Kindergarten and the Super Soaker

I should be packing Madan's lunch right now. Tomorrow, is the first day of school for the next billion years of his life. But, I'm delaying the PB&jam-fest because I want to remember a specific moment we had at bedtime tonight. That way, 12 years from now, when I'm cussing him out for letting his buddies throw half-empty beer cans in my bathtub and all over my yard, I can visit this blog, read this post and make peace rather than whip out the rolling pin my mom gave me (for other reasons, of course) and chase his ass around the house before giving up and throwing it at him.

Madan has been incredibly jacked for the big K. So much so, that I wonder if he's happy to be a big kid or happy to be getting away from me big time. He'll never tell. But, sometimes actions speak louder than words. We had an incredibly tender moment tonight. Mike read Madan a bedtime book. It was the story of Scamp, a mutt of a dog who marches to a different tune, never does anything right, but saves the day to the benefit of his well-behaved brothers and sisters. I get Scamp. He's a little rough around the edges and doesn't look like the other dogs, but has an incredibly big heart.

As Mike finished the story, we hugged our Doobie and got ready for the routine. Madan usually pulls the covers over his head, yells at us to stop calling his stuffed dog "Banjo" (it's not his name) and reminds us to "turn the hallway light on" before we bid him adieu for the night.

But, today, it was different. First off, we didn't taunt "Banjo." (Madan's not the only one growing up.) Then, we gave Madan the biggest hugs we could. When it was my turn, I planned to give Madan a tighter squeeze and hang on just a little longer. It was the last time I'd hold my kid pre-K and I wanted the moment to last forever. But, instead of hearing, "LET GO, MOM!", Madan hung onto me, not letting go, laughing hysterically because he knew it was so unexpected -- plus, he threw a few zerberts in for good measure.

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring as he boards the big yellow bus. Will he turn around or won't he? It doesn't matter. Either way, there's no looking back, just forward to a bright future.

So Madan, if you're reading this many years from now. Tell your friends to clean up the party before I get home and remember how incredibly proud you make us. You're only a month shy of six, but you've already turned into a sensitive little gentleman and are everything a mother could hope for and more.

P.S. As I type this serious post, your Dad keeps interrupting from the other room. The guy who invented the Super Soaker is on TV. Evidently, he made over $1 billion with the invention. So much for school.


You've come a long way, baby!

Ric Rac and The Other Woman.

Dear M:

Last Friday, I met "the other woman." She's caring, but she'll never love you like I do. She'll take care of all your needs, but she won't give you hugs and kisses like I do. She'll make you feel special, but she won't tell you you're the best. You're going to adore "the other woman," but just remember, I was here first. And, I will be here last. While these other woman repeatedly enter and exit your life, just know, I will be the singular one who will remain steadfast, here for you, forever.

Don't you forget it.

Okay. Lest you think Mike's a wanderer, I'll come clean. Madan's starting Kindergarten. I didn't cry once during orientation. But, I did get a little misty-eyed when "the other woman" (his teacher) reminded us that she'll be spending more waking hours with my son than me.

Hmmm. That got me thinking. Madan would be in school for the next (hopefully) 12+ years. Sure, we'd still have summer, but it's almost unbearable to know that I'd hardly see him for the next 3/4 of a year. What the hell was I thinking sending him to school? Talk about a bad idea.

And, if that's not bad enough, "other woman" gave me a list of demands during orientation. It included hand sanitizer, anti-bacterial wipes, ziploc bags and ... ric rac. WTF? Ric rac? She hates me, I thought. She barely knows me, but it's obvious that she despises me and wants me to die. The other moms got easy-peasy requests: Q-tips, yarn, cotton balls, toothpicks, newspaper for chrissakes! What the HELL did I do to earn RIC-freakin'-RAC? Hindu karma had kicked in. Boy, I must have done something really shitty in my last life to deserve this.

After a tearful Q&A session with a friend, I spent the next day in search of ric rac. I zigged to Walmart. I zagged to The Flower Factory. I crisscrossed all over town, searching Target and Michaels for the endangered trim, only to come up empty-handed. I debated posting on Craig's List or trolling the ric rac black market. Then, I remembered. The Other Woman said I'd have to visit Jo-Ann Fabrics. But -- GASP! -- that's all the way in Solon. I was sure I could prove her wrong. After all, Walmart sells guns, food, toys and drugs! Aside from white glue sticks, what don't they have?

Ric. Freaking. Rac. OMG.

Today, I traveled all the way to Jo-Ann Fabrics and hurriedly ran through the store. Joann's is like a foreign country to me and I wasn't interested in prolonging my stay and catching a bad case of craft-itis. I accosted a sales lady.

Um, do you have RIC RAC? What the HELL'S ric rac anyway?

The saleslady was not amused. My lack of sewing prowess disgusted her. She knows I use iron-on hem tape, I thought. Crap. Two minutes later, I checked out and chucked the ric rac in my car. Then, I sped off to Chipotle, home to the burrito bowl and everything that's safe, good and yummy in this world. The ric rac is now safely stowed in Madan's backpack, ready for delivery.

I can't wait to flaunt my ric rac success in class.

To Joey's mom: Ohhhhh. Where ON EARTH did you find Q-tips? Your friggin' bathroom closet?

To Betsy's mom: Wooden sticks? Oh, how NOVEL! You must feel such a sense of accomplishment getting those from Michaels. Pray tell, did you use your Sunday supplement coupon?

To Johnny's mom: YARN? OMFG. How did you manage to wrestle it away from your pet cat, unscathed?

To Susie's mom: Hmmm...cotton balls. Now, that's a tough one. Did you go to CVS, Walgreens, Walmart, Target, Giant Eagle or Heinen's? So many choices, how ever did you decide?

To everyone, while doing my newly-perfected celebratory ric rac smack-down dance: Yeah, I got ric rac. (Collective horrified gasp from all the mothers.) I know. I know! Can you believe I had to get ric rac? Teach threw down the fabric gauntlet, but I delivered. And how! Two packs of jumbo red, baby. (Another collective gasp -- not only had I procured ric rac, but I also got RED which started with an "R!" Did I mention the ric rac was for the Kindergarten jumbo alphabet book?)

What next, teach? Tie-dye playdough? 5,000 cutouts of the letter "i"? Bring it.

I. Am. Kindergarten-ready.