So the first official week of school has come to a close. In fact, the first official Saturday after the first official week of school has very nearly come to a close. . .and we all survived–even thrived this week.
The kids LOVE–let me repeat L.O.V.E.–their new schools. No tears. No missing of Lamkin or their Cy-Fair friends in excess. Not even a little bit. Kudos to the Magnolia school district and their teachers and students. Thank you for making my children feel welcomed and loved.
Tony, too, had a good week. One day he sent me the following e-mail: “My kids are doing interview questions with each other right now, and I can actually hear myself think. I’m considering asking them to be a little louder. And they are even discussing the questions that they are supposed to be discussing. . .” Obviously, this has not been the case for the past 14 years of his teaching experience. He was in shock.
My kiddos, too, are very nice. . .everything going well. . .some of the “good” behavior wore off a little by 7th period on Friday, and I had to put my school teacher face on, but they settled down quickly, and it’s going to be a good year.
Of course, there were some glitches along the way. Victoria forgot her homework one day. . .and it was for the teacher that had been a little stern with another student the day before. A lunch kit was left on the shuttle bus on the second day of school, so that’s gone. And Thursday morning on my way out of the house, I fell AGAIN. I was not in a rush. I was not being careless. I simply stepped on a loose rock, and down I went. Well, actually, it probably looked like a very humorous slap-stick routine. I kind of wish someone had been secretly video taping it just so I could have watched it later on.
I was walking with purpose toward the car at 6:38 a.m., and very proud of my early departure, when wham, bam, blam. . .the ground moved and I began evasive maneuvers to avoid landing on anything but my feet. I was unsuccessful. After making enough scuffling, falling noises to wake the neighborhood, I landed on my left side near a huge tree that we cut down last summer. My feet were in the air, and I knew there would be a price to pay. Luckily, it was just the price of some pride. I wiggled my already injured ankle–which has been healing nicely–to make sure it was not reinjured. It barked a couple of times but was otherwise okay. I sat up and looked around. Nothing was spinning, so I got to my feet. I saw one shoe where I had left it on the driveway, but the other was nowhere in sight. It did not help that it was 6:40 a.m. and still a bit dark out. I finally located it 5 feet from where I’d fallen (an open-backed sandal, so it became a free agent as soon as the momentum hit) cowering under a particularly large milk weed bush. Next item on the agenda was finding my keys that had been in my hand. My bags were on the ground, but my keys were nowhere to be found. Again–dark out–I finally saw them winking at me from under a clump of yaupon in the opposite direction of my errant shoe. It was more like I exploded to the ground rather than merely falling.
After finding all of my belongings, I decided to take a look at my pants. There was a smudge on the knee, but nothing worth taking even MORE time to go back into the house over. I took a deep breath, climbed into my car, and headed out. It was 6:45.
I got three miles from the house, and discovered that I had forgotten my lunch. At this point, my head start was gone, so I turned around and went back to get it–thus adding 6 miles coming and going to my trip. I went into the house, turned on the light, located my lunch, and just happened to look down at my pants. The foyer brightness showed more than the dim light of dawn regarding the state of my pants. The entire left side of my cropped khakis was covered in what appeared to be the left-over results of a very cranky baby feeding himself creamed spinach with dismal results. I have not had to scrub grass stains off my children’s clothes in several years–much less my own–but I did that night.
So, I changed pants, then walked VERY SLOWLY back to my car and tried to leave AGAIN. It was 6:58 a.m. I was already late for school–so I stopped at Sonic and got a large Diet Coke. On the way there, new abrasions kept presenting themselves like bread crumbs–a pants burn on my knee, a gouge on my big toe, a broken toe nail, jabs in several fingers from the yaupon bush I flattened. . .you get the idea.
I had to laugh.
We’re back in the swing of things. . .