But…She Still Wears Footie Pajamas

This weekend we went back to school shopping.  Backpacks, lunch bags, Thermoses, indoor shoes, and first day of school outfits were acquired and I think I was numb the entire time.  It took three trips to two different stores over the course of nearly two hours, but they’re both happy with their spoils.

OH MY GOD, MY TEENY TINY BABY IS STARTING SCHOOL.  SOMEONE LOCK HER IN HER ROOM.  DORIAN GREY THIS CHILD.  BAR HER FROM AGING.  PRE-EXPEL HER FROM EVER ATTENDING ANY SCHOOL EVER.  SHE’S MY BABY AND I REFUSE TO ALLOW HER TO AGE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON.  I AM HER MOTHER AND I COMMAND SHE CEASE ANY AND ALL GROWING.  I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL OZ AND I HAVE SPOKEN.

Avery is a tiny person.  She still gets away with size 3 clothing, despite her being 4 years old.  She’s a wee little thing with a precious little baby face.  We lie and say she’s three so we can sneak her into places for free.  Wait…is that against the law, Y or N?  If Y, then I’m just kidding, we’d never do that, that’s immoral.  If N, seriously, we do.  She could completely pull off the roll of a kid way too young to be starting school in a month.  And this is all day, every day school we’re talking here.  None of this half day or every other day stuff kids have become accustomed to.  ‘Round here, we throw our babies in the water to teach them to swim.  So to speak.  We don’t actually throw babies into water to teach them to swim.  That would be dangerous.  BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.  I’m rambling because when I’m not rambling, I’m afraid I’ll get too saccarine.

Eirinn is a big girl.  Tall for her age, one of the tallest girls, if not the tallest girl, in her class last year.  She’s also a March baby, so she was months older than Avery is on her first day.  She was ready and she looked ready.  Avery…not so much, but she’ll do fine, I’m sure.

She’s used to being away from me because I work full time, but she’s always been with my mom.  She’s never, ever been left in the care of a non-relative, but I’m sure she’ll be fine.  Right?  She’ll be fine.  I have no doubt as to whether or not she’s ready to start learning – “reading” is one of her favourite things, where she gets one of my books and sits and pretends to read – and she’s totally excited about the social aspect of school because she’s never really had a friend her own age.  So she’ll be fine.

SHE’S JUST STILL SO WIDDLE.  SHE CAN’T EAT WITHOUT STRAFING THE ENTIRE DINING ROOM INCLUDING HER OWN BODY, HEAD TO TOE, WITH A CHEWED UP MUNG OF HER MEAL.  SHE NEEDS ONE MILLION KISSES BEFORE BED.  SHE TALKS BABY TALK UNTIL WE TELL HER TO STOP.  SHE LIKES FOOTIE PAJAMAS.  HER WHOLE HAND FITS INTO MY PALM.

I don’t know, man.  She may be ready, but I’m not so sure I am.

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4 thoughts on “But…She Still Wears Footie Pajamas

  1. uh door uh bull

    i wrote something similar today about your namesake, my 7-yr-old, The Goose. They shouldn’t be allowed to grow up. the stuff with her older sisters has to stop NOW

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