heart, even from heaven. I blew in his nose, his ears perked up- as if my story was flooding his brain. He nuzzled my vest as his current owner took his blanket off of him. My heart sunk. He was incredibly underweight. I could tell he'd been eating something but not what he should. I stopped hearing what his owner was telling me and started hearing him...I need you. 

As much as he needed me, I needed him to need me. Storm stopped needing or wanting me- I had become old news to him. Maybe he needed a herd? Maybe he needed a cart-job? Maybe he needed...something else? This new boy just needed love...and someone who really cared. Someone who cared enough to research what food he needed and not just chalk his weight-loss up to 'he's just not hungry'. He needed to be treated like a pet a little more than just a horse. 

I climbed onto the new boy's back and rode him around the barn in the rain. He did everything I asked him to do, almost before I asked him to. I heard a horse holler from the barn as we rode- it was Storm. At that moment, I wished I knew what he was saying to me. He knew he was being traded. He knew he wasn't mine anymore. It broke my heart.

I got the new fella into the trailer and walked back into the barn one last time. I had to fight back the tears- God knows I won't cry in front of a perfect stranger...they have to think I'm tough as nails. I grabbed his red halter one last time, kissed him and told him good-bye. He looked at me with his wild eyes and sighed. I walked back to the truck alone and the tears flowed down my face.

"That was hard," I said as I climbed into the driver's seat.

"Why, honey?" my daddy asked.

"Because...I love him," I told him, hardly getting the words out before my silent tears turned into sobbing.

"He's going to be safe here. This is the best place for him. You can't get hurt on him, baby...you have Riya to think about." 

"I know...I know...but it's still so hard, Daddy."

I cried until we got back out to the main road. I knew I made the right decision- and I felt like, no matter what kind of people these folks were (b/c I'd gotten the feeling they were a little shady) they'd be able to handle Storm. 

The days that followed were difficult. I kept slipping up and calling the new boy, Storm, instead of his actual name. (Which I'm changing...to something. Ideas?) Along with the weight issue, I noticed some weaknesses here and there with him. I attempted to call his previous owner...interestingly enough, she refused all my calls. (All that is a post in-itself. Let's just say...I hope the previous owner takes a ride on Storm.;-)

The vet will be coming to the barn on Tuesday to check out my new fella. I'm praying that everything will be fine, but am prepared for the worst. Well...maybe not the worst but I'm prepared for a less than perfect report. Say a prayer for us? This new fella and I are already fast friends...his kind eye and calm heart have stolen mine. I can't wait to see what the future holds for us...but for now, I'm praying just for healthy.

In it for the Cookies

Several weeks ago, Little Miss came home from preschool singing some lovely new holiday tunes. How did I know she learned these at preschool without even so much as asking her? Simple. She sang each word to each song with the exact accent of her teacher. So it was no surprise that she was delighted to head over to her preschool a few days ago for her big Christmas program.

Sidenote: I purchased an adorable Christmas outfit for her to wear to her program- complete with an embroidered Christmas tree on the top. Although it wasn't a dress, which is basically the only thing Little Miss will wear, I hoped that since it was pink...maybe, just maybe, she'd be thrilled with it. No dice, amigo. She plainly looked at the adorable outfit and said "Mom, that is not a dress. I'm not wearing it. I have to wear a dress." Thankfully, her Bub saw all this playing out long before I purchased the adorable Christmas outfit and purchased a zebra dress for her to wear...just in case.

Thanks, Bub. You saved the day.

It started snowing just as we left the house. Could you ask for better weather when you're heading to a Christmas program? I think not! Big, fluffy flakes filled the sky (and stuck to absolutely nothing) as we made our way over to the preschool building. Little Miss was so excited to perform...right up until we walked into her classroom. She agreed to go sit by her teacher, so long as she could face the opposite direction.

New friends and old filed into the classroom. Little Miss decided she'd be a bit social and join the crowd of little people.

But that only lasted a few moments. When the other parents began filing in for the big show, Little Miss high-tailed it into her Gran'Daddy's lap.

After the big show, Little Miss was off to visit with her friends. Her shyness wore right off- just in time for the singing and bell-ringing to be over. I was able to snap a few photos of a couple of my favorite gals, Sydnee and Amie, by the Christmas tree! I've known Amie forever...and now our girls can say the same. ;-)

Who needs singing and bell-ringing, anyway? Little Miss was just in it for the Christmas tree cookies. ;-) And...there is always next year!!

Simply Magical

The holidays are here! It's official- the town Christmas tree has been lit!

One thing I love about living in our small, island town is the small, island festivities. This past Friday, we joined hundreds of local folks to lite the town Christmas tree, sing carols, drink hot chocolate, freeze our tails off, and of course, to meet a jolly ole elf...the jolly ole elf. It was a wonderful time.

It's always a joy to see how Little Miss changes from year to year in regards to Santa Claus. One year she's absolutely terrified, the next year she thinks he's okay as long as I'm in his lap too, but this year? Oh this year she was all

about it. (Particularly because, jolly ole Saint Nick? He looks a heckuva lot like my uncle, Little Miss's great-uncle, Big Gully.)

She insisted on showing Santa the bow on the front of her sparkly dress...in true flasher style. (A dress she fought tooth and nail to wear...) She then told him she would like two fashion Barbies, one for her and one for her Bub...and the Santa movie. ("You know, the one they made about you, Santa.") She could hardly fall asleep that night- talking about how amazing it was to meet Santa. Simply magical.