Here I Sit

Here I sit on the last Tuesday of the school year. I just got home from Eva's preschool "carnival." Unfortunately, "carnival" means "shoving over 50 parents and 40 students in a small, hot room together for an hour and sending them home with an Otter Pop."

The weather has been rainy and chilly for the past week, so all the end-of-school activities that are normally held outside have been moved inside. At the beginning of last week, it was in the mid to upper 80's for several days. Since our swamp cooler isn't hooked up yet, our house was 82 degrees for four days straight. Gotta love spring in Utah!

The butter when my house was 82 degrees

Scotty just got back from Paraguay. He was gone for nine days, and you know what? I handled it. At the end of each day, I patted myself on the back because everyone was alive, and the house was still standing, and it was MAY! The weird thing is, after Scotty travels, I tend to get a little depressed. I don't really understand it. I'm fine while he's gone - I mean, I'm kinda nutso, but I'm not depressed. Then when he gets home, it's like a wave comes crashing at me from behind. BAM! And I just want to lay in bed for three weeks.

While Scotty was gone, I drank soda. Nearly six months of sobriety out the window! I had two Ruby Red Squirts (amazing!) and three Cokes (amazing!) You guys! I love soda! I LOVE IT!!! And I want to have one occasionally, but I don't know how to moderate it. Once I taste that sweet nectar, it's all I want and all I think about. I had my week-long love affair, and now I have to stop, or I'll spiral out of control. Scotty always says, "Why don't you just drink it on the weekends?" I wish I could. But unless someone is with me at all times to slap it out of my hand on weekdays, there is no way to enforce that rule.

My first Coke in 2019 - It was beautiful

I'm kind of bugged, though, because quitting soda doesn't seem to have made any impact on my life or my body. I was drinking a minimum of 32 ounces of Dr. Pepper everyday, and very often, I drank more. After five and a half months without a single ounce of ANY soda, I weigh the same, and my blood pressure and cholesterol levels are the same. Where is my reward? What am I making this sacrifice for? I want my juice or I want a pay off!!!

Since it's May (and you know by now that May is cray), I had a lot of stuff to handle on my own while Scotty was gone. Two talent shows, three field trips, church, Mother's Day, and a jump rope performance, to name a few.

Nicky told me several months ago that he wanted to dress like a chicken and "bock" "Don't Stop Believin" in the 6th grade talent show. He stuck with this dream, but he changed songs because he was afraid he would forget the words (not sure how this matters when you're "bocking," but whatever). He decided to do "Baby Shark," but the day before the talent show, we couldn't find his chicken suit, and I feared I'd accidentally sent our stash of adult-sized onesies to the DI during my Marie Kondo episode (I bagged them all up and put them in the basement to store. We have more than the average amount of adult-sized onesies. Chickens? Check! Unicorns? Check. Christmas-themed pajamas? Check. I couldn't find the bag and thought I must've taken it to the DI with other bags by mistake). Nicky was so upset with me, and I ended up ordering a chicken onesie from Amazon with very expensive shipping to get it to us on time. Then, by some miracle, Nicky found the onesies in a bin in the basement - one that was labeled something completely unrelated to adult-sized onesies (oops!) I was able to cancel the Amazon order (thank heavens), and Nicky went on to perform a lovely chicken version of "Baby Shark" for his peers.

Over the weekend, Nicky's teacher texted me and asked if he'd be willing to do his chicken performance in front of the whole school on Monday... and he did!

(I know, I know. My child is gifted. I try to stay humble about it).

Three years ago, Nicky was so shy, he couldn't even walk into the school office by himself to call me if he was sick. Now he dresses like a chicken and "bocks" in front of the whole school with no fear.

I'm trying to be okay with the fact that that is Nicky's last week of elementary school. On Thursday at 1:00, he'll walk out of the school for the last time, and I might be a mess. The school has a tradition of "clapping in" the kindergartners on their very first day. The whole school lines the lobby and hallways and applauds while the kindergartners come in. Then on the last day of 6th grade, they have a "clap out" where everyone applauds the 6th graders as they walk out of the school.

I can't even.

This year I had a kindergartner and a 6th grader, so Zoe was "clapped in" and Nicky will be "clapped out." Tomorrow is the last day of kindergarten, and I'm so sad. I want Zoe to be in kindergarten forever, and I would mind if Nicky stayed in 6th grade forever. This has been such a great school year for all of my kids (except Eva because she's a pain in the tush... I had to shove her through the preschool door crying pretty much every day). All of my kids (even the one that's a pain in the tush) had fantastic teachers who have all earned their place in heaven, as far as I'm concerned. Nicky had an especially wonderful year, and I'm so grateful! 

After Thursday, it will still be May, but it will no longer be cray. I'm not sure what we'll do about that.