Our school district has a system in which they can call every family in the schools with recorded messages. I have gotten calls from the school nurse telling us they found lice in the school. Messages about absences have been left on my voice mail and even a reminder that we were on a school break... "enjoy the week. School will start back on November 26. Please be on time. Happy Thanksgiving." That one annoyed me. Basically the message said, we don't want your kids at school next week cause we won't be there (duh) but we will start back next Monday. We want you there then and we want you on time, like all the parents had turned into slackers with a week off. And by the way, Happy Thanksgiving.
Anyway, it has been nice not to have to scramble, yell and herd children out of the house at an ungodly hour for the past week. But it is over. No more "slacking" for me. I have located the bull horn and whip that I had misplaced for the last week due to disuse. I am ready for the challenge. Whatever.
I am ready for my 4 years old's daily crying jag because the seat belt is twisted or her clothes are not laying right. I am ready for the 2 year old's repeated call for "juice mommy" "juuuiiiicccceeee!" when we have to rush out without it. And the guttural Damen like quality of his little voice. I am ready for the 6 year olds tears as he asks me not to leave him while the cars behind me in the drop off line pile up.
I am ready for the trip to elementary school and then my daughters preschool to drop off the two older ones. The losing debate in my head as to whether I can afford to spend the $3 for a raspberry latte, (actually this is not to bad a thing in itself) and the quick ride home to clean up breakfast dishes, get the baby a nap and then wake him in time to go pick up the 4 years old... only to rush home, get lunch, spend 40 minutes wandering around wondering what I can accomplish in such a little window and then the shuffling out again with two small ones in tow to pick up the 6 year old while avoiding the pick up line which requires parking across the street from the school, unloading the two little ones, traipsing across the street to wait and grab my boy. Then make the trek back across the street and hope the crossing guard takes pity on me and doesn't make me wait too too long. Then pack the kiddos all back up... ride home and squander 3 hours before Daddy comes home and rescues me.
I love it all! I miss it. Wouldn't you?
9 hours and counting... tick tick tick... and we are off to the races.