Thursday, August 18, 2016

First Day of School

                          
My children going back to school was anti-climatic this year. I feel like they just got out of school and that we are returning after a long weekend. The children did not have a sense of excitement about the whole thing. My 10 year old was nonchalant. "Are you excited about going back to school?" She shrugged. My oldest was more honest. "Are you excited to go back to school?"
She replied, "Not really. It's kind of like going back to prison." Then she went on to list all the reasons that school is similar to prison. "You're being ridiculous! The school doesn't even have barbed wire around the perimeter..." Also, the prison system is better funded than the education system, which is just the worst.
                               

The night before the first day of school we made the girls pick out their clothes for the week. They laid out their shoes and packed their book bags and set them by the front door. We sent them off to bed early. We went to bed early too. We were about to start a 180 day marathon, after all.

The alarm went off at 6:00. I opened my eyes. I was curled up at the end of the bed like a dog and my 10 year old was on my side of the bed. What the hell happened? I groaned, "Hit snooze!" My husband did as he was told. After 3 minutes, my 12 year old came in, bright eyed and bushy tailed. "Guys, it's 6:03. What time are you getting up?"
"6:09."
"Why? That's random."
"Snooze goes for 9 minutes."
"Why 9 minutes?"
"Because it's enough time for you to fall back asleep but not long enough for you to go into a deep sleep. It's science or something. Let me rest now."

She didn't let me rest. She talked...and talked...and talked. She told me that she got up 2 hours ago and that she couldn't get back to sleep. She talked about how she decided to use her Vera Bradley book bag and not her hobo book bag. She seemed awfully excited about the first day of school for a kid who compared it to prison.

The alarm went off at 6:09 and she threw her hands in the air. "Up and at em' engineer!" GROAN!
"Do you know the story of why we say that?" I asked.
"No."
"There was this book that you LOVED when you were a baby. The first line was "Sun's up/ Morning's here/ Up and at em' engineer."
"You memorized it?"
"Oh yes! You would make us read it all the time."

This freaking book,

            
She would carry it around with her and demand that we read it at all time. It didn't matter what you were doing. I'd be in the kitchen making dinner and she would walk in with her little toddler self and demand, "READ! TRAIN!" When your toddler tells you to READ TRAIN, you'd better READ TRAIN. I've read this damn book in the car, on the kitchen floor, a million times before bed, on the toilet with a two year on my lap. I tried hiding it once and she had a full on freak out. So it came back.

We finally had to get rid of it because the spine had come apart, some of the pages had been ripped. The cover was scratched from being dragged across the floor. Yet 10 years later we still tell the children, "Up and at em', engineer." The legacy of Chugga-Chugga Choo-Choo lives on in this house.

Anyway, back to reality. The kids got themselves ready to go. I went downstairs and cooked a hot breakfast and made lunches. Most hated task ever.

We sat down together and had breakfast and then went outside to take pictures. The girls weren't being jerks this year and actually stood next to each other and SMILED. It was super awesome.

They hugged me goodbye and and loaded into the car. I stood in the driveway and waved as they drove off.

That was it. It was over. There were no pangs of sadness, no nostalgia, not even one tear. It was just me standing alone in the driveway.

They came home that evening and told me about their days. Everything went well. There were no hiccups and no drama. We made it through day 2 just fine.

This morning though, it was rough. I didn't sleep well. My 10 year old woke me up at 2 am to throw the cat on my bed. "This cat keeps attacking my feet and waking me up! I HATE YOU, JEFF!" She yelled before stomping out of the bedroom and slamming the door. I was disoriented. What the hell is happening? The cat just sat on the side of the bed and looked at me like, What?
                                                    
I couldn't get back asleep. I stared at the ceiling for an hour, then I had crazy dreams about swimming in water fountains and breaking into people's houses. When the alarm went off, my husband and I were not ready. He got up and rubbed his eyes, "Dude! We have to do this every day?!?! Getting up early is the worst." It's only day 3 and we are already struggling. It might be a tough year for us.





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