Girlhood. Momhood. Lifehood.
Insights on navigating the craziness of life with young kids one — “large coffee with skim please” — day at a time.

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The Wheels on the Bus

January 25th, 2008

This week I received the very first official correspondence from my son’s soon-to-be elementary school.

“Whoa,” I thought, They already know we live here! This is really going to happen next September.

It’s hard to grasp that in just about the same amount of time that my baby boy spent growing in my belly, he’ll be going off to kindergarten. And then apparently, as everyone keeps telling me, the remote control gets stuck on fast forward. Soon we’ll be lost in a sea of soccer games and baseball practices and we’ll be taking pictures of him with his prom date and then driving him off to MIT (you should see the spaceships this kid can build out of Bristle Blocks).

Now mind you, I have spent many a day over the past couple of years fantasizing about what life will be like when my kids are someday in school and I am actually able to be by myself all day long…for several days in a row. Take yesterday for instance, when my 2-year-old Princess of Grumpiness decided to pitch a fit in the store that was SO LOUD I think it cracked the mirrors in the Home Décor section. That, or she’s actually the love child of “Animal” from The Muppets and one really ticked off coyote. All because I wouldn’t let her open the box of Barbie band-aids in the store.

Ah yes…where is that big yellow bus when you need it?

But still, seeing that “To the Parents of” letter threw me for a loop. I showed it to my husband. I marked the “Info session” on my calendar. I created a “Kindergarten” file in my file cabinet (my friends with kindergartners told me to do that, I would not have come up with that on my own).

As far as my nearly-five-year-old is concerned, he can’t buy his new “big boy” backpack fast enough. He’s charged up. He’s ready for the big time. But is it really possible that our first-born, our nine-pound-four-ounce bundle of joy (oh yeah, I don’t make ‘em small) is actually almost of school age?! Didn’t he just learn to sing “E-I-E-I-O?!?!” Perhaps I need a bit more time to process this.

Which is probably precisely why those very intelligent folks who run schools give you nine months to prepareā€¦

Just like Mother Nature does.

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