School starts this week.
Charlie sobbed about the back-to-school open house all morning.
When we arrived, a boy named Michael said, “Charlie! I always knew you’d come back!”
They played pirates and snipers on the reading loft with three other boys.
Everyone forgot school. Everyone remembered friends.
Hello autism class. Hello miracles.
Goodnight summer. Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon.
Henry went to his eighth-grade school open house, mainly to feel superior to the seventh-graders.
I weeded the front yard.
I loathe morning glory.
I love marigolds. Zinnias, too.
I am quite self-congratulatory after weeding.
I drove people to day program, the orthodontist, two different back-to-school open houses, the store.
Motherhood is seventy-five percent driving people around in short, frequent bursts.
I spoke to Jack’s school nurse and the psychiatrist’s nurse five times today about the meds they will give him at school.
Motherhood is ten percent having phone conversations with sundry people on behalf of your children.
Dutch did back-to-school blessings for the boys tonight.
Charlie held his iPad on his lap during his blessing. He did pause it beforehand. Whatever.
Jack sat very nicely and laughed during his entire blessing.
I got a blessing, too. It’s back to school/work/the world for me, two mornings per week.
I am exuberant!