Summer: Wed., 9/5
Last day of summer. We were all on edge. L&G swung between playing together happily and trying to kill each other, setting up elaborate slumber parties for their AG dolls and slamming the door in each other's faces. In other words: time for school to begin. Even I, the summer lover, admits it's time they go back.
We played Blokus today, and I did laundry. Late in the afternoon the girls got their hair cut, and then we went out for sushi for our final dinner of the summer. Andrew Uber-ed over to meet us.
Tonight I have to put names on the school supplies and make sure everything's packed up for tomorrow. I know it'll be chaotic tomorrow, I know that, and I'm really hoping that I won't make a public spectacle of myself like I did last year when Andrew and I rushed to the school to meet the bus and found ourselves--as we do every year--in a crush of people. In my defense, my five-year-old was missing somewhere within that crush of people, but still. I was sent to the principal's office with the instruction not to emerge until I'd calmed down. Greta, of course, eventually appeared. I don't often make public scenes, but when I do, I go big.
Anyway. Greta knows the drill this year, and even in the morass of people, she'll know how to get from her bus to her class line at the back of the school; so I don't have to worry about her too much. I'll be able to walk Lucia to school and go in with her, all the way to her classroom, so I don't have to worry about her too much, either. I will let someone else be That Mom this year.
It's been a good summer. A new season begins.
We played Blokus today, and I did laundry. Late in the afternoon the girls got their hair cut, and then we went out for sushi for our final dinner of the summer. Andrew Uber-ed over to meet us.
Tonight I have to put names on the school supplies and make sure everything's packed up for tomorrow. I know it'll be chaotic tomorrow, I know that, and I'm really hoping that I won't make a public spectacle of myself like I did last year when Andrew and I rushed to the school to meet the bus and found ourselves--as we do every year--in a crush of people. In my defense, my five-year-old was missing somewhere within that crush of people, but still. I was sent to the principal's office with the instruction not to emerge until I'd calmed down. Greta, of course, eventually appeared. I don't often make public scenes, but when I do, I go big.
Anyway. Greta knows the drill this year, and even in the morass of people, she'll know how to get from her bus to her class line at the back of the school; so I don't have to worry about her too much. I'll be able to walk Lucia to school and go in with her, all the way to her classroom, so I don't have to worry about her too much, either. I will let someone else be That Mom this year.
It's been a good summer. A new season begins.
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