To The Door

Our local school is fairly small. So small that there is no busing services for the students. In order to go to classes every day, kids either need to walk to school or have their parents drop them off. Because of this, there is a drop off lane in front of the entrance to the school. That way, parents can just pull up, open their doors, and just let their kids get out without having to leave the car.

I don’t do that, however. 

Every morning I park a couple of blocks away and walk Baby E to the door. The walk only takes us a minute or two to complete. Then I pick her up, hug her, put her back down, and watch her run inside. After that, it’s back to my car to go home and get ready for work.

As I was on my way back to my car yesterday morning, I heard someone yell, “Uncle Revis!” I turned around to see my niece running up to me. She jumped up into my arms (which was not good for my back, but I wasn’t about to complain) and hugged me. Right after I put her down, I was forgotten by her as she raced inside to be with her cousin until school started  (she’s in second grade while Baby E is in kindergarten).

I passed my sister in law on my way to my car as she sat in the drop off line. We said our hellos and then she asked me why I didn’t just drop Baby E off like that. I could’ve told her it’s because her sister wants me to do it that way (which is true). Mrs. Revis still hasn’t come to terms with our daughter being in kindergarten and is a little freaked out about the thought of just dropping her off.  There’s always at least one teacher out there  (though usually two or three), and you can watch from your car until they make it into the building, but she still worries.

I just shrugged the question off. 

I could’ve easily given the “my wife wants me to do it this way” excuse, but that’s not why I do it that way. The truth is that I want to do it that way. I want to do that little bit of walking with her. I want to spend that few minutes of extra time with her.

Every morning, when I park, as soon as she shuts the car door, her hand immediately comes up and grabs mine. She only needs to hold my hand when we’re crossing the street, but she doesn’t let go until we reach the school doors and I love every second of it. I know I need to cherish these moments now because it won’t be long until holding Daddy’s hand won’t be cool anymore. 

So, for now, I’m going to keep parking my car and enjoy having my little girl’s hand in mine until we get to the door.

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It’s Happening

Today, Mrs. Revis and I went up to school with Baby E to meet her kindergarten teacher. She starts classes on Thursday.

My baby girl is five years old now. She’s about to start school. It seems like only a few weeks ago that we were driving her home from the hospital, going incredibly slow because we were freaking out.

Now she has her own little personality. She has friends at school already (that she went to preschool with last year). Every time she saw one tonight, they would holler each other’s name and hug each other. Her best friend from preschool last year (a little boy who loves Elvis) ended up in her class and she was so excited.

Every night, she wants me to tell her a story. Even though she’s got dozens of books, she doesn’t want me to read to her. She wants me to make one up on the spot for her. When I get done, she’ll either give me a thumbs up or thumbs down. Tonight’s story was about a butterfly who got stuck in a spider web, but was able to escape before the spider got it. She gave me the thumbs down because “it’s not real”. I told her that a butterfly could, in fact, get caught in a spider web and then she started crying because “it was real”.

Sigh….

She got her ears pierced a few weeks ago. We warned her beforehand that it would hurt when they did it, but she said she didn’t care….until they did it. Then it was a slow burn. For the first few seconds, she didn’t do anything. The tears came slowly after that, until she buried her face into a stuffed animal they let her hold and bawled uncontrollably. Unfortunately, I was at work when my wife took her to get this done. While I watched the video, I wanted to reach into the phone, pick her up, and comfort her.

She’s got glasses now, too. They noticed she wasn’t seeing everything the way she should when my wife took her in for her five-year-old checkup. When she wears them, she looks even older.

Like all parents, I’m wondering where the time has gone. She used to be a tiny little thing. Now she’s a kindergartener. She used to need me to do everything for her. Now she doesn’t want me to do anything for her. She wants to do it herself.

She’s growing up.

I don’t want it to stop. I just want it to slow down just a little.

Story Time

Lately, my daughter has been wanting me to make up a story for her on the spot every night when I put her into bed. Actually, she wants “two or three long, spooky stories”. I have no problem with that. I’ll normally oblige her by coming up with one before I leave the room. There are some nights, however, that it’s not easy for me. Like last night….

It wasn’t coming up with a story that I was having a problem with. It was the fact that I had to go to the bathroom when my wife decided it was time for them to go to bed. I groaned. Of course that was the perfect time for them to lay down.

I accompanied them upstairs and put Baby E into bed. I tried to walk away. She started complaining that I didn’t tell her a story. I explained that I couldn’t tell her a story because I really had to go to the bathroom. Those complaints quickly turned into whines. So, I caved in and told her a really quick story.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who wouldn’t let her daddy go to the bathroom because she wanted to hear a story. So, her daddy tickled her over and over and over until she finally said he could go. Her daddy went to the bathroom and lived happily ever after… now that he was finally allowed to poop.

She was unimpressed. I thought it was great. What do you think?

Baby E’s First Field Trip

Baby E started preschool this year. She only goes for a few hours a day, but it’s enough to let her socialize with children her own age. They color, play, and start to learn their numbers and letters. She was so excited to go to school. Mrs. Revis got a tad emotional about how quickly our little girl is growing up. Her preschool is attached to the actual school she will be attending next year for kindergarten, so she’ll be with the same kids as she moves up in grades (which is cool).

A week before Halloween, their class had their first field trip. They were going to a farm to pick out their own pumpkins. The farm also included a petting zoo, playground, and other kid friendly activities. My wife decreed that one of us had to go with her. I had vacation time. She didn’t. So, I had to volunteer to chaperone on this field trip.

On the signup sheet, it stated that chaperones would be responsible for their child, plus one other. While, I was looking forward to sharing this experience with my daughter, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the “one other”. I’m pretty patient with what I call “my kids”. “My kids” include my daughter, my nieces and nephews, and my friends’ children. I have very little patience with any child that is not one of “my kids”, mainly because I shouldn’t have to deal with them if they’re not on that list.

When we got to the school that morning, it was revealed that because so many parents signed up to go on this trip, I was not being given an extra child to watch after. Woohoo!

Once everyone was accounted for, it was time to get on the bus. Because the school system of our town is independent, they don’t have money to pay for full busing services. Almost all of the kids who attend the school have to get their by either walking or getting dropped off by their parents. I drop my daughter off at school every morning before I go to work. Therefore, she had never been on a bus before. It freaked her out a little. For the first 5-10 minutes of the bus ride, she grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go. Eventually, she got used to it and let go.

When we got to the farm, they first put on a little puppet show for the kids, talking about all the animals they had there and what kinds of crops they grew. Baby E was into it. I quickly became bored. The puppet show mercifully ended and we moved onto the petting zoo. There were all kinds of animals, some you were allowed to pet and some you weren’t. There were the normal farm animals, like cows, horses, and chickens. Then they had some odd ones like llamas and a camel. Her favorite was probably the sheep because they gave the kids food that the sheep would eat right out of their hands.

After that, we loaded up onto a wagon and were pulled along on a tractor ride. This also scared her a little and I had to hold her hand most of the time. The tractor pulled us to the picnic area where we ate. The playground was right next to the picnic tables so kids immediately ate two bites of their lunches and then bolted for the slides and swings. This is also where the chaperoning thing fell apart. Even though I was technically only responsible for Baby E, I found myself watching out for a few other kids who were just running rampant without their chaperones paying any attention.

That particular nightmare didn’t end nearly quick enough for my taste. From there we caught another tractor ride back to the front of the farm where all the kids got together on big bales of hay for a class picture. It was a jumbled mess of kids not wanting to sit still, teachers trying to keep order, and parents watching the whole scene unfold through their phone’s screen.

We got back on the bus as soon as the picture fiasco was finished. By this time, Baby E was wiped out. She crawled up into my arms and fell asleep. She slept the entire way back, except for when the bus hit some bumps. Then she’d open her eyes long enough to look at me, and then she went back to sleep. Since the bus ride was only about 25 minutes, Baby E turned into Princess Crankypants when we got back to the school and I had to wake her up from her nap. I would’ve carried her to the car to avoid that, but holding her on that bus ride had seriously put some pain onto my back. Thankfully, we got to go home after that and we just hung out together for the rest of the day.

Overall, it was a great experience and I’m glad I got to share it with my daughter. But, I still told my wife that the next chaperoning gig is all hers.

Down With the Sickness 

I haven’t done a lot of writing this week (Sorry, Matt!). I actually haven’t done much of anything this past week. I spent more time at the doctor this week than I  did at work.

I went to the doctor a week ago today and he told me that I have pneumonia. He ordered a chest xray. Since the outpatient part of the hospital was closed by the time my appointment was done, I had to wait until Monday to get that done. The doctor said the xray looks clean, so I should’ve  been able to go back to work on Tuesday… That didn’t happen. 

The thing about pneumonia is that it makes it kinda hard to breathe. I could barely walk from my couch to the bathroom without being out of breath. Not to mention the headache inducing coughing fits. I wasn’t going to make it at work all day. So, I missed Tuesday as well.

On Wednesday, I tried to go in. I lasted about an hour and a half. I was still having trouble breathing, and the headache, plus my lungs were starting to hurt. I went back to the doctor. She said there was still crackling sounds in my lungs and that the antibiotics they gave me on Saturday should’ve made me better by then. She then gave me a shot (which she originally said was going to be in my butt, but ended up being in my back. I honestly didn’t care where it was, but I felt kinda stupid after I pulled my pants down and she didn’t stick me there). Right before I left, she informed me that I would be staying home from work the rest of the week too.

Thursday was just a resting day. Friday, I had to go back to the doctor. She listened to my lungs again and said that they sounded better. She also said I’d start to feel better soon, but it might take a bit to be back to normal because pneumonia sucks so bad.

Today, I’m breathing a little better. I’m not coughing as much. I still don’t really feel like doing anything, but I have a 4 year old, so doing nothing is impossible. 
Hopefully, I’m mostly back to normal by Monday. I can’t afford to take any more time off work. Hell, I couldn’t afford the time off  that I already did.

Stupid being sick….

I’m not the guy.

You want a natural or gifted athlete? I’m not the guy. 

Even in my youth, when I played sports a lot more regularly, I was only able to get to be decent at best. I never led my soccer team in goals or had the highest batting average on my baseball team. Nowadays, I’m able to play around with friends and family, usually without making a fool of myself. 

You want a talented artist? I’m not the guy. 

My drawing and painting skills are almost nonexistent. Maybe someday I could improve them, but I don’t see myself having the time to do so anytime in the near future. 

You want a great musician? I’m not the guy. 

I took lessons for two different instruments when I was in school. Both times, just as I was starting to get somewhat good at them, my family moved and I didn’t get to pick them back up. Maybe if I had been able to stick with them, this one would be different. 

You want a hot stud that will turn the ladies’ heads when they walk into a room? I’m definitely not the guy. 

I know I’m no “insert name of Hollywood heartthrob here” and I never will be. I’m well aware that most women don’t find me very attractive. But, you know what? I don’t care. As long as my wife still thinks I look good, that’s all that matters to me. Her opinion means more to me than every other woman on the planet combined.

I also don’t care that I’m not the guy on any of those others either. Sure, it’d be nice to be a big time athlete or a rock star, but I’m not upset that I’m not. You see, if I was any of those other things, I wouldn’t be me. 

I’d rather be me.

Now You Know

…… and knowing is half the battle. G.I JOE!!!!

Sorry. I had a childhood flashback. Anyway….

I’ve never actually come out and said it on here, but those of you who have purchased the book written by Matticus and I (You haven’t bought the Kindle version which is available here? Or the paperback version which is available here? Shame on you…) have figured out my real name. Over the years of being on this blog, I’ve already told some of my blogging buddies what it is. To most people though, it was a mystery.

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