Graduation day and such

There's a physical disconnect that occurs around the time a child turns four. They no longer need the rocking a newborn requires, the toting a non-walking infant demands, the coddling a toddler desires or even the reassuring babying a three-year-old craves. Four brings a bit of independence that's more sincere than the "I do it" desires a two-year-old projects.

Self reliance seems to become more real at four. The "I can stir it by myself" quip becomes a demonstrated skill while baking. And when she leaves the house with her little pink sequined purse, it returns home all in her own doing.

It's the age of "Mom, how do you spell (fill in the blank here)." She keeps a journal, after all. The age of selecting her own clothes for the day, and asking if dad has the "ability" and "availability" to doctor the blister on her heel.

And while hugs are highlights here and there, and sleepy eyes may predict tears and the need for a few sways in the rocking chair on my lap to overcome a bump in her day, the time she requires my holding her is merely a fraction of what it once was.

There's so much to do and see and play and learn. There are her own "babies" to take care of, the lessons she must teach the younger kids while pretending to be Miss Mandy and the small chores around the house that she undertakes at no one's request. All this leaves less time for holding.

In place of this lost physical contact, however, has grown the very best friend a mom could wish for. Someone who asks "Mom, are you okay?" if I grow quiet. Someone who sees the disappointment in my face when she's done something wrong. Someone who runs to hug me when she's done something great, and revels in her own power when she's done something so incredibly wonderful that it brings tears to my eyes.

As I've realized time and time again in this raising children gig, she's growing up. But at this juncture, it's not just up that she's growing. It's out and in and down too. Her self-esteem is now glaringly visible, her intelligence is overwhelmingly present and her creativity is relentless in its need for nurturing. She's a person all on her own. Separate.

So on this graduation-from-four-year-old preschool day, while she becomes less and less a part of me physically, she grows closer and closer to my heart as her own person. Alena, you make me happy, you make me proud ... I love you.

It's not such a zoo out there

Me: "Well, we're back from the zoo."

Jason: "So how was it?"

Me: "Actually, pretty enjoyable."

Jason: "Who did you go with?" (Implying in his question that it couldn't possibly have been with the kids if I was being remotely upbeat.)

This was the start of the conversation Jason and I had yesterday afternoon after the kids and I arrived home after five hours at the Cincinnati Zoo. Alone. Together. By myself with the animals (I'm talking about the elephants and giraffes here).

For anyone now shaking their heads and pitying our children for our sarcasm, please be reminded that the divorce rate among parents of multiples is at least double that of the general populace (without factoring in the stress of two older children to boot). The fact that we're going to the zoo, talking about the zoo, joking about the zoo should garner points for our disparaging ways. Like it or not, it works.

Ridiculing aside, our zoo adventure was a tangible lesson in the total shift we've undergone in the last year. The move from surviving to thriving. From just making it to actually enjoying it.

A year ago, a trip to the zoo with all four kids required another adult's help, patience not possessed by most people I know and much sleep and/or alcohol after returning home. It. Was. Exhausting. Grueling beyond the point of being anywhere near enjoyable.

Fast forward twelve months and the word "enjoyable" was the first that came to mind in describing my solo zoo mission with the quartet. Given the obvious facts that I'm a year older, pounds heavier and steps slower, the "enjoyable" outcome of our trip must be that my fellow zoo goers are becoming more manageable.

We strolled along, walking together. Everyone was able to see the things they wanted to see, and do the things they wanted to do. There existed a spirit of cooperation among them that doesn't usually surface within the confines of our house. They enjoyed each other's company and got along.

They were thrilled with the day out and learned elephant poop is big; goats are fun to feed; and "cockatoo" is fun to say. I was thrilled with the day out and learned Trace loves the zoo; I sometimes forget how fun our kids are; and a renewal of our zoo membership is a must.

Kissing cousins

Introducing the first photo of Alivia, Trace, Alena AND Alysse with their newest, smallest cousin, Kolten. This little guy is the coolest kid on the block as far as his cousins are concerned.

Alena is contemplating a move two hours north when she turns six to help take care of him (she had previously told me she'd go to kindergarten, but was then going to get a job), and Trace whispers "I love you" as he holds him.

Happy looking

Ahhh, sunshine and spring temperatures make for happy kids. Happy kids who can be outside flying kites, riding big wheels and kicking back. All of it producing smiles, squeals and fun.

Alena enjoying some rays.
The guys sticking together.
Alysse breaking in her new Ariel big wheel.
The thing even blows bubbles.
Alivia manning her Minnie and Mickey Mouse kite.
She was quite taken with the whole kite flying concept.

Footage from the Scott Family Speedway.

Doing

The last week has been spent ...

enjoying :: that each one of the kids would rather play outside than in when the sun is shining.

wondering :: how such a slob came from my loins (yes, mother, I realize you too must have wondered this).

savoring :: Alysse's need to be one of the girls, but a marcher to the beat of her own drum at the same time.

teaching :: no, that Cheerio found underneath your seat in the car is not an acceptable snack.

admiring :: how Alivia sees the world ... each gold finch at a time.

pondering :: how it is that I immediately know the thrower of the orange peel that flew into my lap during lunch(from the opposite end of the table, nonetheless).

cooking :: new recipe after new recipe from www.thepioneerwoman.com (if I turn up missing, I've run off to Oklahoma to meet this woman).

refereeing :: fights, disagreements and wars. Why is it that a long-forgotten toy always becomes the most popular when it's found in someone else's hands?

planting :: the window boxes are back, people.

vacuuming :: the endless supply of sequins and paper bits that are the byproduct of preschool artwork.

watching :: Trace with his new John Deere tractor and wagon. Tears are shed each time he must part with it ... the boy L-O-V-E-S this thing.

reading :: our newest favorite, "Martha Doesn't Say Sorry!" (not sure if it's a good sign or a bad sign that this resonates so well).

loving :: that I've already heard the "secret" song Alena and her classmates will sing to their moms during Friday's upcoming "Muffins with Mom" event.