Kindergarten

One night in August, I had one of those vivid pregnant dreams that was so emotion-ridden that I could not shake it. Even a month later, I could not shake it. It was so saturated with the very tenderest of feelings, that I awoke from it with a soaked pillow and tears flowing down my cheeks. A very disturbing experience.
The dream played out Nolan's first day of school in such detail that I was reluctant for the approach of reality's version. The month following necessitated the wearing of a mask and some dramatics. I could not let on how very little I looked forward to sending Nolan to Kindergarten. He was excited. I feigned excitement.

Riding a bus is awesome!
Teachers are kind and gentle!
New friends!
Circle time!
Neat things to learn!
Fun projects to make!
Lunchtime in a cafeteria is an adventure!
Recess on the playground is great!

These, I rehearsed again and again, as much for my own reassurance as for his.

And then reality encroached. The four of us waited at the end of our driveway in the rain, chattering excitedly (hiding trepidation). The bus approached, the man at the wheel smiled, there were hugs, kisses, waving, last assurances offered, and he was gone, off on his first big adventure independent of his mother. It pulled at my heart, but I put on my mask and bravely waited the day, with a lonely younger brother, for the bus to return.

When it did, my five year old hopped off, looked up at me, and said, "I liked school!"

She's a Boy!

At our first acquaintance, the kitten was confidently proclaimed a female by the lady who owned the mother cat. We traveled home, our girl cat snuggled on one boy's lap, then another's, as we tossed names back and forth. We've become professionals in the juggling of name possiblities. In 2011 alone, we've practiced on a dog, twelve chickens, a baby, numerous stuffed animals, and now a kitten. A girl kitten. The three of us (read: Nolan) finally settled on "Belle", the perfect name for a beautiful little cat. And so she was called. I hadn't thought to verify with my own observation the gender of this cat, it was simple to take the lady at her word. Who really wants to study the appearance of a cat's hind-end anyway? I wasn't volunteering or venturing initially, but over time, I couldn't avoid at least a few glimpses of Belle's parts. I don't have training in feline gender identification, but it seemed Belle's parts were slowly evolving and better suiting her for a name like Beau. Every so often I would mention my suspicions to PTB who would assure me in an unconcerned tone that Belle looked like a girl to him. His manner and supposed confidence would appease my concern for a while until the next glimpse I got from under the tail. Yesterday, after one of these glimpses, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed a professional's opinion. I consulted Google, read this, watched this, read this and wound up 99.8% sure that the feline we've been referring to as "she" and "her" is, in fact, male. When I broke the news to the boys, Nolan was pretty quick to come up with a boy name. Rocket Ship. So now we make reference to our kitten with "Rocket", "he", "him", "she", "her", "it", "Belle", and just plain "kitten". It's going to to take some time before we become accustomed to her being a boy.