Newsletter, Olivia

Month 55

Dear Olivia,

I am a horrible decision maker.  I loathe making big decisions because I tend to place a great deal of importance on the outcome.  I can find pros and cons in everything and I will have anxiety attacks as I try to figure out a solution.  Just ask your Dad about our infamous trip to In-N-Out burger when I was having a near meltdown as I tried to decide between two job offers.  Amidst my nail-biting and thorough discussion with your Dad, a stranger walked up and asked me to stop shaking my leg because it was shaking her table.  I wanted to tackle this woman to the ground and scratch her eyes out.  How dare she interrupt me while I try to think.  I struggle with making decisions because I’m always scared I’m going to make the wrong one and it will be so catastrophic that it will somehow be this domino effect that will turn everything upside down and straight to Shitville.  I hope you somehow find the task of decision-making simple and don’t dwell too much on the negative consequences like I do.  Unfortunately, as a parent, I don’t just have the horrible task of making my own decisions, I’m also responsible for making the right decisions for you and Miles.  Oy vey!

I mention this because I’m at one of those crossroads where I have to make a very important decision on your behalf.  A potentially big decision that could, in my eyes, have severe consequences if the correct decision is not made.  I have a flare for drama – can you sense this?  Anyways, I have the decision to make as to how you will spend your final year before Kindergarten.  This should have been an easy decision had your preschool not imploded a couple months back with a few scandals.  Our plan has always been to start you in Kindergarten when you were closer to the age of six – just to give you some extra time to mature in social situations.  Unfortunately, there has been so much change at your preschool, it’s almost unrecognizable from the first day you started.  You could continue with the hopes that they get their act together over the summer but I feel this may be a bit too risky if they’re still distracted with all the nonsense going on.  None of your close friends will be there next year as some are starting Kindergarten and the others are starting new schools.  We have considered sending you to a new preschool but then we would have to go through the whole readjustment period all over again just to have you do it the following September when you start school.  California has also introduced a transitional Kindergarten class which is geared towards students whose birthdays are too close to the cutoff date.  The drawback here is you would be in a larger class at the public school and I have a feeling you may be with a large number of students who wouldn’t have had any preschool and you may find yourself bored.

I’m clueless as to what to do and unfortunately time is running out and this stresses me out even more.  I shouldn’t have anxiety over this but it’s the last year before you start school and I so desperately just want you to get off on the right foot without problems.  Again, I could go on and on about the pros and cons and spend hours upon hours thinking about this.  I would rather not but it looks like that’s where we’re heading.  It’s ok – if something catastrophic happens in your life, feel free to blame it on the wrong decision I’m about to make in this matter.

I am sad for you that once again, you’re going to have to say goodbye to the friends you have made this year at school.  I’m guessing this is going to be a running theme as nobody seems to be able to sit still in this damn state.  You care about your friends so much that I’ve actually had to have quite a few talks with you about the level of affection you show them.  It appears you have a reputation because I’ve seen the children’s reactions when you approach them to say goodbye.  They either downright refuse, roll their eyes or just straight up run away from you as you chase them down screaming that you want to give them a hug.  A part of me actually questions why these children at such a young age are so cold and disgusted by an act of kindness.  Do these children not receive hugs at home?  Is this a new parenting tactic I’m unaware of?  I have to constantly remind you to ask your friends if they would like a hug as I see them cringing in anticipation of your overly enthusiastic farewell.  Unfortunately, I think you may have learned this from me.  I’m a hugger and I tend to hug people when it may be deemed inappropriate.  For instance, when I was employed by a large wine company, we had just ended a photo shoot and instead of shaking the photographer’s hand at the end of the day, like a normal person, I gave him a hug.  I remember even asking myself in my head as it was happening, “why are you hugging this person?”  The only advice I can offer you is either own the fact that you’re a hugger or get used to numerous uncomfortable situations because it’s going to happen a lot.

I never thought I would be one to ban books in this house – it always seemed rather silly to forbid you to look at certain literature.  I suddenly am a very strong supporter of banning certain books.  This comes in light of you pretending to be certain fictional characters.  The timing couldn’t have been more perfect as a friend of mine just shared this article here.  You’re at this adorable age where you remember full on dialogue and like to pretend you are the harrowing main character who is depressed and out of sorts.  You kept coming up to me in this sad long face, telling me in great detail that the other kids at school don’t like you and just don’t understand you.  You claimed they called you a baby because you like the color pink and it’s only cool to like the color black now.  You would seriously put yourself in a funk for most of the night telling me this story over and over.  I knew the story sounded familiar but couldn’t pinpoint exactly where I had heard it.  That is until one night when we sat down to read, ‘Purplicious.’  The no longer accepted book that tells the tale of a girl who was basically tormented because she loved the color pink and fell in to a deep depression because she couldn’t openly enjoy the color without being bullied.  Believe me, I’ve tried to take these opportunities and try to make them a time where we can discuss these situations but I feel you’re more interested in just playing the part.  Your amazing memory allows you to remember these stories in their entirety including a few movies such as, ‘Wreck-It Ralph.’  You can imagine the joy I experience when I see the expressions on strangers faces when you inform Miles that he’s just a glitch and an accident waiting to happen. 

I always feel like every problem I have experienced with you so far has been child’s play compared to what ever it is we’re dealing with at the present time.  I suddenly have to be aware of the picture books I select for you in fear that you may gravitate towards the hyper protagonist who has a weird obsession with the color pink or the main character who won’t do anything unless it is done in the most fanciest of manners.  Turns out I haven’t been quite the responsible parent as I despise most of the characters in the books you possess.  Just add it to the list of the many things I have been clueless about so far in the field of parenting.  Every day I learn something new and unfortunately, being a parent forces me to do things I despise like making decisions or standing in a public forum being judged by strangers when you decide to have a meltdown in the middle of a Starbucks because I’m not going to buy you Madeline cookies.  I think I just have to come to terms with the fact that I am going to screw you up somewhat.  I say good luck to you in the aftermath and you should totally get started on those Martha Stewart books I have provided you for your entertainment because if there was ever a person to mimic, it would be that lady.  She is downright cuckoo but she can make a mean apple pie while having the best dressed bed.  I look forward to seeing your impersonation.

Love,

Momma

You, according to my phone:

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