Hello world!

This is my first exciting day blogging as chocolatecherrypie.  So …. grab your cuppa cocoa and read with me.  I want to write about an amazing journey as the mom of two very special children, and the wife of a soon-to-be-nominated saint.   I had a very eventful day, as days go, as I had to take a certain young lady to her kindergarten orientation.  It was a proud moment as I walked away to the parent room, knowing that I had fully prepared her, held her back a year to improve her self-esteem, and that she could handle anything!  My world fell apart in the car when she announced, “Mommy, why did they say Claire (not her real name) is a boy’s name!  It isn’t but they said I had a boy’s name!”

Suffice to say that I lost my breath and could have had a car accident!

“You were named after a princess,” I said reassuringly, thinking quickly.  “A Disney Princess!  How many princes do YOU know who are called Claire.  None?  That’s right, because Claire is a PRINCESS’ name!”

Arriving home, the little princess ran upstairs to watch tv while I plotted my next move … stop her from starting school altogether and have her remain in preschool for life …. or ask the principal to let her skip kindergarten altogether and forge straight ahead to grade one.  Two emails to the principal later, I opted to take a deep breath and try to recover from the trauma I was experiencing.  You know it – the trauma of being a mother when your youngest is starting school for the first time.  It is almost as bad as when they start preschool.  I still remember the moment.  Claire turned three and then announced casually a few days later, “Mommy, I’m ready to start school now.”  Shocked and bewildered, with all my dreams of homeschooling dashed, I took her to the local preschool to “check it out.”  My little baby marched right up to the supervisor and said, “Hi!  My name’s Claire.  I’m here to start school today.”  She started two days later, and I was still in shock two weeks later saying to myself, “What happened!”

Well, here I am reeling with self-pity and blogging about her first kindergarten experience while she calmly snores away in our bed, plotting in her little five year old brain how she is going to explain her sleepwalking the next day:  “Mommy, when you take me out of your bed and put me back in mine …. I feel ….. REJECTED!”   – and not even noticing where she spilled her glass of water all over the sheets.  C’est la Vie!  Soon she’ll be thirteen!

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