Your Daily Miracle: School Begins!
These girls were R E A D Y for school to begin. Martin took a photo of a very grown-up Merry on his cell phone, which you can find on his Facebook page, but alas, I do not have one here to show you. And no, that is not because I was still asleep. I was juggling hair brushes and egg pans and hoping to peel carrots for the kid's lunches, though the bag still sits untouched beside the sink as I type.
My back-to-school day is not the wide, empty vista of kid-less time that you might expect. I have been waiting for this day. . .oh, for eleven years, but I did not picture the packed afternoon schedule that would make up my daily existence: pick up Bea at half past noon, then Merry at two-thirty, with Elspeth topping everything off at 3:45. On Wednesday, everyone gets out an hour early. Upshots include: Charley gets lots of walks; so do I; I don't need to feel pressured to write the next American novel in the p.m. No, that will be left for the mornings.
Elspeth was up early with Merry, busy in the kitchen, whipping up her lunch, already dressed. By 7:45 she was restless with still over an hour until school began (elementary starts at 9:20). Merry pranced out the door in her new, grown-up outfit, backpack bulging with supplies, and she looked wonderful and confident and so happy. It would have made your heart glad to see her, offering me her cheek to kiss and saying, "Goodbye, Mommy," just as she has bravely over the years.
None of the girls ever clung or cried or even seemed sad to say goodbye to us, and we should count our lucky stars, especially since we have moved quite a bit since Merry joined us. Was it Elspeth I watched at two years old, scooting up the stairs to a slide, looking over her shoulder to give a coy little wave? I thought,I am glimpsing the future!
Bea was the same way this morning; she gave me a quick hug outside the school and prepared to march in to start her new life. But I did insist, this first morning, that I accompany her to her classroom. The kindergarten wing bustled with parents and kids, and it was Elspeth who helped Bea find her cubby and hang up her coat and made sure her name tag was fastened well.
We were late, then, to Elspeth's classroom, but nothing organized was happening yet, anyway, and I wish you could have seen her sitting in her desk, surrounded by friends she knew last year, smiling so deeply that her dimple fully puckered. She couldn't keep her hands off her notebooks and pencil box, proving once again that Elspeth belongs one of two places: in a classroom, where she is being challenged, or outside, where she can find constant stimulation.
The grey sky yielded a beautiful rainbow in place of the mountains--an auspicious sign. Charley was the only one who did not distinguish himself today; he peed on his leg and Martin declared him fit only for Dingbat Academy, to which the girls and I agreed he was lucky to be accepted at all.
So where did my day go? My friend Sal just reminded me that good friend Sonya processed a peck of peaches on back-to-school day, among other great things. I, on the other hand, ate almost an entire bearclaw, drank a cup of coffee, and bought a bag of pears. So far, so good. Some of us have to chronically underachieve.
And now I have written myself right to the edge of Merry-pick-up. I hope her day proved to be everything she hoped!
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