OMG, kindergarten

Denial can be a happy place, really it can. I have been very happy this summer, doing all the summer things with the kids and enjoying our family being nearby. Happy, happy in denial-land, ignoring what is so rapidly approaching: the school year. Because, this year, the school year means something big for my little Jellybean. She's going to be in kindergarten.

There, I said it. I'm starting to emerge from that happy place called denial. Kindergarten is really going to happen. I have the school registration form and the school supplies to prove it. It's going to happen -- the question is, how? How is my little Jellybean going to go to that big school with all those kids for ALL-DAY kindergarten? She's so little and so innocent and still takes a nap a couple times a week, for heaven's sakes! Every time I think about it, I imagine Jellybean being so sweet and good at school, diligently listening to her teacher -- and then coming home at the end of the day and instantly transforming into a hungry, tired MONSTER. Even my daydreams can't conjure a different scenario.

And that's how she's going to be. What about me?! All these years of us hanging out together -- even when she was in preschool, we still had lunch together every day. A part of me is so thrilled she gets to go to such a wonderful school with all these great teachers and people. But the rest of me is just torn apart at the prospect.

I know so many moms who have sent their first kid to kindergarten in the past couple years. They've all told me all about it, given me advice to prepare me for when my own kid did the same. But, denial. I was still living so happily in denial. And now I no longer reside in denial. So, please, help me figure out how we're going to survive this transition.

Millions of peaches, peaches for free

Does anyone else remember that song? Or maybe I'm the only one who sings it every summer in July when I have peach juice running down my chin.

Our new house has a peach tree. L picked one a day for about a week to taste, "for science," he said. He decided last weekend they were ripe, so we picked them! The picture doesn't do justice to how many there are. They're little, but they are yummy. And free, did I mention free? Well, free with this little thing we call a mortgage.

My freezer is full of peeled, sliced peaches. I'll be accepting your best peach-thing recipes anytime!

Swimming with pride

I signed both girls up for swim lessons this summer for the first time. I wanted them to learn to swim without having me in the water, because I thought they might do better if it wasn't Mama telling them what to do. Turns out, I was probably correct in that assumption.

What I didn't factor in with the lessons was how quickly they would make progress -- and how freakin' exciting it is when they do! I have never felt so proud as I have behind the glass walls (we went to an indoor pool so as to avoid the bad weather factor), watching them do things for their teachers they would never do for L and me. I've practically jumped up and down a few times.

When we started lessons, they liked to be in the water, but only from the neck down. Two days into lessons, Jellybean was voluntarily dunking herself and has announced that she loves going under water now. And little Peanut, who I thought may be a tad too young to really do anything, actually floated on her back by herself -- a skill that is 2 levels beyond where she is! (Mind you, she's still working on putting her face in the water. And Jellybean wants nothing to do with floating.)

It went so well, and I've been so thrilled with their progress, I've signed them up for another session. I can't wait to see what they'll do next!

7 colors a week

Peanut can tell you what color every day of the week is. Monday is green, Tuesday is blue, Sunday is her favorite color, orange. Each day has a different color.

No, she's not reading auras or anything supernatural. She's talking about her underwear. Once she was potty-trained a few months ago, I took her shopping to choose her own undies. Much to my disappointment at the time, she chose the day-of-the-week undies; each pair has a different day of the week printed on it. My first thought was, "Great, now this falls on ME to get the right pair on her each day." It's hard enough for me to remember what day it is. Now I have to coordinate undies too?! Then I remembered she can't read. Perfect.

It turns out I'm too anal retentive (love that potty-training double entendre) to ignore the writing on the undies. So, I made sure she had the right undies on the right days from the get-go. And Peanut still loves it. Before she had the colors memorized, she would ask at bedtime, "What color is tomorrow?" When you're 3, it's important to know the color of your undies at all times.

So, in the words of Peanut, "What color is today?"