Today is the day. The culmination of six years of imagery come to life. My first-born, Lacey, goes to kindergarten. Not to mention, Reid will be in 3′s preschool. I suddenly have three free mornings a week and in the blink of an eye, life is scheduled again. No more lazy mornings at the breakfast table. Alarm clocks are back with a vengeance that seems borderline barbaric. Spontaneous pool trips will be a distant memory. Instead of talking about vacation plans, we are discussing Halloween costumes.
I’m okay with it.
No more sibling bickering which has been the theme of August. In July, everyone was happy but these last ten days have shown a cohesive desperation for structure. The kids are itching to expand their minds and for the socialization that school brings. The ends of my rope are fraying, a sign of the inevitable.
We had a beautiful summer. A collage of happy days coupled with hard days.
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Crafts using random crapola, adventures at the library, picnics, birthdays, trips to see cousins, and crazy dress-up days. Balanced, of course, by grumbling at the grocery store and the inevitable whining that wears thin.
We lived in a bubble mostly due to Reid’s elimination diet. A little respite time can be a good thing. Typical summer trips to Chick-fil-A or TCBY were out which put a damper on life for a hot minute. Until I realized that we were okay. It became a version of unplugging that made me embrace the little things.
Don’t think I won’t hit the drive-thru while Mr. Reid is in school. I’m only human.
Last summer, I was too loosey goosey so this summer I added a few structured activities. Lacey enjoyed an afternoon art camp while Reid had a few morning craft sessions at a local kids’ art studio. The big girl also attended her first day camp, where she caught multiple fish and mastered the bow and arrow. Sprinkled in were swim and tennis lessons when it wasn’t raining.
Which was rare.
Regardless we swam. And swam some more. Two beach trips is gluttony. And I’m better for it.
I’ll remember this summer as my grandmother’s last. She passed away earlier this month, a few weeks shy of 93. “Mimi” moved in with my parents in May, after entering hospice care. There was a lot of precious time soaking up her presence. She enjoyed the kids so much – it was an honor to watch them interact with their great-grandmother. As nice as it was to spend time with one of my favorite people, it was hard on my parents. Death can be a long, drawn -out process and although the ending is sweet, the journey can be rough. Thankfully, we had the peace that closure brings before our new beginnings. Life is so poignantly planned sometimes.
I’m nervously anticipating the chaos of the next few weeks. The tides are shifting but back to school time can be cleansing. I’m in a purging mode. Beware the crazy woman on a rampage.
Happy Almost Fall. Bring on the smoky smell of tailgating, mingled with the sounds of football and the colors of nature.
Assuming the sun decides to shine one of these days.