In case the 10 million Pinteresty pictures in your Facebook feed of adorable children holding little signs announcing their newest grade hasn’t tipped you off, it’s Back-To-School week!

Yesterday Beth Anne posted wrote a post for Babble that got me thinking. She posted it to her Facebook, resulting in a string of mommy-blogger opinions going back and forth on the hot back-to-school topic of kindergarten redshirting. Dun! Dun! DUUUUN!

If you don’t know, kindergarten redshirting is basically holding your kid back from starting kindergarten so they are older in their class, particularly if they are spring/summer babies that would be young in their class. In my experience it seems parents of boys are likely to do this because sometimes little guys take longer to mature, but I have heard of parents holding back their girls too. I have no problem with kindergarten redshirting if your kid is developmentally or academically behind. I also admire parents who make the difficult decision to have their child repeat a grade if they need to. There’s no shame in that, you have to do what is best for your child.

FYI, I’m an August baby. I was the youngest in my class and hated it. I whined about being the last to get my drivers’ license. My parents told me I was ready for kindergarten and I was going. I did pretty well academically. They also reminded me that many of my friends had their licenses already and could give me a ride. They had no pity for my complaining.

What I think is incredibly stupid is holding back your child for aesthetic or athletic reasons. Meaning, you want your kid to be bigger than the other kids or be better in sports. I’ll admit, I am raising a girl and was raised in a family with girls. Those things were NOT particularly valued in my home during my upbringing. Being the biggest, strongest or most athletic is not at all important to me. So, you understand why I feel holding a child back for those reasons is silly.

However, I have a confession that I fear makes me no better than a vain, redshirting parent.

I am very blessed to be a fertile, regular ovulator. I know, not everyone has that luxury. I feel guilty even saying that as I have many friends who have struggled with infertility. I was lucky enough to time my conception and pregnancy to make sure my babies would be born in the fall or winter so I wouldn’t have to worry about the kindergarten cutoff. I’ll admit, if I had not concieved in time to have my baby between October and February, I would have stopped trying for a number of months, and started again when the time was right. 

I really wanted to have my baby in the fall/winter so I didn’t have to make any difficult kindergarten decisions. The state of North Carolina made my decision for me. The cut-off date here is August 31. Boom. She’s born in November, she won’t be the absolute oldest, but older. She’ll have plenty of Pre-K under her belt and ready to go at 5 1/2 for kindergarten.

So there you go. Apparently conception redshirting is a thing too. Now I can’t scoff at your son, who’s a head taller and a year older than the rest of the team.

This afternoon I watched her, realizing that only for this fleeting, magical time will she dance with her daddy on Sunday afternoons with a tutu and crooked fairy wings. Even the epic tantrum over her toothbrush NOT being pink was treasured and locked away in my memories this weekend. This is the only time we have left to give her all of our attention.

I scooped her up on the couch with her puffy tutu, smelling her unique toddler aroma of baby shampoo and strawberry ice cream. I looked at her and cried. How will I ever love another child like I do this one? I have to wonder if my heart is ready to welcome in more of this overwhelming and humbling love.

These next two months will be sacred for me. I don’t use that term lightly. I don’t know what to expect or what to do, I just know tutu dancing and snuggles will be plenty as I prepare my heart for more.

I’ve been asked, “Amy, you’re 30 weeks pregnant! How do you continue to wear your pre-pregnancy jeans buttoned?”

Simple my friends, simple.

Carry your babies so damn high in your abdomen that they are wedged between your ribs and they kick you in the throat. That’s how.

I felt like Anthony Weiner trying to take this picture.

There is only one explanation for the jerking and failing that is going on in my womb on a daily basis. These kicks feel different from my first baby. Seriously. I’m concerned about this kid’s dance moves.

I think I’m carrying a mini Elaine Benes. 

“It’s like a full body dry heave, set to music.”

-George Costanza

Hello! Are you my male co-worker, father, father-in-law, boy cousin, one of my girlfriends’ husbands, stepdad or grandfather? (Of course you’re not my grandfather. Neither grandfather knows what a blog is nor how to use the Internet.) If you are any others on that list, take a hint and stop reading. Seriously, shoo! Here you go. Not to insult you, but I hear you guys like this. Read it. Go on! You’ve been warned.

Okay, are we all clear?  Good.

Ya’ll, I’m already a lactation sensation at 26 weeks pregnant! I’m not even kidding you. It’s been going on for a few weeks now. Tiny drops here and there. Tonight breast milk came out for real when I squeezed to express a little. I was just curious in the shower as I’ve been feeling it on and off.

I explained to my breastfeeding coworker that I seriously can not see her walking down the hall with her pump without getting that old familiar feeling. I told my mom how itchy and “let downish” I often feel. I was baffled by this as this was NOT the case during my first pregnancy. I wondered if it was just because I know what the feeling is this time?

Regardless it’s bizarre. With my first baby I didn’t see a drop until the nurse in the delivery room explained how to express a little to nurse my baby for the first time. I think my exact words were, “Well, I’ll be damned, there’s milk in there!” I saw the tiny drops of colostrum form and was truly amazed that my body had decided to make food for another human.

Confession. Don’t laugh. I had no idea nipples have lots of little holes. I thought it was just one hole like a cow. Then I thought, “Oh, my God! Do cows have lots of little holes on their nipples, or just one?!” If you are an expert in bovine veterinary medicine, feel free to drop some knowledge on me. Oh, and if you’re like me and didn’t know what colostrum is, skip a step and click here. You’re welcome.

I was thinking about how unbelievably blind I was going into breastfeeding the first time. I knew pretty much nothing and suddenly became a milk making machine. I did what I was told could never be done. I was a full-time working mother who exclusively breastfed for an entire year. I credit this to two things:

1. I didn’t cheap out on the breast pump and got a good one. (My pump was great. I’ve already told my sister to get the even better one than I did.)
2. I just got really freakin’ lucky. I mean, really lucky. (I made a lot of milk and my kid took to it really well.)

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s showing up so early, but it just made things really real, you know? I know I’m pregnant and I know we’re having another baby, but honestly, I haven’t done much to prepare for this child. Granted, with my first pregnancy I started a blog, dove into message board groups, did copious amounts of stroller research, found the safest non-toxic nursery paint and registered for everything everyone told me I would ever need, ever.

For this baby…uh. Well…we have an empty room with a closet full of infant equipment handed down from his/her big sister.

Those little drops on my boob made me realize I do have a few things I want to accomplish before I bust out the old pump again. ::sigh:: Okay, Baby 2.0. You’ve made it known with your kicks and milk that you are on your way. I promise to be ready for you. Clearly I’ll be ready to greet you with a drink. Cheers!