As I mentioned yesterday, LittleBrother has been experiencing his first-ever “class” scenario. It’s an hour and a half of songs, stories and crafts. And other kids.

The latter being the kicker.

Brothers

LittleBrother is a social dude. His “awkward-hide-behind-Mommy’s-skirt” phase pales in comparison to how BigBrother refused to socialize at the same age. He likes other people, especially other kids. But his interaction with large numbers of other children are limited to an hour at the YMCA (er, “The Y”) child care (seven kids max). Even our church’s child care is limited in numbers right now. So while LittleBrother loves kids, he’s never really been in a setting where there were lots and lots of kids. (At the beginning of the week, one class featured 12 boys and 6 girls. Numbers have continued to rise as the week has gone on.)

Things have gone extremely well for both boys. Until yesterday.

Due to the size of the class, they have separated the kids by age when it comes time for crafts. The younger kids need more help and sit at one table, while the older kids who need less help sit at another table. This means that BigBrother and LittleBrother are, woe, separated. Of course, they’ll be separated by classrooms this fall in preschool, so it had to happen at some point. I’m not overly concerned, but I didn’t know how LittleBrother might respond. His brother has always been there, for better or worse. Back to craft time yesterday…

Someone spilled water on LittleBrother’s Toy Story sandals. Despite my repeated explanations that water doesn’t hurt, LittleBrother freaks out about spilled water. Especially on him. And apparently especially on his beloved sandals. So, he cried.

Now, remember, I’m not in class, too. The following happened organically.

BigBrother walked over to LittleBrother, took his cheeks in his hands (which we call “cheeky-cheeks”), gave him a hug and kiss and told him that it would be okay. And LittleBrother stopped crying.

Pardon me while I melt. And then pardon me while I attempt to figure out why they can’t act like that at home.

Brothers Walking to Class

I am so, so, so, so glad they have each other. (And yes, I will remind them of this story forever.)

 

I’m kind of upset with myself.

We’re experiencing our first out-right scheduling fail since I went back to the out-of-the-home work force this past October. Even though I’m (very) part time, I have dropped the ball. Big time. As you know, we’re camping right now. I’ve had to leave for four hours per day to work on one of my freelancing gigs. But we’ve got family all around us and the boys enjoy playing with their cousins, grandparents and associated extended family members. The leaving every day is not the problem.

I work every third Saturday at the newspaper. It just so happens to be this Saturday. I didn’t think anything of it for various reasons. I figured I would take all of my clothes, dirty laundry, books and what not home so that we would have a lighter load when we return home Sunday afternoon. And that would be fine, because the boys’ program was Sunday afternoon. So, I’d get back Sunday morning, laugh as they sang and danced on stage and we’d all go home, happy and relaxed.

Except… the program is on Saturday.

Did I mention this is the first year that LittleBrother has attended class and thus this will be his first year preforming in said program?

#Fail, #fail, #epicfail.

Yes, my mom can record it with our Flip… if I teach her. And yes, most likely FireDad will be able to get back to camp on Saturday to watch the boys sing and dance and smile and such. And yes, the boys will even survive without my presence. But, man, I’m feeling way guilty for many reasons. For not being more organized and realizing the scheduling flub while I could have fixed it. For somehow short-changing our younger son when I was at his brother’s first program ever. For choosing to work outside the home. For everything. For nothing.

But, man, the guilt. And, yes, I’ll get over it. But when I look back at BigBrother’s first program, at the same camp, I get kind of weepy that I won’t be there to see my little Bubba stand there and refuse to sing, too. So excuse me for a moment while I feel sorry for myself.

And since I’m doing that, here’s a video of BigBrother’s first program (navy blue striped shirt).

And, even funnier, here’s a brief, one-video song from last year’s program. BigBrother is a ham (green striped shirt).

Oh, memories. I’m really kind of sad that I won’t be there to make the memories with them this year. Thank goodness for technology. (And, yes, I realize we could have much greater problems. But I’m still upset with myself.)

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