I couldn’t sleep last night.
I think it’s because I was mentally planning out a lesson plan for kindergarten PE, because I like to do things in such a timely manner. Yes, there are those teachers who had their classrooms set up three weeks ago and their lesson plan book photocopied and handed over to the principal a day later.
I call those teachers overachievers.
Once I’d finally figured out how kindergarten gym class was going to shake down, I fell asleep and dreamed that Taylor Swift’s vice president was in the hospital in a coma.
No, Taylor Swift hadn’t become the first female president. She was still a sassy little singer with a busy schedule, but she had a vice president, because that’s what all singers long for these days. The VP was a seventeen year old girl, who had fallen somehow and conked her head. As a result, she’d been unconscious in the hospital for over a week, and I was asked to go in to her room and pray for her recovery.
Of course I did.
Afterward, the VP’s mom pulled me aside and said, “That was not a very good prayer. I don’t think you’re actually any good at praying.”
Naturally this boosted my self confidence to astronomical levels.
When the doctor came in, he pulled me aside and said, “Could you find the vice president’s lunchbox?” Well, I could certainly look, I suppose, although I’d never met the teenage girl before, and I had no idea where to even start looking for her lunchbox, because WHERE DOES SHE USUALLY EAT HER SCHOOL LUNCH? I’m new here.
The doctor went on to explain to me that sometimes in situations of severe comas, like the vice president was in, if the lunchbox could be recovered, physicians could get some answers as to why she’d fallen and hit her head.
Because… OF COURSE. Apparently lunchboxes and airline black boxes are very similar these days.
So I left the hospital, looking for a lunchbox all along the sidewalk, and then the alarm went off.
Because today was the very first day of school. We haven’t set an alarm since May, so this was a definite shock to our systems. The boy’s method of coping with the intrusive alarm sound this morning was to just shut it off, roll over, and go back to sleep.
And then, because the boy asks me constantly, “Why don’t you fix great big, delicious breakfasts like Mam does? Why don’t you make homemade French toast? Or even eggs and bacon?”, I decided to surprise him with a fancy breakfast. I couldn’t send him off to the 7th grade with a belly full of sugar and white bread.
I made scrambled eggs and whole grain toast and maple-infused sausage links, instead of forcing him to haul a Pop Tart out of the pantry. The boy looked at me and said, “This is amazing! FINALLY! I get a decent, hot breakfast!”
And then he proceeded to eat EXACTLY three bites of eggs and one bite of sausage before he declared himself UN-HUNGRY and dumped the remainder of his breakfast in the trash.
Which is why we’ll be returning to the old standby of cold cereal tomorrow morning.
And then I packed a healthy lunch for my new 7th grader. He had a container filled with a Caesar salad, a turkey sandwich, and a Greek yogurt. When he saw the contents of his lunchbox, he looked at me and asked, “Couldn’t I have some potato chips and Twinkies in there?”
Which is why I may force him to eat the hot lunch slop out of the school cafeteria tomorrow.
I did make the boy stand still long enough for his obligatory first-day-of-school pictures. Thing 2 was even there, but that baby wasn’t interested in looking at the camera and smiling. What he was interested in was the sound of a diesel truck driving by, which made him yell out, “Airplane! Airplane!”
(He still gets confused on his engine sounds.)
And then! THEN I will be able to come back home and have a cup of uninterrupted coffee all by myself! And I’ll even be able to use the bathroom alone when Thing 2 is a kindergartner. It’s called THE SILVER LINING, y’all.
Yeah. They immediately chose having their pictures taken in the yard. And they even smiled nicely, because I threatened to retake the pictures at the junior high’s front doors if they didn’t.
I have no idea why the boy decided to slick his fresh-from-the-shower wet hair to the side this morning, but he got some kind of a wave-thing going, and I was all, “Whatever.”
And then I listened to the cat hack up a hairball on my kitchen floor.
And then I cleaned up said hairball.
And then, just as it was time for me to take Thing 2 to Grammy’s and head to PE, I heard the second wave of barfing start because my seventeen-month-old baby had thrust his hand to the back of his throat and gagged himself.
He sprayed a puddle of vomit over a three-foot area in his bedroom, ruined his adorable Gymboree outfit, and grinned from ear to ear at me.
Which is why he found himself screaming in time-out, while I frantically cleaned that mess up and then changed his clothes into a plain, boring, puke-free T-shirt and fresh shorts.
(If any of y’all have ever seen a chapter in a parenting book entitled HOW TO HANDLE YOUR BULIMIC TODDLER WHEN HE THINKS PUKING IS HYSTERICAL, please point me to it. I’m treading uncharted waters here and have no idea how to get Thing 2 to JUST STOP IT ALREADY, BEFORE YOU MAKE MAMA NEED A CRAZY PILL!)
Eventually the baby was dropped off with his grandma, and I wound up in my gym. It was 98 degrees outside today, because OF COURSE IT WAS! IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL, AND SMALL TOWN, USA LIKES TO SHOW OFF A VOLCANIC HEATWAVE THEN. The fans in my gym were not working, which meant that it was nearly 475 entire degrees in there. I felt like the witch from The Wizard of Oz… All I could do was moan, “I’m melting…” I kept expecting some little kiddo to yell out, “Teacher! Your back just burst into flames!”
Somehow, we made it through.
I think one little kindergartner summed it all up very nicely, when he said, “Is there a time when we can just lay down on the floor and maybe close our eyes if we want to?”
Which was exactly what I wanted to do, because another kindergartner had just announced, “I don’t think you heard it, but I just farted the longest fart of my entire life. I was holding it in, like my mom told me to do at school, but it just burst out of me.”
I made wine for dinner. What did all y’all have?