Changes are afoot in the Jones household. Most notably, little Miss Micah is starting preschool next week. I know. Preschool for an almost two-year-old? And the answer is yes.
For far too long, I've been trying to do everything. I thought that being more disciplined would help me get more accomplished, but in actuality, it hasn't. It was a tough decision to send Micah to preschool, but I think it's best for all of us.
She'll spend her mornings at the daycare, during which time I'll hopefully focus on my ongoing writing projects and social networking (including this here blog). Then I'll pick her up, we'll eat lunch together, and she'll go down for a nap. During which time I'll focus on designing and creating pretty paper. Then she'll wake up from her nap, and my workday will be over. We'll play together until Dennis gets home, then I'll make a nice home-cooked meal, she'll get a bath and go to bed, and Dennis and I will have some much-needed time together before we go to bed. Together.
That's the plan anyway.
As it stands now, after we get up and eat breakfast, we watch a bit of Sesame Street (that's what Micah's doing in the picture above), and then we both head into the office where I try to work while Micah clambers all over me. I try to keep her from coloring on the walls and pulling all the books off my shelves. We somehow make it through the morning, me ignoring her for the most part, and then we shovel food in for lunch, and I throw her into bed so I can finally get some work done. Except the small window of time that is her nap is never enough for me to cross off everything on my list, so when she wakes up, we're usually back in the office together until Dennis gets home, and then I'm back in here after she goes to bed, while Dennis hangs out in the den alone and then goes to bed alone. I then work into the wee hours in the morning before falling into bed. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Not exactly familial bliss, if you know what I mean.
Something had to give. So I gave up trying to do everything.
I'm excited for Micah, because I know she'll love playing with some other kiddos her age, and she'll thrive in the structured environment. I'm also a touch sad, because in a way it feels like I've somehow failed. I know that's not the truth, but sometimes feelings speak pretty loudly.
She's not a baby anymore. She's a little girl. This is just one part of growing up.
We'll survive. I may be a blubbering mess come Monday, but it's the best thing for us right now.
How's that for a change?
Until next time, grace and peace.