Carly's world.

Carly's world is spinning and changing.

In Carly's world, preschool was as good as it gets. She loved her teachers and loved going twice a week while still getting a lot of time at home. The end of the year brought an "End of Year Celebration" and a field trip to the zoo (which the twins got to go to; little big kids). She had a good year, and reading the evaluations from Fall, Winter, and End of the Year showed me just how much she has grown. She has really blossomed and loves learning. It is typical, now, for me to say she knows all her letter sounds and can count from 100 to 1 backward and reads Tolstoy. She doesn't. We will be working this summer to get her ready for Kindergarten. But I can tell she is ready to spread those little wings of hers, and I can't wait to watch her fly.

[First and last days of school. Growing brick by brick.]

In Carly's world, daddy is gone too much. The weeks since we have been back from Pullman have been long hard ones for daddy, and in turn, for everyone. I dare say we have held it together rather well, but Carly has always been a daddy's girl, and she feels his absence. She misses him and his role in her evening routine. She misses the one-on-one attention from him, the nightly reading of picture scriptures. The other night she was refusing to go to bed and she cried, "I just want my daddy!" I wish she could have a little perspective, that little 4-year-old brain of hers, that this is but a moment in time and before we know it we'll be settled and scheduled again. But I have a hard time keeping that perspective myself sometimes. When daddy does come home, when daddy does make it to a baseball game, when daddy can tuck her in at night . . . she's beaming.

[When grandma's in town you get pony and camel rides at the zoo.]

In Carly's world, mommy is packing all her stuff in boxes. And mommy is looking a bit tired and overwhelmed. I think the reality of our move is starting to sink in. She is showed pictures of a house she doesn't know, frames are coming off the walls, shelves are being emptied. As exciting as a move can be, it is also hard. It is hard for adults who fully comprehend the benefits and understand what is going to happen. I can only imagine how Carly feels. We are leaving the only home she's ever know and a place we love. It is hard on all of us.

[Morning story time with big sissy.]

In Carly's world, all her friends have moved away. One by one we have bid them farewell, with another one driving away tomorrow.  Her little friend Remi moved in May, and a week later Carly was whining and cried "I want my Remi back!" Her "best" friend moved last week, after one last playdate for the books. Later, we went to the park and Carly asked if any of her friends were coming. I couldn't help but reply, "There really aren't too many left." It is hard to watch, her little heart more impacted by these goodbyes than I was expecting. I know how she feels. My heart aches with every goodbye, because her little friends are the daughters and sons of my wonderful friends. I have gone through this Michigan journey with these wonderful ladies. At times it felt like we'd never see the light at the end of the tunnel, that it would never end. Now I'm wondering how it ended so quickly. What a blessing it has been to have friends to laugh with, complain to, eat with, and run with. These friends have been my sanity and Carly's joy. Goodbyes are too hard.

In Carly's world, t-ball isn't quite what it was cracked up to be. She loves playing t-ball with daddy in the park, but when you're on a team you only get to hit once per inning, and you have to stand out in the field waiting for a ball that never seems to come. Carly can often be found sitting, twirling, facing the wrong direction, or digging in the dirt. Luckily she has a most excellent coach who is great with the kids and does well to get everyone a turn getting the ball. Yesterday she didn't want to play at all and seemed to actually be feeling emotionally overwhelmed by the prospect of playing first base (with all the craziness in her life, I'm thinking first base was just the straw that broke the camel's back). I stayed by her at the beginning of the game, talking her into a little confidence, and by the end she was going much better. I'm not so sure t-ball is her thing beyond playing as a family for fun. But she certainly can whack the ball off the tee. I'm impressed every time. And just because this needs to be recorded to remember: her team is called the Honey Bees.

In Carly's world, comic villains are downright scary. She recently started getting into Wonder Woman after picking out some Wonder Woman underwear. We picked some superhero story books out at the library. They were kid books, but still had the well-known comic book villains because a superhero needs to beat someone. Well, I filled her poor little brain with terrifying characters and here we are 10 days later and she won't go to bed alone. She says "the bad guys just go around and around in my brain." She asks "Is the Joker real? Is Mr Freeze real? Is Poison Ivy real? Is the Penguin real?" What?! You can't remember your lower case letters but you memorized all the villains? It was a big fat mom fail on my part, and we are still working on getting her to feel comfortable at night. She was still fascinated by Wonder Woman though, and after years of princesses I thought it was a nice change of pace. So I found a book on Amazon that told the story of Wonder Woman's origin as an Amazon princess. The book only had two scary pages, one where she beat burglars and one where she fought a dragon. I ripped those pages right on out, and now we've got the perfect Wonder Woman book for Carly.

[Even Queen Elsa needs to work on her lower case letters.]

Carly's world is feeling shakey. I can see it in the way she reacts, hear it in the tone of her voice. She seems to feel unsteady, unsure. It has lead to behavior issues, rudeness and being disrespectful. It has been so frustrating, because Carly is such a good kid with a love for life and a heart of gold. The other day I was putting the kids down alone and Carly wouldn't stay in her bed. I was frustrated, and told her to lay with me on my bed until the babies quieted down and then we'd go back to her bed. She was asleep in minutes. She was so tired. I looked at her sweet sleeping face and I was reminded that this is my Carly, and she still has a heart of gold. She's just struggling. Things are changing. She just needs to know her mom and dad are there for her no matter what. She's little, I thought. It is ok to let her be little. Since then I've been laying on the ground at the foot of her bed while she falls asleep. Not too close, but not too far away. And while a gaggle of parenting experts would tell me I'm wrong, I want her to feel secure. I want her to know she's taken care of and loved. That, despite the change and the tension and the crazy, we are a family and we'll always be together.

I love my sweet firstborn. I'm proud of her goodness, her humor, her sense of fun, and her desire to do good. She's my helper and my friend. It is my job to be the steadying hand in her unsteady world, and I've set new goals to be just that. She is my world, and I'm thankful to be a piece of hers.