To everything there is a season

For the most part, our babysitting days are over.  Our little girl, Cora, started preschool yesterday.  Both Cliff and I were a bundle of nerves, hoping she'd be OK in this new stage of her life.  Mid-morning I received some pictures of her playing with her new friends, laughing and smiling, and felt better about things.  

You see, we did spoil the child.  We hadn't been around a tiny baby enough to actually get to know one for a long, long time, and she was so cute, loving, and easy to spoil.  Cliff hardly ever told her no about anything, and while I've been the enforcer, I've allowed her to get by with plenty, too.  We don't have fancy, delicate things, so we didn't care if she jumped on the bed like it was a trampoline, or mountain-climbed on the chairs and couch.  I don't wear shoes, so when she began following my barefoot example, I let her go:  One of her parents would bring her in the morning and she'd have her shoes off before they walked out.  People marveled at how she could walk on gravel barefoot; well, I taught her everything I know, good or bad, and I walk barefoot on gravel too.

Difficult as it is for either of us, we'd get down in the floor and play with her and her toys any time she asked.  She made it worthwhile for us by telling us she loved us multiple times daily, and she always had lots of hugs and kisses for us.

I have countless videos of her first steps, of me reading to her, of her dancing or helping me cook.  I'd give anything if I had that many recorded memories of my own children, but back before digital photography, it wasn't so easy.  I've treated Cora SO much better than I ever did my own kids!  We used very little physical punishment on her, really.  As she got older, we learned that timeouts served as adequate punishment.    

The early days

Because we hadn't had much interaction with babies for so long when she came into our lives, Cliff and I were both nervous about even picking her up.  She was such a tiny little thing, and our kids had each been over eight pounds.  So we handled her as though she were fragile.  Every day we had her here, we laughed and smiled and just sat back in wonder at how very smart a tiny baby can be.  I bought a little doll when she was a couple of months old, then another.  I'd perch them in unlikely places, perhaps hiding one under a blanket on the floor when all she could do was scoot around on the floor.  She learned to search for "her babies" high and low when she first got to the house, because sometimes I even perched one on the ceiling fan.

I bought age-appropriate toys as she grew that I will be boxing up soon.  I'm not getting rid of them, because it's nice to have toys when kids come around.  We hope to see Cora occasionally, as fill-in sitters, so she may still want to play with her toys sometimes.  

Cliff and I were on pins and needles yesterday, knowing our girl was moving on to a new situation.  I imagined her crying, because she had lately made it known she did NOT want to go to school.  Her out-of-town grandma went with her yesterday and stuck around awhile, so I'm sure that helped.  From what I've been told, she was reluctant to go at first, but then mid-morning I got a couple of photos:  She was playing with the other kids, smiling and having a good time.  I went running walking briskly out to the pasture where Cliff was mowing, flagged him down, and told him Cora was fine.  We both felt better the rest of the day.  

Cora now

I hope to get back to regular blogging now.  I already have ideas for a couple more entries, and I certainly have uninterrupted time to sit at the computer now.  We'll see how that goes.  

Peace