Thursday, August 1, 2024

Middle Grade Kiddos

Okay peeps.

It’s time for another Big Picture post, but I promise this one won’t be as whiny and depressing as this doozy from a couple days ago:


To spare you a long read before you get to the revelation, I’ll share an up front Cliff’s Notes version:

This past year, I came to the major realization that I no longer have “young” children, nor do I identify squarely with the elementary stage of parenthood.

Rather, my kiddos are firmly planted in the “middle grade” years, and I’m A-okay with that!



Obviously, I’m a little insane-in-the-membrane, and didn’t mind birthing three babies in 3.5 years.

I was in the weeds with the infant/toddler/kiddo stage and figured I might as well cram all that craziness into a short period of time, if my body was willing and able.

Plus, I knew that as soon as I made it out of the diaper stage, I would never willingly regress. I was in it to win it.

And, of course, because I’m a little Type A and did the math from the get-go, I knew that we’d have two golden years. The kiddos would all be in elementary school together, life would be sparkling and Norman Rockwell, I’d pour all my heart and soul (and time!) into giving the kiddos their best elementary experience possible, and I’d live with no regrets.

Again, I was in it to win it.

I used to do a little huh or double take when I’d run into parents with a different age spread than my crew. As in, parents of slightly or much older kiddos.

There was just a different vibe to those households. 

More hands-off, definitely less time/interest/capacity for hanging around during optional events or participating in school volunteering.

More of the drop them and run style when participating in birthday parties or play dates or school activities.

Not as “helicopter parent” when it came to what their children were doing or watching, or who they hung out with.

Siblings definitely didn’t show up for all the family activities or events, and there was a general aura of being frazzled and over-worked.

WELP.

Lemme tell ya how much my former self laughs at my current self, because I am officially transitioning into one of those parents.

Now.

Don’t get me wrong: if you know me at all, you’re aware that I’m still highly involved and aware of what my kiddos are doing and with whom. And even pretty much in it to win it—in practice, if not in heart, ha.

But we experienced a seismic household shift last year when the kiddos fractured and Chica headed off to middle school, and the child—and parent!—learning curve hit hard.

Overnight, my eldest grew (literally, physically, emotionally, socially) in front of my eyes, and my other two are quickly following suit.

Let me count the ways…

With the onset of a cell phone for Chica’s elementary graduation, we’ve now hit the stage of leaving the kiddos in her care for short bursts of time.

We even—gasp!—went to an adult movie two weeks ago. Officially the longest stretch of time we’ve ever left them like that.

And, yeah, sure, I was checking my cell every 20 minutes, covertly texting during the movie, and still super paranoid, but…we did it. And it felt totally surreal.

Rooms have been refreshed, wardrobes have aged up. So many toys and little kid things have been packed up and donated. I even did a major overhaul of the craft closet this week, and almost wept over all the projects that are too young or simple for my kiddos—until I boxed it all up to ship off to my little niece, and then I was happy again. :)

Chica is nearly my height, and might surpass me, soon. Sometimes, I have to check the labels to distinguish her leggings and sports bras from mine, and last week, I borrowed a pair of her shoes (just as she has, many times, in reverse), because that’s totally a thing we can do, now.

Even my baby boy (who, let’s be honest, has never been a baby) is campaigning for us to leave him solo at birthday parties and play dates (it’s literally just a matter of time before he tells us not to call them “play dates”) without hovering—and so are his peers.

This year, all my kids are old enough to take state mandated testing (that happens in 3rd grade), and it’s Chicklet’s final year of elementary, which will go by in a blink, and I CAN’T EVEN.

Two out of three of my crazies know the truth about Santa, and Little Man was already fishing around for more details just yesterday, because he’s hip to this game. Though, hysterically, he’s holding on to the magical belief, because: “parents would, like, never buy their kids thousands of dollars of things.” Bahahaha.

Chica officially “hangs” with friends, sometimes on the fly. They look giant and mature (especially the ones who have even older siblings), and, yet, I’m so grateful she has kind, supportive, intelligent and stable friends. And I know and adore so many of the moms.

I mean, check out some of these recent photos of them together—even arranging a back-to-school shopping run. :) SO teen.









Further evidential proof of the household age-up…

Chicklet took it upon herself to wipe her dresser and desk clean of all little kid toys a few weeks ago, and I almost wept into my Cheerios—until I realized it was the right age for this to happen. And better now, than when someone makes her feel immature. 

But just look at this hidden drawer of animals. Talk about a stab to the gut. Especially if you know my Chicklet and her imagination at all!



Worse, still, was the snowball effect that followed: a massive room and closet overhaul and organization before we complete the process of “teen-ing” up her room:



And I don’t even have to tell you how ecstatic (and despondent) I was when this happened:



I could count the ways a million times over and still think of more middle grade kiddo examples, but another telling sign that we’re transitioning as a household is how I relate (or very much don’t) to other parents within the elementary circle.

At, like, my gazillionth Fiesta party, or Rodeo Day or Art Night Fundraiser last year (I really can’t remember), I had a sort of an out-of-body experience as I was talking to a lovely mom friend of mine.

This mom has two kiddos, but her oldest is my youngest’s age, and I realized what a massive gap that presents at this stage in parenthood.

During our conversation, this lovely mom was all gung-ho about coming up with new and diversified and successful school fundraising opportunities, and working really hard to make this particular event overly exciting by bending over backwards and going way over the top, and I found myself smiling and nodding and silently thinking: just give it another few years, honey, and then see how ecstatic you feel. Ha. 

And then I SHAMED myself for being so inwardly pessimistic, until I recognized one key thing:

It’s okay to pass the torch!

(Side note: that lovely mom friend of mine made it to the end of the school year before deciding to already scale back her involvement. Because this stuff is tough!)

By now, I’ve chaperoned approximately 2,473 field trips, thrown 542 class parties, shown up for every theme day and field day and Fiesta parade and carnival event and rodeo day and book fair and teacher appreciation week; thrown money at every fundraiser; signed up to be a room representative every, dang year of my kiddos’ lives; volunteered in the library and in the classroom and the orchestra room and choir room and everywhere and everything in between!

I. Kid. You. Not.

Been there, done that.

And that’s just school life!! Don’t even get me started on home and holiday and social and extra-curricular life!!!

But guess what???

I’ll keep showing up (but, maybe, like 10% less???) until I get Little Man out of elementary, ha.

Because the best part of throwing myself into the “young” kiddos stage and getting to this beautiful metamorphosis of “middle grade” is that I know I’ve given it my ALL. In every way possible. And there’s such a peace to children growing up and changing when you know you’ve been present. :)

So here’s to my Lucky 13th year of parenting and the change I feel in the air.

Life is full of more by the day.

More insanity.

More driving.

More extra-curriculars.

More stress.

More homework.

More emotions (that lead to more mentally taxing parenting).

More socialization.

More worldly experiences.

But, ultimately…more independence and growth for my beautiful (non) babies.

I can’t wait to see what life looks like a year from now. :)

Happy Almost Friday, peeps!

Over and out.

P.S. More teen evidence. Chica and her super fun hair clips we found today:









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