Today, Georgia's communication notebook from school says:
"Georgia walked all the way to class today from the bus! We are making great progress with her."
I guess I can see now why good report cards feel so good to a parent! In fact, the bus driver who dropped her off today said Georgia walked on her own to the bus this afternoon as well and up the steps herself. The teacher would not have been able to write about that in the notebook since it would already be in G's bag for her ride home, so it sounds like it was a good day, huh?
My step-mother wrote me a lovely letter the other day and in it she talked about putting on my "hulk shirt" so that I can get through this transition. It's the sort of thing I need to hear, I know in my heart that Georgia needs all this change and that it will ultimately be good for her, but I am tempted to give in sometimes. When she gets resistant in the mornings to getting on the bus (which she has been doing most the week) it can make me feel really bad, now I imagine putting on my little green suit of armour. I guess SOMEone has to be the strong one here! Might as well...no, it MUST BE me!
Talking about the bus in the morning.
And let's not forget my little angel! He's been my trusty sidekick lately. We've been doing all sorts of things together. This morning we had a grand time at music class and then we went for a walk--because it's finally not freezing out!
I don't know exactly why it feels this way, but I feel in so many ways like Rainer is my little teammate. I know this is not fair, but I DO feel like we push him a little bit. I hate to say we are making him grow up too quickly, because I don't think that's exactly true, but we do push him to be as independent as possible. He naturally tries to do things on his own and I guess, in part because we have Georgia who needs a little extra help, I am inclined to encourage Rainer when he shows the littlest bit of ability to do something for himself. He's a good boy. A decent listener. A fine chap and a good little buddy. LOVE that boy. I hope he knows. He's my baby, for sure...but he's growing up and I appreciate his help. Is that weird to say my 14-month-old helps me? Well, he does.