I was awakened at 2 am by a cat who thought this was a good time to eat. The simple act of removing his loving, purring ,annoying body from the room so that I may get back to sleep has insured that I will be awake for a while.
The alarm goes off at 6 am. This was going to be the day to start the new writing regimen. Wake at 6 before everyone else. Get at least a cuppa coffee and a half an hour of writing before the day kicks into high gear. Alas alas...I hit the snooze. And then his small foot steps climb the stairs and his body instinctively fits next to mine like a lost puzzle piece finally joined with its brethren. Cuddles.
This is the first day of school. There are routines we need to revive. Breakfast, bathes, backpacks and cold lunches. What marks this day is the tie he wears. A red and blue striped tie. I let my motherly concern for bullying go for this day and let him wear it. I have learned to let him him live his own life in little ways. If there are consequences he knows he can talk to about them to me. And he does.We leave a few minutes early so that we can have breakfast sandwiches at Douin's, the local general store, and we read. A new school year tradition I adhere to regardless of what changes we have or may face. He reads a Jo Nesbo for kids. I read a book for work by Dianna Wynne Jones. And then we go to school.
Small tanned bodies, parents holding coffee cups, new shoes all clutter the hall awaiting the bell to ring. There are hellos from classmates and last year's teachers. The guidance counselor gets an extra special hug. She has helped us through some hard bumps and bruises as Evan got used to school and his parents divorce. We find his classroom on the second floor ( big promotiom). No longer a cubby kid, we find his locker and find his classroom. We introduce ourselves to his teacher, find his desk, quick hug and this moment is gone. In my car I remember I left my coffee on the piano at home.
In the car my mind wanders. It is a familiar route. Routine. I arrive in town early enough to take care of a few errands and then head to work.
It is a busy day at the bookstore. College students are back. Some professors at the Univeristy order their books for their classes from us. Local public schools order from us and it is a busy time of year for new releases for the general retail end of the business. The day flies and soon it is, blessedly, five o'clock. Finish cash out, lock up and head to the small grocer for, unabashedly yes, a box of mac and cheese, milk, dog food and cat food. Rush to the after school care provider who meets my guy at the bus most afternoons.
She has recently lost her husband. He died suddenly. I could provide reams of wisdom but really, she just needs to talk.
In the car I hear all about my little guy's day. He seems excited to start the school year. He feels challenged by some of the math but open to learning it. His school is small enough that he is cherished by his learning community for his individuality. Who could ask for more?
I pull into the drive way at 6pm. Not a lot of time before my guy has to be in bed.
Once home I dump out the cold coffee from the morning. Pick some broccoli in the garden; some for dinner and some for the freezer. It may not be a fancy dinner; partially processed, but it was done in ten minutes. The whole time I was making it my guy was right there with me sharing his day. He finishes his dinner. I spend some time writing this post.
Time for reflection? Sure why not.
Not a bad day. Everyone in the house had a good day. We may not have accomplished everything we set out to do but we got enough done that we are not disappointed in ourselves. We are so grateful to our school district for having late Wednesday mornings because this means much to us. An easier morning tomorrow, a time to take care of some light chores, perhaps we walk the dog, perhaps I get up at 6 am and I write some more...
But there are miles to go...
I read to him from the Wynne-Jones book. We dance to Phil Ochs as he revolves around the record player. My guy climbs the ladder to his bunk bed. Hugs, Kisses and the last bit of sharing from his day,