Of course, I shouldn’t have worried. We could hear the cries of “water balloooooooons” coming from the bus before it got to the stop sign. All the kids on the bus were excited.

More pics of the fun

Katie has been reading little things for a while; even the occasional Eric Carle or Dr. Suess book. And she has looked longingly at Maggie’s longer, more grown up books and asked for chapter books of her own. She’s even tried to take some of Maggie’s books to read, but she just couldn’t quite do it.

So last week, while I was at the library, I picked up an easy reader chapter book for my baby. She “read” it in the car one day, and left it open to a page somewhere in the middle. This past Friday, I brought it back to her and mentioned that I was very proud of her for reading so much of the book.

Nah, she told me. Its too hard for me. I just looked at the pictures and skipped the words.

So we started on the first page. Honestly, I thought she was probably right. She couldn’t possibly read this chapter book. Not my baby. But she did. She read the first chapter aloud with me sitting next to her, and then decided she could tackle the next two chapters on her own. And she read every word on every page.

I think it is time to call her, officially, a reader.

This year has been a bit of a battle when it comes to the soccer games. Her favorite Saturday mornings have been the ones where she has woken up to rain and soccer was canceled. But she has played, grudgingly, when she has had to. She may have hung back a little (ok, a lot), but she went on the field and participated in her own way.

This past weekend was a bit different. It had been a few weeks since we had been able to play, and Katie was adamant that she did not want to play. She cried on the way to the field, yelled at me, and, when I reminded her that she did actually enjoy soccer when she ran around and played, she tried to convince me that I was looking at the wrong kid because SHE definitely DID NOT SMILE at soccer.

Saturday’s game started with tears. She refused to participate in the practice at all, crying and telling me she didn’t want to play. I forced her onto the field for the team prayer, and left her with her coach.

She was not going to make this easy. And oh boy, did I feel guilty. The other parents commented on her in a good natured way, because it was impossible to see that she was not happy.

As though this stance were not evidence enough, when she turned around, it was worse.

Is there anything about that picture that doesn’t scream misery? I felt like a horrible parent. She was CRYING. On the FIELD. She was supposed to be happy and enjoying herself. This was supposed to be FUN! I really wanted to pull her out of the game and let her sit on my lap and tell her it would be ok. But I took a deep breath and let her coach be in charge. Her coach has 4 kids of his own, and knew what he was doing. He kept her on the field while he subbed out other players. Maybe she just needed time. And her coach was so patient (or stubborn) with her. He took her hand and helped her walk more quickly, or even jog toward the field of action. When she wouldn’t let him have her hand, he grabbed the back of her shirt and took her along that way. He was kind and firm. She was going to play, and she was going to have fun. All it was going to take was a little more time.

When there was a goal kick, he gave it to her. She kicked with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, but she kicked the ball. He gave her another goal kick, and she did the same. He wasn’t giving up.

I really thought half time would be the end of it. Once she got to me on the sidelines, I knew there was no way she’d go back to field. But when the whistle blew, she came off the field, happy. Maybe not HAPPY, but she was clearly willing to go back to play and consider for a moment that soccer was not an elaborate torture device I had invented just for her. She even mentioned the possibility that she might kick the ball of her own accord and try to score a goal. I quickly bribed her with anything I could think of (which ended up being a SURPRISE if she would actually score a goal). She liked that idea, and actually jogged back to the field when the coach called everyone back.

The second half of the game had a different child in it. She ran after the ball, she got into the scrum around the ball. I think, a couple time, she even tried to force her way closer to the ball. She tried to score. She was proud and happy. She even looked like a soccer player!

Katie is now looking forward to next week’s game, which is, of course, the last. She and one other girl are the only ones on the team who have not yet scored a goal this season, and all the kids are working together to change that for them. Katie is very excited about that idea. And she is excited that she will get a trophy next week.

But she is also pretty sure that she doesn’t want to play soccer next year. In fact, she tells me that she doesn’t want to do sports at all except for swimming and gymnastics. I think I will listen to her.

I mentioned that they are lost to Stagg, and he thought about it for a while and decided, “they are probably somewhere in the house, in the van, in the backyard or at Lisa’s.” Thanks, honey. Seriously? Are you sure you don’t want to change “Lisa’s” to “somewhere else” because that would be just about as helpful.

But then we hit a wall. I tried to get the third floatie off, taking her down to one thin floatie, but she wouldn’t give it up. I tried to take it off when she wasn’t looking and she’d figure it out and thrash about like she was drowning. Then, she sat on the side of the pool and refused to go back in until I put the second float back on. And MAN, that girl is stubborn. She sat on the side of the pool for an afternoon and watched the kids. In July. In Atlanta. When she wanted to swim. Just to prove to me that she was NOT going to go along with my plan just no matter what.

I gave in. Of course I did. She was 3, and if she wanted her floats that badly, she could have them. She won. I lost. And I dropped the subject. Next summer, I thought. No problem.

A couple weeks later, we were swimming with friends, and she looked at me, took her floatie off and said, “Mommy, I can swim now.” And she jumped in the pool and swam away before I could pick my jaw up out of my lap and say something. I stood at the edge of the pool and watched her do it. She was so proud of herself. So happy to be swimming. And there was no doubt in her mind that that day was her day.

Last Friday night, when Katie was getting ready for bed, I reminded her to put on a pull up. She looked at me and told me that she was going to sleep in underwear that night. Although Stagg and I have talked about when we might be able to stop buying pull ups many times, we have not talked to her about it at all. She knows she sleeps deeply and doesn’t wake up when she needs to go to the bathroom, so she needs a pull up.

Friday night, she did wake up once to go to the bathroom. I was upstairs just afterward, and she was so proud of herself. When she woke up in the morning, though, she was wet. She was sad, but still pretty pleased with herself for doing it. Saturday night, she tried it again, and woke up dry. What a happy girl! She was so excited to tell everyone she knew that she had done it. And, of course, her favorite and most important person to tell was Maggie. Oh, how she loved telling her big sister that she had done something that moved her so much further into the “big girl” category with her.

Sunday night there was no stopping her. She woke up wet on Monday, but had firmly planted herself in the “sleeps in underwear” category of kids. This morning she woke up dry again and is almost looking forward to going to bed tonight so she can do it again. Because she’s decided THIS is her time, and she’s going to take advantage of it.

Katie missed Thursday and Friday of last week. The first day, she laid in bed, the second day, she was mostly fine and did crafts and drew pictures. She was very sad to miss all her friends, and devastated that she couldn’t go to the play date we had scheduled for Friday afternoon. There was crying and flailing and attempts at negotiation and bargaining. It was so hard for her to understand that she couldn’t play because she hadn’t gone to school; that germs are things we don’t want to share with our friends.

Maggie’s fever, which was actually higher than Katie’s, seemed to affect her less yesterday. She mostly lay in bed, but was able to make it to the library and do a little homework, too. She read a whole book, got dressed and was in decent spirits. Today, her fever is just about gone, and she is anxious to get back to school. For the second time in her three years at school, she’s missed picture day.

And I’ve been faced with the unending quandary about when to call the doctor. Is a fever enough? What about these sore throats they complain about? Is it strep? Or just the general fever virus that makes them feel icky all over and they notice it more when they swallow? So far, although I’ve had the phone in hand, and some numbers dialed, I haven’t made an appointment. The fevers seem to be going away on their own too quickly to be anything other than weirdness.

If all continues the way it is now, it looks like both girls will be back in school tomorrow for the first time in a week. And since I volunteered at the school this morning, I got to hear about the strep, stomach bugs, flu, pink eye and general fever disease going around. And I can only wonder how long both of them will be in school for this stretch.

Yesterday morning, she got it out after she arrived in her classroom, but before school started. So not only did she get her necklace, but she got to wear it ALL.DAY.LONG at school. It was a very good day.

At home, there was much discussion about the tooth fairy. She worried that the tooth fairy would forget to come and wanted to know what would happen then. She worried that the tooth fairy would get confused and take her necklace. But we worked it out. Katie has a special book where she can put the information about her lost tooth in it, and she specifically left her a note asking that she leave the necklace. Then, in the space where she could list what she wanted to trade her tooth for, she stipulated that she’d like either $100 or a chihuahua puppy. Then, she begged us all to go to sleep right away so the tooth fairy would have easy access to what was under her pillow.

At 5am, I woke to crying. And the overhead light in my room going on. Katie had her special book in her hand and was so sad because the necklace was gone and there was no money. But I found her $2 and paused a split second before moving on to being upset that the necklace wasn’t there. I stumbled into her room (hey, it was 5am. I was tired.) and found the necklace which had fallen to the floor next to her bed. With the necklace secure in her fist, she cried because she didn’t want the money she got. She wanted $100 or a chihuahua or both and all she got was TWO LOUSY DOLLARS. The horror!

I have to give her a break, though, because while she was crying, we noticed hat she was burning up. The little girl with a fever and possibly a tummy ache clung to her measly two bucks while she slept in a little this morning. We’ve had some tears since she woke up because she didn’t get to go to school today and she wanted to, but at least she is resigned to the gift. The note from the tooth fairy didn’t hurt matters, either.

I believe that Maggie is enjoying school, though it has been hard to get much information out of her. The rightful order of her life has been restored, and she is relieved that she is back in her environment. The only homework she’s had this week is reading, and she is overjoyed that now instead of recording minutes, she records the pages she’s read. One day this week, she got to put down that she read 60 pages in a night, and that pleased her to no end. The only thing that would make her life complete at this point would be an extra 6 hours in the day to watch all the TV she would like. Well, that and having all her extra curricular activities start again.

Katie loves her teachers, but as she puts it, she’s still getting used to them. This means that she is very quiet during the day and all the noise she is used to making gets compressed into the 4 hours between school and bedtime. And she is used to making A LOT of noise. It is funny to imagine her being as quiet as I know she is being at school, since I so rarely see that side of her. Her teachers even told me that she waited halfway through snack one day this week before letting them know that she couldn’t get her “bar” open. She’s still learning the names of her new friends, but has already asked me to write down her address so she can give it to her new friend, a boy with curly hair.

I am getting used to the quiet at home during the day, and already amazed at how quickly the time goes and how my list of things to do seems to grow much faster than I able to cross things off it.