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How You Like THEM Apples?

We’re in the throes of September, so our days are now dominating by all things school-related. Things like:

So, returning to school in September is always a mixed bag for me. The concept of “more time” with “just one kid home” is an illusion. First of all, my day is anchored around the transporting of children to school, which sucks up way more time than I’d like it to.

Q: Have you ever tried to ferry five children out of the house by 8:30am?

A: If not, DON’T. Because it’s friggin’ impossible!

 

#1 is off to junior high by 7am, so that leaves me with four school-aged children to get ready, plus a generally unenthusiastic #6, who expressed his displeasure at his early wake-up call by getting into ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.

And then there are the shoes…

I don’t get it. There’s a shoe rack, strategically situated right next to the front door. Shoes go on it the minute we get home. Yet nonetheless, every.single.morning, as we are about ready to leave, at least one child and I have this exchange:

Me: “Ok, ok, time to go! Grab your bags…”

Child (usually #s 3 or 4): “But I only have one shoe. I can’t find my other.”

Me: “Now?? You’re telling me this NOW??”

This then creates a flurry of panicked digging, complete with #6 gleefully hurling shoes at the rest of us as we frantically find the lost shoe.

So bruised and rushed, we open the door to head to the car, facing our next gauntlet:

THE SPRINKLER.

We have automatic sprinklers set up to water our lawn each morning, via a timer. I know nothing about the timing mechanism; that’s The Captain’s area of expertise. And unbeknownst to me, the timer was re-set earlier this week, so that the last cycle doesn’t finish until 8:45.

We leave the house at 8:30.

So for three of the last five school days, as I attempted to hustle the kids out the door, I opened the door to find (much to the children’s dismay and my own) that the sprinkler awaited us. When you have five children standing at the door, you DON’T walk away to turn off a sprinkler. Instead, I stood at the door, and yelled:

The children learned quickly, and hustled into the minivan’s open doors with speed. Except #5, who didn’t quite grasp the concept of waiting until the sprinkler started to rotate back to make her move.

Me: “Ok… NOW! Go now! Go!”

#5 hesitates, stops mid-path, then dashes back to the steps.

And repeat.

As far as myself, well… I have to carry #6. So no matter how fast you can normally run, when you’re lugging a hefty toddler in your arms, you’re not going to make it. So yes, I protected my boy, and as I’m buckling him into his carseat, my back to the sprinkler, I take one for the team.

Image Courtesy of www.0-60mag.com

Open School Night

So, Open School Night was this week as well, a chance for parents to meet the teachers and get the lay of the land for each class. For me, Open School Night is basically a dash to each of FOUR classrooms to cull any relevant scraps of information I need, prior to making a break to the next classroom.

After visiting #5’s Pre-K classroom, I left the room, to find a group of parents lingering in the hallway, chuckling at posters that the kids had made.

They were the “All About Me” type, with each child stating their favorite type of food, pet’s name, etc.

And… their career choices.

I heard several parents chuckling over a poster. I scanned them to find #5’s. And I read the other childrens’ career choices:

Race-car driver. Doctor. Mom. Doctor AND Mom. Baseball player. Teacher.

And mine? Mine was earning the chuckles.

“When I grow up, I want to be:”

“An Apple Picker.”

OHHHH…..

 

Well…. all I can say is that her current vocational choice is better than her previous, which was “a blue mermaid!” And that’s likely one less college tuition to worry about….

 

 

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