I bow, reverently, respectfully, to all the moms and dads who have been taking children to school, commuting, packing lunches, making meetings, signing releases, finding immunization cards and keeping appointments, helping with homework (but not too much,) smiling, cooking, cleaning, volunteering and more. I salute you. I am in awe. You deserve a medal, a holiday.
3 children :: 3 schools.... What's this, day 2? Is that all? Good grief.
Yesterday, with Maria sound asleep, I left the house to start the pick-up process. The magic School Bus left the house at 1:15 p.m. and we did not pull in to our driveway until 3:15 p.m. There were no errands, amusements, side-trips or excursions. We were in transit, in traffic and transfixed by the masses. Every street was a sea of vehicular mayhem.
Does it let up?
Will it get easier?
The mornings are negligibly easier. Geoff takes Max, because I cannot be 3 places at once. Evidently I can be 2 places at once. You didn't know that about me, did you?
It's pointless to whine. I have no right to complain. Lots of people do this sort of thing all the time. I am a total newbie. My tales are nothing new to anyone else and I'll get no sympathy. I hang my head in shame and shudder at the thought of managing this when the novelty wears off! lol
Yesterday Maria and I sat across a rustic table, seated outside, and we shared a lady's breakfast. We ate slowly, we conversed, we giggled, we reflected on the changes in our lives. After breakfast we went to the library and came out with a fresh stack of good reads. Then we made friends at the park. We were caught in the rain; a shower that lasted 4 minutes and left about 10 drops per square foot. We hoped it would rain in earnest. It did not. We stayed outside. Maria tried all 5 slides and climbed the funny ladder, she did somersaults. She fell asleep on the way home, and forty minutes later it was time to go get her brothers.
Maria has spent most of the summer anticipating her birthday, which comes at the end of November, and is pronounced derpday. It almost sounds like dripday, but really is slightly more DERP than DRIP. She talks about her derpday or anyone else's derpday almost constantly. Derpday themes, derpday menus, derpday guest lists and invitations, derpday activities and derpday decor.
Her only birthday party was attended by some family and we sat together and colored, then ate a blueberry cake.
She's looking to upgrade.
I mentioned the chocolate-princess-butterfly-glitter cake. There are also her plans for: "Disneyland, Easter eggs, dress like a princess, brownies, ice-cream, noodles, pizza, pie, snow, bicycle rides, camping, sewing, playing, swimming, and, and, and mashed potatoes, and what else have we got to my derpday now? I don't know what else to my derpday either. Oh, well. I can't wait to my derpday. I should open up my lots and lots of presents. And I really can't wait."
She left quite a bit out. She adds new things hourly. All good and promising things she attributes to her birthday.
It's kind of scary, and kind of infectious. I want a derpday too.
I also want a nap. Pick-up time is only 3 hours away