Ryann doesn’t transition well. Never has. Even when she was a tiny, tiny newborn she would become inconsolable if something in her environment changed too quickly. She’s been having regular visits with her dad for over six months now and the transitions between houses still throw her for a loop. I try to be understanding of her needs and keep a routine and it helps keep her temper from flaring and those tears of frustration from shedding. But I have a secret…
I don’t transition well either.
I’m amazingly excited and proud that Ryann will be starting Montessori school soon. Excited because she will have so many new experiences and proud because even though the transition will likely take a bit of getting used to, I know she can do it. It’s going to be an amazing journey and I’m so glad we get to be on it!
But I’m also dreading the change in routine for both of us. Instead of waking up and getting ready by myself in the mornings, I’ll have to wake up my little gremlin early so she has time for breakfast and hair brushings and the like before school. And she truly is a little gremlin when you wake her up too early. “MOM! I need to sleep!” *grumble, grumble under the covers* I can’t imagine what it will be like waking her up when she is 16.
One of the magical things about having a Gigi (also known as my mom) is that you can wisk a sleeping babe into the car at 7 a.m. still in her PJs and groggy and know that she will be taken care of, dressed and fed at Gigi’s house for the day. This doesn’t happen every day I work, but it does happen and it has been so very nice to not have to wake an overtired, perfectionist toddler early on those days you just know aren’t going to go right. And there are those days. When the only thing she wants to wear doesn’t match, she can’t stand the sight of a comb and the only food she wants to eat isn’t in the house. I dread having to drag her kicking and screaming to school on those days.
A couple weeks ago Ryann declared, “purple is my favorite color!” in that way that lets you know that THIS time she really means it. And she did. “Purple is my favorite color” has become a mantra. Everything must be purple. She wants purple eggs for breakfast. Purple towels after her bath. Purple walls in our room. Purple everything. Unfortunately, within Ryann’s overflowing closet lies only one purple shirt. One.
It’s tie-dye and it’s two sizes too big.
I’m already planning on hiding it before school starts.