So this is how a heart breaks?

Upstairs there is a little boy clutching a Santa Claus that a stranger gave him tonight at Dollywood.  He's fast asleep dreaming of Woody and Buzz and ice cream, I'm sure.  Every night he asks me to come up and "take a little nap with him" after his Daddy finishes the bedtime ritual of teeth, story, prayers, songs, and bed.  Sometimes I want to scream when he asks because it will have been a long day and my mommy role is all tapped out.  But most of the time I go.  It has become a bit of a routine where I go up there, slip my hand in his, and begin talking to God. 

As we drove home tonight, I began to feel a hint of panic mixed with a lot of sad.  I have written about this before, but I think it is even more pronounced lately.  Kai is growing up.  He's moving away already.  Just the other day he ditched his dad at the park when he thought he had a shot of playing with another kid.  But it's more than that.  More than ever recently, when I am up there at night, I spend my time begging God to allow things to stay the same for just a little while longer.  Not just with Kai but across the board.  It feels like life is so uncertain, and when it comes to Kai, I almost can't breathe to think of the effect bad things could have on him.  Beyond that, maybe it just feels like things are a little too good to be true.  I am in a near constant state of waiting for the other shoe to drop since Cade died, I guess.  Perhaps that is one of those lingering effects.  Either way, I am sure God is a little overwhelmed by a mom spending her nights from 9-9:30 arguing for the chance to do what it takes so things can just remain the way they are. 

On the way home from Dollywood, we stopped for ice cream at the McDonald's drive thru to fulfill a little boy's dream.  We ordered him the chocolate sundae.  As he was eating, he asked, "Mommy, why did you get Kai this?"  He then followed up with, "Mommy, thank you for this ice cream."  To say that my heart cracked a little probably doesn't do it justice.  Is it possible to miss the days when ice cream and a trip to Dollywood complete your baby's world before they are even gone?  If so, that's where I am tonight.  Square in the middle of that. 

I guess change is good for any of us...

It's bad when it's been so long between blog posts that I don't totally recognize the settings anymore...  We are barreling toward summer in the Stowers' house, and the last few months have been a lot of fun...

About a month ago, we (and by we I mean everyone that lives around me except actually me) planted a garden.  What started as a little vegetable project became a 30 x 60 plot.

We celebrated Easter.

And we lived it up at prom 2012...

Also last month I decided on a big change.  I accepted a position as a graduation coach at Carter High, my alma mater.  Changing jobs has been a consideration in my mind for more than a little while, and the timing just seems right for a lot of reasons.  However, it wasn't an easy decision to make.  When I say that West High School and those kids have a part of my heart, I can't be more serious.  Yesterday as a I sat at Senior Luncheon for the last time (at least for a little while...), we watched the video that some of my kids made, and it took everything I had to prevent the trickle of tears from turning into a full out sob.  In a lot of ways I grew up there.  I started when I was 21.  Leaving that place behind is leaving more than just a classroom; it's leaving a lot of memories.  It's leaving memories of the highest highs and the lowest lows.  It's leaving people that I consider family; the same people who helped bear the load when I should have been a new mom but was dealing with something very different instead.  West High School is who I am, and what a terrifying proposition, at this stage in the game, to become someone else.  But, Clint and I worked through it, and we decided to go for it.  That's the thing about a change like this:  it's a family affair.  He is just as invested as I am.  In August I will go back to school.  I will be terribly nervous that first day because it isn't somewhere that I have been in quite a while.  I will be tackling a new set of responsibilities, and I will be sick about missing the nuances of West that I enjoy so much.  In the long run, though, I am praying that this will be really good.  I am praying that I can reach a different set of kids and that I prove to be just as effective there as I feel I am in the classroom.  Regardless of all my hopes, on the drive in that morning I am sure I will have to play a little TuPac to fortify my spirit.  I am trying to find out, I guess, if change really is good for any of us.  

On a lighter note...

Because of yesterday's super depressing post, I figure I have to follow up with a happiness and light update.  To get things rolling...

Brent and Laura came in at Thanksgiving, and we all took the boys to the aquarium.  They had a blast.

Clint's aunt made Kai this hat on the off chance we would have a cold day this winter.  Guess we will just have to put it in the curio cabinet as an ode to what might have been.

We got a new camera at Christmas, so my goal is to become a photographer extraordinaire.  This was my first shot.  Not too bad if I do say so myself.  If the subjects stay veeeerrrrryyyyy still, I think I can be amazing.

There isn't a particular story with this shot.  I just think it's cool.  (Well, besides that strange lady in the background...)  That's not true.  There is a story.  This is the first day we took Kai to the park that he actually climbed the ladders and went down the slides totally on his own.  It was a huge accomplishment for his playground-cautious nature.  He hasn't had that first big playground fall yet, but my heart did stop a few times.  I am fond of all his limbs and teeth, so I am hoping they aren't casualties.  

It's amazing all the things I DON'T take pictures of.  Clint and I went to Orlando without Kai after Christmas.  Not a single picture.  We also went to the FSU vs Notre Dame game.  Not a single picture.  Christmas.  Not. A. Single. Picture. Maybe the new camera will remedy that.  

Some days...

Some days it's really hard to be a teacher.  Not in the grading papers, attending meetings, making copies kind of way, but in the heartbreaking grief kind of way.  The way that leaves your soul bare and your reserves exhausted.  We lost a student last week-not one that currently attends West, but one that we let go just  a mere seven months ago.  He took his own life.  He took his own life.  There is no real reason to repeat that except as an attempt to wade through the actuality.  So, yeah, we lost a student.  The kids came in the doors, and there we were to greet them and do our best at walking them through the first day of the rest of their now very different lives.  It's a pretty tall order.  It's not having the words; it's not being able to fix the broken; it's feeling such sorrow yourself that you don't even have what it takes to fake a conversation.  Some days it's really hard to be a teacher.

Quitters and birthdays

This post is a hodgepodge of the last few months...

So, we're quitters.  We quit school.  Kai is getting his preschool GED.  That no nap thing was killing us.  It didn't just make for a miserable school experience; it made for a miserable week because there was just no way he could catch up.  So, we gave it up.  Just like that, we traded in the Cars backpack for the ride to Nana's.  We handed off the Jesus stories for stolen cookies in mid-afternoon.  We figure he'll catch up...someday...haha.  In the meantime, we went to Michigan.

 He loved the water and the sand.  The water is actually blue, but Instagram makes it look dirty brown like Tennessee..

 Mom and Dad went with us.

 First time on the big boy swing.  He did great. 

 On the shores of Lake Michigan...

I'm one lucky girl.

 Kai loved it so much that he is currently researching his real estate options.  Given the misery that was the twelve hour ride that delivered us to and fro, that might be a good choice on his part.  We do not typically give in to the day time pacifier, but it is the only thing that kept us sane.

His star power shines so brightly that he has to rock shades at night.  Hater blockers, you know?

We are celebrating his birthday tomorrow.  He is turning two next Friday, but we figure he doesn't know the difference, and he's coming out on the better end anyway.  He is passionate about a lot of things, but eating STILL tops the list.  His devotion to it is rather exhausting, and I fear for his waist line, but so far, so good.  He loves cars, books, and "Eldie and Jacks."  He also loves his Nan and Pop, Mimi and Hee (Lee).  To be fair, he loves my mom's dogs more than he loves ours.  In his mind, they exist solely to occupy him.  He is getting better at church nursery; he's made it through two consecutive Sundays.  He loves to dance.  His perseverance is one of the most frustrating things about him, but I think, ultimately, it will serve him well.  He has the memory of an elephant, and he worships his dad.  He is obsessive about the way his clothes feel.  There is a certain comfort level that must be maintained at all times, and if it isn't, we hear about it.  One of the most incredible things about him is his empathy.  He is a very caring kid.  My grandmother is older, and he is her guardian.  He will race to her side to assist her as she walks.  He will remind my mom not to leave her (and, gosh, that is a tough job...haha...).  However, in the same breath, I have to say he is one of the most stubborn people I know.  There are some battles you just can't win with him, and I can't believe those words are coming out of my mouth.  He's two, I should reign supreme, right?  Sometimes it just isn't worth it, and I am trying to roll with the punches.  He will get down on his hands and knees to clean up spilled ice from the ice maker.  He will pick up all the shoes in the house, and he closes drawers.  He also pours out every toy from the toy bin and walks away without a backward glance.  He is a perfect mixture of infuriating and take-your-breath sweet.  He knows how to exploit a situation. He bats those eyelashes like he was born to do it.  I think the hardest thing about him is that he comes by all his "flaws" so honestly, and it's tough to have such an accurate little mirror.  How did that happen?  How did he get so frustrating...haha...?  Here's to a great two years (minus those first three months... :))!

Thinking about Thursdays

Today is the last Thursday of summer for me. It is the last Thursday of lazy mornings with Kai, the last Thursday of lunches with Clint. It is the last Thursday of having total freedom to watch Kai change, and it is something that I am struggling to see go. More daunting is that in two Thursdays, Kai will venture off into the world of story time and playgrounds, snack time and lunchboxes, a backpack of his own. He chose it you know. We went to Target, and he weighed the merits of the Cars lunchbox and a Cars backpack versus the Cars combo pack that included the lunchbox AND the backpack that matched. His tiny boy hands roamed the contours of each until he decided that the combo pack was the way to go. I think it was the symmetry of everything. If he could have only known how much he would cling to that symmetry as we dropped him off into a world that he will only view as asymmetrical, I am sure there would have been no contest. The best thing for him is to start Mother's Day Out. He loves kids. He loves to interact. He will overcome the abject terror he feels when he is with adult strangers. His little face will go from suspect to joy probably by late September. It will become a favored part of his week I am sure. But on this Thursday, all I can think is that two Thursdays from now the little boy I have known won't be quite my own anymore. His horizons are broadening, and I am required to be excited for him in spite of all the rough days I know lie ahead for him. As I reflect on Thursdays, I think back on Wednesday night when we began our bedtime routine of bath, diaper, teeth, fingernails, Gabba, and cuddle. As we were lying under the "bedtime cuddle blanket" on the couch downstairs, his little hands were folded on his chest. I could see his breath going up and down, and it was a picture of perfect peace. My heart was beating so fast because I felt panicked at the prospect of anyone ever leaving him out or calling him names. I was silently begging that whomever is in charge of watching over kids in that way would see him like this and know that though he could probably handle it, his mom for certain couldn't, so to please be easy with the mean kid business. As a mom I have never felt so vulnerable in my life. It is like a kick-you-in-the-stomach kind of love, and it is terrifying. I hope he knows that. I hope he knows that dropping him off in a couple of Thursdays (which I will probably make his dad do) also elicits a terror in me. The fact that I can't protect him from every single thing is becoming more apparent. He will become someone new, and I hope it is someone happy and free spirited and caring. I hope it is those things because my hands are tied. His experiences are his own, and I just have to pray good experiences reign supreme. In ten months, as the next summer rolls around, we will be gearing up for another opportunity to know one another again he and I. I will be amazed at who he has become. Right now, though, I am a little sad for all that will go by the wayside.

Only words

I never simply post here without pictures, and sometimes I think I should. So many great things happen day to day, and I forget them almost immediately. I hate that. For instance, Kai was a handful this morning. He would allow Jackson no peace. Jackson tends to hide under the bed as a general rule because he never knows how the psycho will be on any given day. (I use the term psycho loosely for high energy, maniacal laugh). Today, as he hid under the bed, I heard a hollow thump resounding through my bedroom only to look over and see that Kai had shimmied under the bed and popped Jackson soundly on the nose with his plastic hammer. He immediately cut his eyes at me because he knows that's not okay. And he loves Jackson. After his requisite scolding, he moved on to the living room where he got eerily quiet. I crept around the corner to take a look, and he was half way up the steps playing with the light switches. Like I said, it's been a long day. The best thing about all of this is that he knew he was skating on thin ice, and he knew what to do. Right after the Jackson incident, and right before the light switch fiasco, he sidled up to me and requested a kiss. First time ever. What a Lothario.