The school nurse.

She is wonderful. Truly. I want to bring her gifts with heart-shaped cards and make her sweet treats to show my appreciation for her. I’ve never met her in person but I feel like my family is cared about by an incredibly patient and kind soul. I think it’s one of the many reasons the kids always want to see her for the smallest boo-boo and I don’t blame them. She gives them comfort, care, a bandage or ice and then she calls me, which means they get to talk on the phone – at school – to mommy.

Of course, they also go to her for legitimate reasons. When I get the call that they don’t feel well, Andrew or I will leave work and scoop them up for TLC. Today though, her number appeared and I ended up asking the nurse if she thought it would be ok if Nia stayed. She said yes because Nia didn’t have a fever. Despite her guidance, I felt like I needed the nurse because I felt terrible.

I know Nia wasn’t harming herself or others by being there. She was probably just uncomfortable. She had a cough and said she had a headache but was acting fine otherwise. When the nurse put Nia on the phone, I asked her if she could stick it out. She said yes but her voice was so sad.

I thought to myself, if I was still a stay-at-home mom, I would get her in a second. Pull her out of school and cuddle with her while watching her favorite laugh-track shows. Then I thought, that could be a bad thing because I would always run to rescue them. Even if I didn’t really need to. Even if they should (are well enough to) stick it out.

I am thankful for the nurse to advise me. I also use resources like this and this when I’m not so sure about whether they should be in school. Yes, there is also the motherly instinct, but I think I would use that one too instinctively, for sure.

By the way, if I trusted my instincts today, they would’ve been wrong. When I picked Nia up at the end of the day, she was feeling a-ok. And I’m so glad for that.

*One other resource:
I also thought this has some good info about different kinds of coughs.

***

How old is the president? He looks in his 30′s. You guys look like you’re in your 20′s. He looks like maybe 32 or 35.

***

He’s not afraid to talk in front of all those people? Every seat is filled. Is everyone there from Congress?

***

There’s the First Lady! Does the woman next to the First Lady know the camera is on her?

***

That guy (in the audience) is crooked smiling. Why?

***

Without teachers, who would teach you? That’s what he’s saying.

***

That man had a “D” next to his name.

Me: Do you know what that stands for?

Dem – dem – demo…

Me: Do you know what the “R” stands for?

Revolutionary War?

(We then told her the correct names.)

***

Andrew: There’s Senator Rockefeller. He’s from West Virginia.

Is he your friend?

***

I think Obama is a good president.

Andrew: Why?

Because he smiles when he talks.

(Andrew discussed why that is nice and may show that he’s a good person but there’s more involved with being a good president.)

***

Why isn’t that man smiling?

Me: Maybe he doesn’t agree with what President Obama is saying.

Maybe he’s a Republican. Not a – what’s it called? – a dem – dem – democracy? Dem something.

Me: Democrat.

I was close! I said democracy!

***

For a speaker, he’s not speaking at all.

 Me: You mean the Speaker of the House? Well, it doesn’t really work that way and it’s not his turn.

***

Me: (just curious about her response) Should a person who makes one million dollars give 30% of it away?

No. They should give 50%. Half.

Andrew: Should they be forced to give it or do it because they want to?

Because they want to.

Andrew: Why?

Because it’s the right thing to do.

Andrew: What if they chose not to give? Should they be forced to give?

No. They just aren’t nice people though.

Andrew: A Libertarian is born!

What does that mean?! I don’t know what that means! (Laughing.)

***

They are all clapping.

Me: That’s because he quoted Abraham Lincoln and people like Lincoln.

Everyone should.

***

That guy had an “I” by his name. What’s that mean?

Me: Independent Party. Democrat and Republican are the big ones and then there’s the Independent and Libertarian Parties. Daddy, and even mommy, consider ourselves Libertarian.

Is that what me and Nate are?

Me: That will be up to you, baby. When you grow up, you will decide that.

Can you be more than one Party?

Me: It’s all in what you believe. If you agree with different things from each then yes. Or you may believe with one Party more but like a person from a different one because you think he/she will make a good leader.

Can you be all of them?

Me: It’s fine to change your mind.

***

Interrupted 85 times? By who?

Me: The applause.

Oh. (Chuckle.) They must love Obama, huh?

Me: Some do, yes.

***

He kissed all the girls. He’s just kissing random girls!

Me: What do you think about that?

It’s how some people give peace, like we do in church.

(This made me cry.)

***

Could kids be there now?

Me: Probably. Would you want to be there?

Yes, to meet Barack Obama.

Nate was so enamored with Little Gaga that he announced to the class during a Thanksgiving lesson that he is most thankful for her. (His teacher emailed me about the sweetness.)

Turns out, the feeling is mutual. Her mom tells me that she “just loves Nate” and that she recently put him as no. 89 in her “Favorite 100 Things” book because there are 89 different reasons she likes him. She also saves every drawing Nate gives her and has them hanging in her room. This one was the first:

Nate will reassure us that they are not boyfriend and girlfriend. “I’m too young for that,” he maturely states and then turns his head down to the side to hide his grin.

I smile too, remembering a note to her that said, “I love you because you are nice to me.” So pure. So important. Such a beautiful reason to love someone. I hope he always thinks about that when it comes to his future “real” girlfriends. Loving the inside as much as the Lady Gaga.

Both kids are big fans of the Nickelodeon music group, Big Time Rush. I even followed them on facebook so I would know if and when they were going to tour near us. After months of other seeing other cities schedule them, I finally heard they were going to be a part of an Atlanta radio station’s annual concert called Jingle Jam. Deciding that Nate was still too little for a school night show with other music groups he wouldn’t know, I only bought two tickets. (Nia asked to buy a special concert swag bracelet for her brother though. And of course, scored her first concert tee. Very cool.)

She was excited to be there but I thought she would be, well, a tad more excited. This is the point I determined she takes after her daddy when it comes to such things. My first concert (yes, New Kids on the Block) had me screaming and in tears. There were quite a few girls around us who were doing just that. My Nia though, she just smiled and occasionally, quietly, sang along. I am impressed with her sophistication and restraint. Or maybe she was just so in awe of it all. Or too young yet…

Whatever it was, she was happy – and I only screamed once to show her it was ok to scream. She looked at me like I was goofy and then laughed. What can I say? Their songs are pretty catchy.

• As soon as Nate wakes up, as in the first sliver of an eye-opening, he whispers a song about counting by two’s. That mixed with a few sweet yawns and my heart melted.
• Nate gets really freaked out when his foot, leg, arm or hand falls asleep. We were driving at the time and he woke up in a fit of fear and fury that I’ve never seen from him. We had no idea what to do for him other than tell him it will be over soon. That feeling must be so weird and scary for a little kid. I know I hate it.
• Nia is finally feeling the woes of big sisterdom. There was a point in our travels when Nia and Nate were playing air hockey and I heard her scream at him, “You are just stupid!” (If you know us pretty well, you know that “s” word is gasped at like it is one of the biggie bad words.) I made her leave the game and sit out for some time. When she was finally calm enough to talk to me, she said with tears in her eyes, “He just kept bragging about doing good and I couldn’t take it anymore.” I know I should’ve stayed in discipline mom-mode but I ended up sympathizing with her – after not being able to hide my smile. She sounded so grown up in that moment. Just trying to figure out how to handle things. We talked more about other ways to deal with frustrating situations and then she and Nate hugged and apologized to each other. I will never forget her face though. Full of drama and seriousness. Confused but also feeling justified in her reaction. Growing up is tough, kid. We’re all figuring it out.

• This learning is not pretty - that’s a warning – but I was still impressed by what I witnessed. Nate is very courteous when he vomits. He felt sick as we were just taking off on our trip and he told us in enough time that we were able to pull over for him to exit the car. He then leaned far over to make sure he didn’t get any on his clothes or shoes. I didn’t get grossed out because I was so amazed by how he handled himself through that experience. I would have been crying and probably would’ve lost it in the car. Maybe it was luck and not skill but what I witnessed that day needed noted.
• Nia loves laser tag. Nate does not. Nia went back for another round. Nate ran out of the first round in tears. (Poor buddy.)
• My little girl showed me her tough side during a nature walk one afternoon. She picked up a stick and then acted like a “warrior princess” and totally whipped up on some leaves and trees. It was intensely fun.

I love getting to spend devoted time like that with the kids. It may not be all laughs and sweet moments, but they are still special and important glimpses into their personalities. “I just couldn’t take it anymore.” I’m sure we’re going to hear that more in the coming years.

I thought if I would tell him all the things I love about him, he would calm his frustration over not getting to stay up a little later. Nothing like this has happened before with Nate so I was not counting on it. Especially since he had just thrown a beat-down on his pillow and tried to wedge himself against the wall and his bed to make it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. After walking away and giving him a moment, I spoke to him softly and rubbed his hair. Then, amazingly, I heard his quiet breath take on a sleep rhythm.

I told him he was such a cool kid. That he was smart, sweet and so incredibly full of heart. That I love how he tries so hard at everything he does. That he cares about others. That I see how nice he is to his sister, daddy, me, turtle and even Mr. Fishface. He’s funny. It’s so great how he likes to read and learn math. He’s really good at it. That I love him and I’m not trying to be a mean mommy by making him go to bed, I’m doing it so he can play and have a great day tomorrow. That watching him play sports is one of the best things I’ve ever gotten to do.

Little, sleepy, angry man. Thank you for letting me have a special parenting moment to cherish. And for not waking up as I attempted to tippy-toe out of your room.

He now finds a way to outdo every birthday with little surprises and special gifts that shows he pays attention to me.

He had roses waiting for me in the garage so I would see them when I walked to my car. He braved the beauty department makeup counter to buy me the “fancy” mascara I wanted.

That would be swooning enough for sure but there was more.

This is the cookie cake that Andrew had delivered at my work for my birthday.

Thank you, Cookie Creations of Atlanta

This is the dress, also purchased by Andrew, that I wore when I ate the cookie cake that Andrew bought me.

Happiness and Photo Courtesy: www.jessicasimpsoncollection.com

These are the hot heels that Andrew delivered upon me before I left for work in the dress that I wore when I ate the cookie cake.

Also, Jessica Simpson

These hot heels also added some adventure to the day that marks 34 years alive. I tripped three times in these beauties. And I would do it all again. My embarrassment and possible pain is the least I can do to show my thanks, appreciation and love for all Andrew does for me.

And I think he’s thankful for things like calendar reminders now. Maybe forgetting my birthday was the best present he ever got me.

I remember I cried when I found out I was going to have another baby. “How will I ever love another child as much as I love Nia?” I worried. You were a surprise. You were a blessing.

You were due on December 20th. I bought baby’s first Christmas clothes and ornaments. It would technically not be your first Christmas. You arrived on December 27th and not without a dramatic entrance. We finally would find out if Spud was a girl or a boy and – oh yeah – that emergency c-section. You were healthy after a struggle of an arrival and were a boy. We cried out of relief, excitement and love.

Today, six years later, you woke me up with a cuddle and a happy, “Today is my real birthday!”

Yes it is, Spud. And I’m so glad for it.

I hope as the years pass, they remember asking where baby Jesus was. I know I will always remember it and how they lifted their sweet voices in song to celebrate Jesus’ birth. How they sat next to Father Leo on the steps of the altar in front of the entire church and answered his questions about the meaning of Christmas and animatedly nodded. How Nate rested his head on Nia’s shoulder at one point during Mass and she didn’t shrug it away. That they remember the love, beauty and spirit of Christmas in the middle of the piles of presents and the cookies for Santa.

Merry. Christmas.

This all became very evident to me this weekend while we were watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” on an Atlanta TV station. Our 5-year-old started to read the crawl at the bottom of the screen. The crawl was about a little girl, Jorelys Rivera from Canton, Ga., who was missing. “Three or four feet tall. Blue jeans and pink shirt,” our son read. Our 8-year-old daughter, only one year older than Jorelys, asked about her. What happened? Where is she? Where was she? Where is her mom? We answered the questions that we could and talked to them about how police thought she was taken from near her apartment’s playground. I stressed the need to be cautious of strangers, not really knowing if this was a stranger issue or not, just trying to reinforce to them about safety while we were on the subject.

I didn’t really think it would all register to them. Still at ages where the next few hours are what’s on their mind, I was quite surprised to hear my daughter say unprovoked after church on Sunday, “I think I saw that little missing girl in church today. She was sitting in front of us.” I told her that I thought that was very smart of her to be looking for the girl but I didn’t think that was her. She didn’t meet the description good enough. My daughter asked, “I wonder if they found her.”

She was really thinking about this.

How was I going to tell her what happened to Jorelys? That they found the sweet baby girl’s body on Monday. Should I? Would it scare her too much? But, sadly, terribly, it’s what happened. She should know. She cared about Jorelys. A girl who could have been my daughter’s friend. She carried her purse and diary to the playground like my daughter would have. So innocent and sweet. Like all our children.

I told her and my son. I didn’t get detailed. Just that I had sad news. They found the missing girl. I let the questions start, “Is she ok? Was she hurt? Where was she? Was she killed? Was she shot? How did she die? Who did it? But she was only seven.”

I told them that sometimes people are mean or not right and will hurt others, even kids. Police are now trying to figure out who did it. That the only people who really know now are Jorelys and the person who hurt her. “And God,” my daughter said. “And Santa,” my son added. “Santa knows.”

A child’s perspective of something so serious and sad. I explained that it doesn’t matter if Santa knows. This is bigger than Santa but his young mind was determined, “But that person who hurt her was not nice.”

Yes, buddy, you’re right. Not nice at all. The perspective of a child trying to figure out such a scary and heartbreaking situation is so confusing. I can’t even imagine what she thought. I wish she didn’t have to think it. Too young. So innocent. Only seven. With her purse and diary.