7 Quick Takes

1. This week was the start of our fall routine. I made a valiant effort to avoid overwhelming myself and the children with the inevitable stress that results from my own ineptitude at getting up and out the door for scheduled events gracefully.

There's definitely room for improvement next week. We made it to everything on the calendar albeit sometimes late and often on the heels of my sprinting across the neighborhood behind the stroller. Here's how the week shook out.


2. We are headlong into pre-school projects, practice worksheets and reading, reading, reading.




3. First day of dance.

 

L has been anticipating this for the entirety of summer. In the weeks leading up, we ordered a new leotard and skirt of her choice and picked out bigger sizes of ballet slippers and tap shoes. Her ascension into the class for 4- and 5-year-olds was a breath of fresh air for me as I watched her tap and spin in a group full of girls who were fully attentive, enjoying what they were doing and weren't being forced to stay against their will. It's amazing what a difference a year makes.


4. Our first day of Bible study was the event I'd been in constant prayer about all weekend. I had hoped my two-hour separation from the children, while we each attended our separate Bible classes, would not be too much for C to handle. I knew L was ready and she'd have no problems settling in. But C is still so little and ... attached. Perhaps I am still attached, too.

Already running late, of course, I bustled brother and sister into their classroom against the din of mom-and-tot drop-off chatter. It was loud. The teachers were overly ecstatic to see us. Some kids were crying. C sat down next to the race car set, looked up at me with his bottom lip protruding impossibly far and his eyes filled with tears.

I scooped him into my lap and began to sob, too. We made puddles of salty tears together there on the cushy carpet, with motherly-type strangers patting us gently and assuring me they'd all been there before with their own little ones. I pulled myself together enough to take my son to the bathroom and blot our cheeks. I sat little C on the vanity and looked into his big hazel eyes with new resolve.

"This is a happy place. We're going to have a great time. You're going to play and I'm going to have some time with the ladies and then I'm going to come back to you, scoop you up and we'll talk all about the fun we had."

C locked my gaze, searching for reassurance in my eyes, then smiled, showing his big bunny-rabbit teeth. He wanted to believe I was right about all of this and that it would be OK. I smiled back, then returned him to his classroom, kissed him good-bye and asked big sister to take special care of him. I heard him cry when I walked away. Pain settled into my stomach for the next two hours.

When I retrieved the children after class, C was a different boy. He smiled, showed me the craft he had made and didn't want to leave behind the toys he had played with. He told me about his snack of goldfish crackers, a game of basketball and parachute play. L said he cried a little, but she hugged him close and he felt better. We all made it and I think it was indeed a great time.


5. C started mom-and-tot gymnastics. No explanation needed.

 

6. My hope, as we add some structure into our weekdays this fall, is that the children and I will be able to polish some of the skills we already possess, build on our own understanding and try a few things that are new to us.

In the vein of trying new things, I took brother and sis out on a bike ride the other day. C has one of those trikes that he can pedal and steer while I push from behind with a long handlebar. L was on her new two-wheeler with training wheels.

We set out for a two-block spin to the grocery store, which seemed harmless, but I now refer to this outing as the bike ride from hell.

Picture me alternately pushing L and C on their individual cycles--L paralyzed in fear of tipping or going too fast and C barely able to reach his pedals. By the time we arrived at the automated doors of the supermarket, L was screaming and C was so overwhelmed by the whole situation that he started to cry, too. I not-so-nicely urged L to dismount, put her helmet on her handlebar and think long and hard about whether she wanted to ride the bike home after shopping.

We didn't talk about the ride while we filled our basket with fresh produce and moved through the check-out stand. L grabbed my hand on the way out, apologized for not listening to me while we were on the road and announced that she would be walking her bike home.

"That's a very good idea," I said with a stern tone, knowing in my heart that if she was ever going to learn to ride a bike, N would be the one teaching her.


7. We're approaching the end of our lease. We're still homeless, but we're very hopeful. Think happy housing thoughts for us.


Have a fantastic weekend! For more creative quick takes, check out these folks.