She’s not a baby any more.

5 09 2007

Today is Willow’s first full day of Kindergarten. Her first full day going alone. Right at this moment, 8:21 am, she should be sitting on the bus, making her way to school. There are some other kids that live in our apartment building/complex that she knows, and who are a year or few older than she, so she can follow their lead. I just hope she doesn’t freak out and start to panic. I think she’ll be alright though.

I’m probably more worried than she is. This is such a big day for her. I thought about taking the morning off, or at least come in an hour late or something, but I figured it would probably be best if we made the day as normal and routine as possible. I’ll call Lindsey in a little while and see how she did. I’m not too worried about Willow catching the bus after school; I’m sure they’ll have teachers out there to help the new kids. We’ve tried to make sure that Willow understands that if she gets lost or scared, that she can ask a teacher for help.

Once she gets used to it, time will fly by, and next thing we know, Ari will be going off to Kindergarten. Then we’ll have graduations. And college.



Happy Birthday, Willow!

24 07 2007

Just this past Saturday we had a birthday get-together for Willow. She turns 5 today.

It seems like it wasn’t very long ago that I got The Call from Lindsey: “Honey, I think you should come home now.” I can still remember hanging up the phone and shuffling dazedly over to Mark’s cubicle and telling him I had to go. He didn’t need me to explain – not that I could have, given my state of mental capacity at the moment. I don’t remember much of the drive home, but I do remember that Lindsey was much more calm and relaxed than I was. I don’t remember driving to the hospital, either. I will never forget, though, the moment Willow took her first breath; she didn’t cry, she just uttered an annoyed grunt. We were so blissfully excited, tears streaming down our faces, that we didn’t even bother to check the gender of the baby. After about twenty seconds (which seemed like a long time) Lindsey said, “Wait! What is it?” We all looked to see whether we were holding Willow Shea or Rowan Emrys.

I remember going out to tell our mothers that we had a little girl named Willow Shea. I was crying uncontrollably because I’d never imagined that a person could experience so much joy, pride and love at one time. Little Willow wasn’t five minutes old, and I already loved her more than I ever thought possible. I loved her since the moment we found out Lindsey was pregnant.

I know infinity to be real because it’s the only thing that can contain the love, joy, and pride Willow invokes in me.

Happy Birthday, Willow.

I love you more than you may ever know.