I definitely fell off the blog bandwagon for a while. The month of May seems to have disappeared. Memorial Day has come and gone and summer is definitely here, officially or not, 92 degree days and afternoon thunderstorms says summer to me.
I haven't been writing because I haven't had much to say I guess.
Things are good. Normal. Quiet.
I hit my weight goals and have comfortably maintained them.
The girls are good. Lizzy is still two, so there's that level of challenge but on most days she's still a pretty reasonable little girl.
Ali 'graduated' from preschool and will be heading to kindergarten in August.
That wierds me out in such a major way. She'll be riding the bus. To school. With kids. Big kids. Mean kids. Nice kids. All kids. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I'm not sure she's ready for this. She can't tie her shoes. Shouldn't a kindergartner know how to do that? Am I failing as a parent because she doesn't?
I've been teaching her to open her own applesauce without making a mess, so I can send applesauce to school with her. How to open granola bar wrappers, because I've always done it. I worry she won't be able to open a Tupperware container with her lunch in it.
Am I completely ridiculous to be stressing about this.
Will I stop.
I'm having actual nightmares about putting her on the bus and having her sob so hard the other kids make fun of her.
In short. I think I have officially turned into my mother. And my grandfather. Expert worriers about absolutely everything they have no control over.
Excuse me, I need to go have a panic attack.