Greyson Rudy, 12 years old

Booboo, 
geez, oh man. time is really moving now - you are only about an inch shorter than me, definitely stronger than me, and making strides in maturing in all the ways. It seems impossible the way time works, but here we are - the baby who made me a momma is twelve.

you love fishing and hunting and sports best of all. whatever is in season for sports is your favorite but you'd love to go fishing or hunting anytime. you wish you had a phone; mostly every other kid you know does, but we've talked about all the reasons why we want you to wait until eighth grade and you seem to at least understand our rationale enough to not be mad about it. you are fully self-sufficient at carrying the responsibility of school (homework, due dates, studying, asking for help when you actually need it, and speaking to your teachers) and although no one is expecting you to be valedictorian (LOL) - your grades are respectable and you take accountability for your own work (whether it is great or a bad one) which is what we do expect.  

You despise chores and we have to do a lot of talking about 'doing it right the first time so you don't have to do it again' - and also 'doing the whole job; seeing it through until it is completed.' Although you are always willing to help in the kitchen; making meals, chopping up vegetables, or creating sauces. You are big help too when Dad is working on a project (you love power tools and the immediate gratification of seeing something transformed). It is nice to have another set of strong arms and steady hands when it comes to that (I am grateful to be let off the hook!) You learn best from your grandpas and I will always be grateful for their patience and their handyman lessons for you. 

You made your own money this year. First ump'ing a machine pitch game at our Little League field and then mowing a local lawn once a week. You are learning the true value of money that you've earned through sweaty, hard work and I am hopeful to see you grow out of that 'money is burning hole in your pocket' tendency (fingers crossed!)  

There is no denying that you are our resident teaser. Lord, help us all be grateful for the thick skin you so generously help us grow. Your younger siblings will be stronger, faster, tougher, and wiser because of growing up in a house with you - but good grief, dude. You redeem yourself pretty easily though with the sweetness you bestow to your baby sister Olive and the glorious fake beating you take from Red and Rusty (flying across the room when they play punch you). You make Violet feel like an ally in all your schemes and despite your constant sibling rivalry that stews under every interaction between you and Gem, you find ways to make her smile in little moments. 

Being an athlete is a huge part of your identity. The other day you were talking about someone in your school and you called her, "some emo girl" and I asked if you've ever talked to her. You said no because she's probably weird. And I asked you, "do you know how many people probably call you 'that dumb jock'?" You were appalled and said, "I'm not like that!" and I said well that's probably how that emo girl feels too. It has always been my mission to remind you that you are more than an athlete. But also to help you see and be an example that everyone is all kinds of things if you only take the time to know them. 

the other day after a game you asked me, "Are you proud of how good of a baseball player I am?" and I said, "yes, booboo. You are a great baseball player, but I'm mostly proud of the teammate you are." 

Because Booboo, the thing is you have athletic genes running through your body and, yes, you work hard to be a great athlete, but you also just flat out love to do it. And you have your daddy's coordination cheater codes in your DNA and a mother who played catch with you for endless hours since you were three years old. So being a great athlete isn't the thing that makes me proud. 

• I feel proud when I watch you walk up to your teammate who made an error and give him an encouraging word and pat on the shoulder.
• I feel proud when you make a great play and then high five your teammates and just get back to playing the game with no showboating
• I feel proud when you look adults in the face and have a conversation with them after the game; you thank them for coming and smile and answer their questions with humble enthusiasm
• I feel proud when you try sports that aren't exactly in your wheel house, so it looks awkward and uncomfortable, but you still try and laugh about it (and then end up mastering it which is so annoying just like your Dad, but I'm grateful you were first willing to try something new)
• I feel proud when you are excited to tell me about the game that I couldn't be at because I was at one of your sibling's games - so I get the 'fishing story' version while I watch your animated face and gestures walk me through the important parts of the game (I love hearing and watching you tell me about the game so much that it almost makes up for the guilt/sadness at not always being able to be at every game)
• I feel proud when you have patience with your little brothers and sisters when you play and teach them new skills and encourage them on their progress.
  
• I feel proud when you attend your siblings' games and cheer and clap for them
• I feel proud when you come home from a game whooping and cheering because your teammate and friend had the most amazing play and it was the best part of the game
• I feel proud when you stop to talk and laugh with your opponent who you've played against all the way up through the leagues and sports
• I feel proud when you get in the car and ask Dad what your "aw shit" was so that you can work on fixing that error for next time
• I feel proud when younger kids come up to talk to you at the field or court and you look them in the face and you stop to chat with them
• I feel proud when you help carry a teammate's equipment, or you help clean up after the game, or make a point to thank the refs or concession stand workers. 

I am happy to spend my life trying to help you see that being an athlete is so much more than just being good at the sport. And you are well on your way proving that to be true - how proud I am of THAT. 

You know what is so crazy, you've made it to the age that I can see you having patience with me! You try to have.patience.with.me!! I'm your parent who doesn't know all the 'cool' things and doesn't listen to the 'cool' music and makes up rules that are annoying and is usually a mean mom - but I watch you take a breath and have patience with your old mother. Oh gosh, after twelve years of digging deep into my soul to have patience with you, child, and to see that on your face - hah! 

But, we are entering the long, winding, dark forest of growing up (and raising up) and something about the two of us both looking into each other's face resolving to have patience really gives me hope. Because neither you nor I have any idea in hell how this is about to go, at least we are both willing to try to be patient with each other. 

I read recently an article written by a mother of a teenager where she said something like, "everyone hates the teenage years, but it is my favorite." and I am determined to make that true for me. I want to enjoy your silly jokes, your wild energy, your cartoonishly fast growing body, all your middle school and high school milestones and firsts and lasts (gulp!), your forever misplaced crap, your angsty moody ridiculousness, your bottomless pit of hunger, your frustrations of wanting to be fully grown but your still present need for having a momma in so many ways like you always have needed me. 

I know I'm not going to be part of it all. Gosh, how that hurts my mother's heart because I will always be able to see the baby curve of your cheek when I look at you no matter how grown you get. But I also know that's the thing about growing up. I lose you little by little,
but you find you;
you find your own life and friends and loved ones and adventures and wins and losses and experiences and joy and scared and mistakes and get-back-ups, and lessons and all of it. It is yours.

and there is no greater pride in my life than to get to watch it all unfold for you.
my boy.
my biggest baby.

this will be your last birthday post on the internet because really it's not my story to tell to the world anymore (it probably never was, but that's what you get for having a writer for a mother - sorry). you are on your way to figuring it out and some privacy and consent and buffer should be available through the next few years of wilderness that is growing up. I can't promise I'm going to get it all right (just like I know I haven't in the twelve years before), but I do promise to do my best by you and to love you through it. And to observe and cheer for you (just like I always have - "watch this momma!")

thank you for being a patient guide through motherhood
how grateful I will always be for that
I will love you forever
even when you get bigger than me
even when we both feel like strangling each other
even when we are both taking a deep breath to find patience for one another
my booboo,
I will be loving you,
momma.

Greyson Rudy, nine years old

My booboo,
Nine years old.
it's the last year of single digits for our biggest kid.
When will I ever understand how time works?

You are clever and inventive and when an idea strikes in your head, there is nothing that can stop you from testing it out (a scientist's mind!) You feel 'meh' about school but like getting two lunches and recess most of all. Not far behind in school though is science, steam, and Mrs. Wenger's read aloud chapter books. Spelling is the opposite of your strong suit and you have me daily shaking my head at your full on phonetic spelling of all the words (you spelled it "jinjher ail" on our grocery list the other day--two points to you, readers,if you can figure that out).

You are obsessed with Dragons (like from the How to Train your Dragon movies/series), and you read the entire series of The Last Fire Hawk except the final one that didn't get released yet. Your favorite color is still red and you wear those nicer than sweatpants-sweatpants to school every day (cat&jack brand) with usually a CT shirt/jersey. 

You are thoughtful and curious and downright goofy most of the time. You are either super duper dee duper besties with Gemma or you want to strangle her (seriously no inbetween). Violet is your little buddy and you two can carry on like bandits for hours. No one makes you laugh more than RustMan because he will do anything you tell him to and he tries to copy everything you do otherwise. He thinks you're the coolest dude on the planet and you think he is the most hilarious little gremlin that can get away with all the things you wish you could. Oh, Grey, you keep us all laughing and moving - that's for sure. 

You are an athlete, little man. Through and through and if you had your way, you'd have a ball in your hands and sneakers on your feet every moment of the day. This year you played tackle minors football (quarterback and safety), basketball for two different leagues (point guard), and baseball (shortstop and pitcher). You also play soccer with your buddies while you wait around for your sisters practices and games (you can do the rainbow flick), you're a master at four square, and you skate around our garage on rollerblades playing hockey. You learned to snowboard this year and you were able to go down with no frustrations by the end of the afternoon (begging to go down one more slope please!)

When it comes to techniques and rules and learning the games - you are dialed in on focus. You ask questions about plays and watch clips of best slides or the little league world series on youtube. You want to know everything about the game and how the best play it (although, unlike many of your classmates, you don't care too much about who is playing. You know the big time famous players for the different sports - but you actually seem pretty uninterested in knowing names, numbers, or stats like a lot of your friends do).  You'd rather be playing than watching in every single instance. If the game is happening, you want to be in; you want the win/loss on your own shoulders. If I said it once, it's been a (literal) thousand times, I will spend my life trying to help you remember that being a great athlete is only one tiny part of what makes you You. There's so many great things about you, being great at sports is just the one everyone talks the loudest about, babe.

Nine is proving to be a bit of a challenge for us all, Grey. You are ready to do bigger kid things and we are still trying to help you understand that kids that are trustworthy and dependable get to do big kid things. You are still working on some kinks and inconsistencies there because there's still a lot of things you'd like to not be responsible for (like chores, and studying, and listening the first time you're told). I know it seems like Dad and I are always giving you a hard time but we can't help but look at you and all your incredible potential and feel the need to shake (or yell) it out of you. 

Dude, this line of figuring out how to transition smoothly from little kid to bigger kid is tough for us too. We are just going to have to keep working on it together, because (not a newsflash) we've never done this with another kid yet - you're the first so every new age is new to us too. We'll get there but it's going to be a tug of war (probably forever, sorry- man #firstkidproblems - I'm right there with ya!) If we're being honest though, we are grateful this figuring it out thing is with you; you get the best and the worst of us as parents with the first gauntlet run - and you can totally handle it and your siblings are so lucky to get the aftermath of what you help us learn. We need a tough, determined, bull-headed (occasional smart ass) to take the first at-bat. Well done, Booboo. 

You can do a lot of things by yourself now and we're slowly expanding that list as we see that you can be trusted with a wider world. You can make a complete breakfast including coffee for me and dad (your specialty is egg sausage casserole or egg breakfast burritos with buffalo ranch!) You can mow the flat parts of our lawn on the riding tractor, lighting a fire and burning our cardboard is one of your chores. You can do your own laundry (although you don't have to unless you're grounded), you own a pocket knife, can bait a hook, release a fish, whittle a spear, and have gone turkey, deer/rifle, and deer/archery hunting. 

Just this past few weeks of spring, we have expanded your bike circumference to include about a mile around our house. You have to wear a helmet and be back by certain times - which you have adhered to each time so far. You make plans with the kid down the street to meet at the neighborhood turn on your bikes and play in the weeds/woods there (you call it the 'point of extraction'). You are loving the freedom of this expanded world and I can see how its helping you to grow and mature. I have to let loose my grip on you so that you can start to unfurl those wings, my baby. Gosh, it's hard to do. 

The first time you hopped on the bike I spent the next thirty minutes having mini panic attacks: did he ride wide on that turn down there like a I told him? He's not bothering his friends' parents, is he? How much time has passed, is he late? And then you came back home, proud as ever to announce - "look, I made it with one minute to spare! We're going to meet again tomorrow." 

You told me about your little adventure and about all the neighbors that you met - and I got a glimpse into this new world of raising a bigger kid. These little peeks into your reality and the lessons you learn when you go out into the world and practice the things we tried to teach you (and make your own choices too and see how that does or doesn't work). For now, we can still set the parameters and put up the barriers at increasingly farther distances; but you're on your way, Booboo, and we are so proud to get to watch you grow up.

My booboo, 

I love you and I am proud of you every day. 

even when we're mad and annoyed by each other, 

it is rooted in love and so much pride

for who you are 

and who I know you are going to be some day.

such a good man. 

I am so grateful that you are my son. 

that you are my first child that is helping me figure this out too. 

we'll never get to the end of this tug of war

but I will forever be glad that I am playing it with you. 

my darling first baby. 

I will be loving you forever and ever

even when you're bigger than me

(almost already!)

momma. 

Greyson Booboo, eight years old.

my Greyson Rudy Booboo,

Gosh, it never fails that your birthday startles me. Eight seems like officially a big kid. Eight years old feels like a big kid too - you can do almost everything by yourself (clean the hamster cage, shower, pack an overnight bag, fish, read your own homework directions, wake up and get ready for school). But there is still the little glimmers of our Booboo left on you - when you ask to be tucked in (three blankets in a specific order, hah) or when you are really tired (early in the morning or after long practices and games) where you lean into us for an extra minute and sigh while we nuzzle your thick hair.

You are a good big brother but get extreme enjoyment out of teasing your younger siblings, especially Gemma. You try to make up all the rules when you play with Gem, you scare Violet around the corners of the house, and you play fight with Rusty until he gets so angry he bites. But then when no one is looking, you check in with Gemma's teacher to make sure she's on the bus, you read to Violet, and you hold Rusty's hand while you walk into the house from the yard. You are tough and sweet with them, which I guess is really what they all need to grow themselves. 

You still love sports and we have sports balls of all kinds littering our home. I can get you excited for a few hours about science experiments or lego building or drawing comics, but then you lose interest and go back to jumping, tackling, throwing, catching, and dribbling. You are an athlete to the core and as I've said a hundred times before and will continue forever saying, it will be a great challenge for Dad and I to remind you that being a great athlete is not the best thing about you, sweetheart. 

Even more than sports though, you love fishing. You are a fishing fanatic and it is amazing to watch how your body and mind relax when you get a rod in your hand or you sit down to tie some flies. You even opened your own etsy shop this year of your fishing flies and you had some amazing incredible friends support you and cheer for you while you try something new. You remember, babe, how that felt for a grown up and some of your friends to ask to buy your creations - how incredible it feels to be on the receiving end of an encouraging voice. You have the power to be an encouraging voice to others too, baby, so please be. 

You love sleeping on the couch (you sleep there every single weekend night and I imagine you'll sleep there all summer long). You love Imagine Dragons (especially Believer) and Sir Mixalot's Big Butts song (which you tell Alexa to play on repeat at home and then get in actual trouble because once is enough a day, dude). You learned to floss (dance) and hate to floss (hygiene) or any other hygiene areas - brushing teeth, showers, fixing your hair, but boy do you love to change your clothes about four times a day and you leave your dirty laundry strewn all over the floor and your dresser drawers hanging open no matter how many times I nag you about it. 

You remind me ex.act.ly. of that illustration in Love you Forever of the boy at this age (the son is nine at the time of the story, but no matter). You are exactly like that boy in that photo. Sometimes YOUR mother wants to sell YOU to the zoo! 

Love you Forever by Robert Munsch, illustrated by Sheila McGraw

You can eat two double cheeseburgers in one sitting and you love Burger King fries with their bbq sauce (it's weird how many BK bbq sauce containers we have stored in our fridge, dude). You can read comfortably now (albeit reluctantly), and have terrible grammar & spelling - like the worst I've ever seen - but we're working on slowing down and using resources to clean it up. You got an Xbox for Christmas and then turned right around have been banned from it for the last two marking periods for C's in Language Arts on your report card (ahem, the grammar & spelling). You learned to use the oven this year (so many egg & sausage casseroles! Remember the time you put too much salt on and then Dad's face!), you hate any and all chores and you do your best into manipulating Gemma into doing them for you, and you'd play catch in the yard for 24 hours if you had someone to play with.

photo cred: Jenn Valentine

Grey - I am always looking for kindness, I seek it out like water in the dessert because, my Booboo, this world can be a lonely and dark place but if you are intentional about seeing little bursts of kindness and good in the world, it will steel your soul and heart and keep you grounded in gratitude.

So the other week after your baseball game, your whole team went running to the outfield for your post-game chat. After the final team hands-in cheer, all the players went running like mad for their equipment to go get in line for ice cream at the concession stand. Only two players hung back - the catcher who was trying to pick up all his pads that he had just taken off and one teammate who was helping him carry it all. I smiled and I thought, I'm going to point this moment out to Grey - let him know what a nice thing for his teammate to stay with the catcher to help him - hopefully to inspire you to be helpful the next time. 

And when the catcher and his teammate had collected all the stuff, they stood up together to walk to the dugout and I could finally see the player was #8... it was you. 

What a ground shift experience that was for me to realize you have grown into the kid that I want to use as an example. How proud that makes me, I cannot adequately write, but also how terrifying to know that although we will still (always) try to guide you - you're old enough and in your own world and life enough that we mostly have to just watch to see if you can fly on your own. 

And my booboo, you seem to be soaring just fine. 

Booboo,
we are so proud of you buddy.
As I write every year,
this is my annual apology for being so hard on you,
but also my annual thank you for being so gracious with us
as Dad and I try to figure this all out
and this year, it's also a kiss and a hug to you, buddy,
while I can see you're trying to figure this all out too.
learning how to be officially a big kid
and trying to sort out which kind of big kids you want to be like
and sorting out how you can still be like you too
figuring out where 'cool' and decent blend
(oh darling, that is a struggle for all of us)

i love you, booboo.
forever, even when it's hard
even when you're bigger than me
even when we both feel mad and misunderstood
even while we're both trying to figure it all out
i will love you.
mum

Grey at seven

hey booboo,
it's official, you're our bonafide big kid.

As every single year that your birthday rolls around, it's astonishing to us that we've made it all the way around a year again.  Your birthday is particularly striking for us as your parents because - not only does it mean we get to celebrate all that is YOU, but also all that we have become as parents, as we didn't exist as parents until your original birthday.  

It too is a moment for us to check our bearings and brace our feet, as each year on your birthday, we're becoming parents of a new, older age child for the first time ever.  It can be overwhelming stuff, little man, especially for your momma.  And thank goodness for your Dad, who recognizes how monumental it is for me and senses when I'm on the brink of tears and offers up a hug and an encouraging, "you're doing awesome, hang in there." 

The truest thing is, Grey, you make us so proud.  

You make us a crazy too, you know that, but mostly you make us so, so proud. 

You are a good boy, a solid decent human being that people of all ages don't mind to be around...which is actually a huge compliment and feat in today's world.  You're polite and generous and thoughtful and every bit of all of the good in Dad and Me.  I know how much pressure you have on you as our first born (I think it's just the way with first borns, I feel ya, dude) but you deliver nearly every time and we are so very grateful to you for that.  We know your younger siblings are watching you and they could not have a better role model than their big brother, Booboo.  (thank you a million times, our sweet, silly Greyson Rudy).  

I know I can trust you and that brings so much peace to my soul.  You are honest with a knee-jerk reaction in kindness.  Granted, you tease your sister Gemma more accurately than anyone on this whole earth will ever be able to do, but even she announces during the school day, "I miss Grey," so your torments to her are still palpable with the love you two share.  Violet adores you and the two of you and your silly antics deserve their own comedy show.  And Rusty is the luckiest little brother anywhere - the way he makes your eyes and smile light up is enough to crack my heart.  He will learn so much from you and what a gift that is for me, to know my babiest son will hopefully grow up to be like my oldest son. 

You are funny and goofy and still run on turbo speed all day, everyday.  You love sports - your hand-eye coordination comes straight from your Dad's DNA and it's incredible to watch you play anything.  You have a very long life ahead of you at fields and courts, that much is obvious - so we are doing everything we can to make sure you learn about being humble and being a leader and an encouraging force for your friends and teammates.  

We also want to make sure you know that being a great athlete is not the best or most important thing about you - it isn't my darling - it is awesome and something to be proud of, but it is not the only thing about you - it's just one little cool piece of a million other incredible traits! 

Don't you worry, I'm learning all about the way boys pull away from their mums, a lesson I always knew was coming, but this year it's showing itself in bigger ways than ever before.  I know it's about growing up and it has nothing to do with me actually, and so I'm trying very hard to be patient and gracious for the practice now in small doses.  

You spent the night before your birthday sleeping over at fishing camp with your Dad, uncles, and cousin and I knew how much that would make your greatest birthday to date - to wake up at fishing camp and spend your first day as a seven year old reeling in fish and playing in the dirt.  That makes me happy too, to see you so joyful - but I was aware deep in my bone marrow that you would wake up an older boy and I would not be there to see it. 

Of course, it wasn't my absence that made your day great - because I imagine, as all children are certain - your own mother is never actually absent because her love clings to your skin and follows you around wherever you are - it only hurts the mother to be away from her children.  And so, my sweet first born, thank you again for these little practices in learning how to be a mom to older kids that are confident in my love enough to leap off our little branch and fly on their own. I am definitely going to need lots of tiny practices, so please move slowly, my baby. 

You are seven, and many times that seems too young for you in the way you act, speak, and care.  I often times need to remind Dad and I that you are ONLY seven.  You are a big kid - our biggest - but you are still only a boy.  We want so much to do right by you, Grey, because you are so deserving of every good, fun, silly thing on this Earth.  

Thank you, Grey, for being exactly you. 

We are so very lucky to be your family.

My darling, 

I love you forever

even when you are so big, even bigger than me!

my sweet booboo.

mum

Seven Things to do before you're Seven (by Greyson)

I am Greyson
it is my birthday almost.

this is what you should do before you are 7.
my mom typed this list.
butt* they are my ideas

------------------------------

1. Learn to ride a bike with no training wheels. And Rollerblade and to ride a scooter and maybe ride a quad and shoot a BB gun and a bow and arrow.

2. Help your mom and dad: by doing chores and not teasing your brothers and sisters (too much).

3. Do kind-of dangerous things:   like rollerblading, climbing trees, helping dad build a fire, and learning to cook an egg all by yourself.  But make sure you tell a grown up first before you do the kind-of dangerous thing.

4. Be in the dark alone: this can be scary but if you sing a song you won't be too scared.  And remember all of these things are pretend:  Bigfoot, monsters, tigers (they live in the jungle), zombies, aliens, ghosts, and sharks (they live in the ocean).

5. Learn stuff from your grandpas: like soccer, and looking for Bigfoot, and playing catch (baseball or football), riding a quad, fishing, hunting, and fixing stuff and how to use tools.

6. Learn to read.  Some of my favorite books are about Bigfoot, Science, Aliens, and Dinosaurs.  You can learn about cool stuff from books, like about Water Bears and then your mom will look up more stuff on the internet and youtube videos about the stuff you learn in books.

7. Do more grown up stuff: like ordering your own food at a restaurant, pick out your own clothes and shoes for school, help little kids do stuff, fix your own hair in the morning and brush your teeth, go with your family to do nice things for people like helping at church and leaving presents for the mail lady in the mailbox.

*he laughed for several minutes that he intentionally spelled butt like the body part and not 'but.'

----------------------------------------------
it's tab again...
my biggest baby is turning seven this week.
i'm not crying
YOU'RE CRYING.

i'll love you forever my booboo.
forever.
even when you're bigger than me.
even when you don't laugh at butt/but jokes anymore.
forever,
mum

first day of school

Greyson and I both had our first day of the new school year this week.

Our first day of school was the same day, so I got up extra early and set out all of his stuff and left him a love note and repeated to Brandon a hundred times, "and take like a lot of pictures.  Like there's no such thing as too many pictures, please." After I told him I was feeling really bad about missing him on the bus, he reassured me, "Babe, it's not his first day ever, everything's going to be fine." And with eyes brimming with tears I said, "I know, but to the Mum......nope, can't talk about it with bawling.  So just give him a kiss from me.  Like twenty kisses."  Then I hightailed it out of there to my own first day.

My first day went really well.  I have three sections of Spanish I (ninth graders) and they have all been mostly engaged and excited about learning a foreign language for the first time ever (many of them).  It's been fun to get to know 'my kids' and see what kinds of activities work for each class and for each skill.  I feel so comfortable in the classroom, it's been incredible to be back creating lesson plans and finding ways to pour my passion for language and learning (in general) into my students' brains.

I'm so grateful that our family & friends have pulled together for us too, as we figure out transitions for my own actual kids.  (I've been more worried about what's happening at home - my full time job! - than starting this new part time teaching job!) Our family and friends have been so supportive and excited for me, texting and calling asking questions, checking in and sending 'good lucks!'  - thank you!!  especially to Abba, Chum, Gigi, Pappy, Kitty, Uch, Kuma, Morgan, Aunt Dar and double especially to my handsome husband who has been incredible and flexible and encouraging in this change of pace for our family.  

Since my school day is only a half day, I was able to be there, with our three littles, to get Grey off the bus at the end of the school day - and he came bounding down the steps with a big smile.

I was relieved and thrilled to learn that Grey loves first grade, so much so that he even exclaimed, "First grade is Awesome!" after telling me about getting to do a science experiment today..."and I put the blue potion in the green potion and it exploded!"  He was so glad to see that his running back from flag football rides his bus and the two of them sit together and laugh the whole way to and from school.  His best friend is in his class and his teacher is "so nice" and he has two Gym specials this first nine weeks.  It's basically five star days, every school day!

I read this week on Enjoying the Small Things a great quote that is the literal definition for how I feel about teachers and school and my baby and all the feels.

"Still every bit as emotional and consuming because how the hell else is it supposed to feel when you look at a teacher you only kinda know and pass off your beloved child with a, “Oh hey, here’s a cooler with my heart on ice. Keep it beating for the next seven hours and then seven hours again tomorrow and then maybe another 180 days after that.”  -Kelle Hampton

A shout-out and enormous thank you to all those educators out there keeping the 'coolers with our hearts on ice' safe and learning new things and trying their bests.  Gosh, you teachers and administrators and coaches and secretaries, and guidance counselors, and school nurses, and cafeteria workers, and janitorial staff, and bus drivers who help our kids in some small way each day of the school year - I am so very thankful for you.

I think this school year is getting off to a great start and I'm excited to see how Grey and I both learn and grow.  Happy new school year, friends. xxoxx

Greyson at six

my booboo,

When your birthday rolls around, it always seems like an impossibility.
Impossible that another year has swept on by.
Impossible that we have a child as old as you are.
Impossible that you've grown in all the ways a child can grow, but most notably that you are depending on yourself a little more and needing us slightly less.



You, my booboo, are a great kid.  Honestly, you really are and we are so proud and grateful to be your family.

This past year has been a big one for you; you played on your first real team (tball last spring) and since have played on a soccer team and are now playing with the seven and eight year olds on your machine pitch baseball team.  You started Kindergarten in the fall, learned to swim with no floaties, and can ride a bike without training wheels.  You rode your first 'real big kid' amusement park ride this summer and just this week, requested an alarm clock to wake up for school in the morning on your own.

Six for you, Booboo, means stretching across the extremes.  It means going fast; rollerblading, riding your scooter, bike, and quad at speeds that make your poor mumma squeeze her fist, but bite her tongue.  I have watched with a weary heart so you can test your limits and figure out what feels right for you and your courage to try something new.  It also means going slow; chasing your baby sister, slow dancing with Gemma when she asks, and sounding out words to read.

You are incredibly wild and strong, it seems (as it always has) to be a thing that needs to get out of you, like destruction that needs to be released from your soul.  You run, jump, climb, tackle, throw, catch, dig, punch, kick, and stomp.  When you play it is tiring to simply watch, let alone be enlisted as a participant.  We regularly hear from other people, 'boy, can't wear that kid out,' and we nod in full understanding.  This is why every few months, you have a full body shutdown in which your body calls a strike and you sleep for almost 24hours straight.  

But you are also gentle and patient and surprise me regularly with how you control that urge to be wild so you can take care of others.  Your teacher has told us each time we've seen her this year, 'I'd take twenty Greysons any day - he is a friend to everyone.' You make us feel special by asking us how we feel and how our days are going and how you can be helpful.  Your knee jerk response tends to be kindness and for that we are the most proud of you.

You make us laugh with your silly goofiness. You like having inside jokes with each of us, and being the leader of any activity, and having us watch you do things.  You like to be part of 'the group' and try to be adaptable to fit in whatever the group looks like at the moment.  When the group is younger, you try to teach and play gently - when the group is older, I watch you toughen up and try to learn what it means to be 'cool.'

We have always felt blessed that you are our first; the one that is heralding in the next age and stage through parenthood.  You have always seemed to graciously ease us into the next phase and we are so grateful to you for this.  We're learning and growing right along with you, Grey, and your patience and kindness is a beacon to our whole family.  Greyson Rudy Studer, you are a gift to so many people, but no one more so than us.  

I love you forever, my booboo

even when you keep getting so big. 

your mumma

the first days of school. ever.

Whew!  We've made it through the first week of school....ever, and so far are living to tell about it.  Don't mind my melodrama over here, but seriously, thank goodness we've come out the other side of that tunnel.

We started Grey's school year (our first ever as parents) on my 32nd birthday with Kindergarten registration.  The rest of the school district went about their regular first day of school while the kindergarteners (ahem, their parents) got to ease into it.  Grey was so thrilled he could barely stand himself that morning.  He.could.not.wait.to.go.  My Dad came up to stay with the girls (thank you!) while B and I spent the morning at registration.

We got to meet Greyson's teacher, and get lots of great info and calendars (so many calendars, right?  lunch menu, snack calendar, district events calendar, yeesh), and even got to have lunch together.  I did great (as Brandon says) and didn't cry outright at any point.  Inside blubbering mess, but not on the outside - yay me! Definitely never feeling sad about it, just so so excited and also like, holy cow how was he just this little tiny babe and now spending huge parts of the day on his own...like, 'hope you do all the things we've been practicing for the past five years, buddy!'  gulp, gulp, gulp.  Here's a perfect explanation of how I felt in article form that my friend Tara shared with me (thank you!!)

The following day was Greyson's 'first day,' like get on the bus-glass box of emotion for momma - first day.  Greyson was still feeling really excited and  happy and when the bus pulled up, he practically flew (actual off the ground floating) and hopped up on like a champ.  It pulled away and I finally let all that pent up excited/nervous/disbelief/happiness spill out in several (ahem) tears and semi-silent sobs.

Then Gemma walked over to Brandon and I and sobbed, "I'm sad!!!" To which I replied, 'me too, baby."  We decided we both wanted Greyson to "stay home and play with us," but after several hugs from Daddy, his girls pulled it together and continued on with our day.  #dadprobs

That first day at bus pick up time, we made it a family affair (both dogs included!) and met Grey while he sprinted off the bus joyously.  And it continued in this manner (minus the dogs and sometimes Daddy at drop off and pick up) for about another day. And then, the crying began.

And it continued for fourteen days.  TWO full weeks of daily crying (before and after school) from Grey about not wanting to go to school. I'm sharing this because, real life, friends.  As most things in life, the start of school for our family went nothing like I had imagined and well then, you adjust and figure it out.  Which is what we tried to do.  

I'm' a problem solver at the core of me (one of my favorite responses to my family, "don't come at me with your problems, honey, show me the solutions") so I tackled Grey's school worry with all sorts of methods.  

We tried to be encouraging: talking about how much he's learning, asking about new friends, making a big deal over homework and classroom book choices.  

We tried understanding and giving him space to understand his feelings were normal by talking about our own school worries and reading supportive books:  The Kissing Hand , The Invisible String , Pocket Mommy , and Wemberly Worried .  

We tried to be loving by giving him trinkets to take with him to remind us that we were still with him (a necklace of Brandon's when he was a kid, a note with stick figure versions of me and Grey, a marker-drawn heart on his hand).  

We tried to learn more:  I spoke to his teacher at Open House to get her thoughts, I talked to my family and all my friends sending their kids to school.  

We tried giving him extra attention at home:  reading books at night in our bed together, having solo breakfast together.  

And we tried to be no-nonsense too:  "Grey!  There is no getting out of school, we are going to keep doing this every weekday until May...and then every schoolyear until you're eighteen; we got a long way to go here, Buddy."  and "All of your friends are going to school every morning, same as you, and I've talked to their Mommies, honey, and none of them are crying about it!"  

Suffice to say, it was incredibly emotionally taxing.  I wanted to feel like he was 'okay,' but it was also like, "Dude, you're not the only one in this family."  (which I may have said aloud to him during the no-nonsense bit).  

So, after all that, no-nonsense method seemed to strike a chord with him (he is an Aries after all who gets most motivated at the hint of competition) and a combination of becoming more comfortable in his class (figuring out how he fit among a group of twenty kids) and making actual strides in learning new things (letter sounds, word blending! number sense!)  It has been a huge relief for Brandon and I that it feels like 'we made it' somehow through that totally unexpected and very whiny phase.  

Now that Grey is comfortable going to school, we're working on the next phase of figuring this whole thing out which is learning about balancing what feels like us and also running on a third party clock.  The mornings seem to be getting there - although I'd still like to wake up a little bit earlier to have a solid half hour before anyone else wakes up (these dark mornings though have me struggling to get out of bed).  And the afternoon routines need some kinks worked out yet for snack, homework, free play, and making dinner - not to mention any activities or plans we might have scheduled for the evenings.  Ugh, still working on that.  Some evenings, I look at the clock and think, 'omigosh, it's time for bed and we still have baths, homework, and dinner clean up to do!?'

And the homework! Which I am currently photocopying each day because obviously Gemma needs to work on 'her homework' too while Grey does his.  He loves to be in charge, so it works out that he gets to 'teach' her in the process too (double practice for him!)

And it's great to see some run-off of Grey's enthusiasm for learning trickle down to Gemma.  Grey is pretty self-motivated to learn new things (he's like his mumma), but our Gemmi Ro is wired a little differently and needs to also have meaning or emotion attached to things before she's invested in doing well at something.  She knows all her colors, can count to twenty, knows her ABCs - but she just doesn't care if she gets it right every time.  Like no big deal if she just called that blue cup a yellow cup.  Getting the color right is just not that important to her heart/brain.  It's such a foreign concept to my own brain that it can be incredibly frustrating (for me!).  But Grey's learning seems to be inspiring her.  I'll take what I can get, you guys.  

And the girls and I are learning more about what it means to be home just the three of us, while Grey is at school.  It is a lot less loud - we still have those high pitched screams and shrills, but over the general sense of the day it is more quiet.  And more gentle too.  So far it's been baby doll playing and book reading by the boatloads over here.  Board games, dancing, and dress up time too.  It is fun getting to see the two of them in their own special little lights that I am so grateful to be able to do.

We're working on our own little routines together too.  Chores, baking cookies, and giving Gemma and Violet more opportunities to choose our activities at home.  We're trying to work out how naptime looks for Gem - giving her an opportunity to have alone time (choosing her own Netflix show - miraculous for her as the little sister!) and getting me some alone time (hello blog and reading!)  Last week, Gemma started her Preschool Storytime class which is a fun way for us get in special projects, read new books, and make new friends!

So, we're working towards feeling like we've got our groove back now that school is a thing we do.  In the next week or two, I'll also be adding volunteering in Greyson's class once a week to help with guided reading, which will add even more routine to our week.

We're getting there.  slowly, but all together.


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