Back to School

Ah, fall.  Cooler nights, changing colors, the smell of the first fires in the air.  (Ok it's early September so it is more like chilly in the morning and then 75 degrees by mid day which means I'm never dressed appropriately).  And, of course, the excitement of back to school.  This year is particularly special for us as Mini-Me the Younger has started kindergarten.  You are probably thinking "how sweet, what a milestone in her life" while I am rejoicing that we no longer have a full time daycare nut to cover (mind you we still have two part time ones so we are not jetting off to Europe just yet).

I was totally ready.  I bought the pre-packaged school kits at the end of the last school year for both of them and everything was labeled.  Backpacks and lunch boxes (or insulated lunch bags in more modern terms) were purchased and music supplies obtained for the elder who has an instrument in school for the first time and will be playing cello (in addition to piano, an acrobatics class, a Saturday morning jewelry making class and chorus because we are apparently insane).  Clothes were purchased, first day outfits were chosen and both kids were excited to begin and not nervous at all.  Yup, totally ready.

I was not ready.

I did not realize how much the summer had spoiled me.  Big Guy is off the whole summer with the girls and so I just need to get myself ready in the mornings.  Just me and my stuff and then out the door.  Now he is back to work and leaves the house first, and once again I have to get two kids and myself (presentable for work) out the door.  Oh, sure he helps - he does lunch and snacks (both I might add before the kids even wake up so it is a solitary - and therefore quick - activity).  Made even quicker by the fact that as he is adjusting back to his routine, the kids have been buying lunch quite a bit; now that we are both working again I don't think anyone has gone food shopping beyond buying a few things here and there. Except in the odd universe that is mother/father responsibility sharing, if they bring lunch he makes it, if they buy lunch I have to make sure they have money (and actual cash is often scarce around this house - add pre-paid lunch cards to the to-do list).  Example two in this odd definition of sharing: he puts their snacks on the table, but I have to actually pack them, yet he still considers this as taking care of the snacks completely on his own.   Let me also add that this ends the list of what he is responsible for in getting them off to school. Lunch as long as it's not money and snacks, no packing included for either. And of course by the time he is out the door they are both up and my time is now their time.  Which means I have no time. And then there are the really fun times when the younger wakes up particularly early. This means my oasis of a shower before entering the race to leave is now her coming in to pee, her going through every drawer in the bathroom and taking out things, her wanting to use my make up all while maintaining a non-stop flow of commentary and questions. This is not the peaceful, meditative start to my day it is supposed to be.

And of course, something always falls through the cracks as I'm rushing through the last five minutes in an attempt to make my train (not the fantasy early train, the it's my last chance to not be late to work train). It's usually not stuff I forgot. It's publicly embarrassing stuff. We're halfway to school and I turn around and the elder's hair looks like it wasn't brushed and it turns out she forgot (some of the kids in Les Mis have less tangled hair than her after sleeping on it). Or the younger decided she wanted to wear socks without mentioning it and is wearing electric blue ankle socks with her sandals and skirt. Or I wear a skirt forgetting that I've moved out of summer shave every day mode but not yet into black tights mode. Or, in an epic embarrassing fail, instead of putting on her good sparkly ballet flats the younger took a pair she has had for about two years and worn hard. So hard the fronts are ripped open and her toes all stick out. And I did not notice and she went to school in them. This was the breaking point even for Big Guy (although I have to add that there is no way for even a second anyone put this on him).

And the evenings. No longer the ease of arriving home, having dinner and chilling about until bedtime. No, there is homework to be checked (do not even ask what the younger is like doing homework for the first time), what seems to be an unending amount of paperwork (back to school barbecue, getting to know you, directory forms, instrument rental contracts) and making sure they are in bed asleep by 8:30 at the latest (when you don't get home until almost 6:30 this is harder than it sounds).  If they are not asleep by then, Mini-Me the Younger sleeps later in the morning and you have to actually wake her up and then rush her to get ready in 20 minutes - it is not pretty (though in all honesty I don't think it's worse than the early rise, share my shower time scenario).  This week I have had the added bonus of her having to wear a special color each day to school.  This may seem like a cute thing to do, but she doesn't seem to own clothes in most of the colors, and the ones we do have are clothes she doesn't want to wear.

And my house. Dear God my house.  It has been an absolute disaster these past few weeks.  Big Guy won't ever win an award for best housekeeper but when he's not working and I am even he knows he has to take on more of the cleaning (we gave up our cleaning lady after Sandy and have not hired her back in an attempt to catch up on the finances and save some money for some house projects - still no jet plane to Europe in sight).  He's abdicated this responsibility for now and I haven't been able to keep up with it (haven't wanted to keep up with it?) with everything else going on.  The good news is that I am having a shindig in the house in a few days and I was forced to take this past weekend to catch up on putting away laundry and making an attempt to find the floors in several rooms in the house.  The bad news is if it is going to stay remotely livable, someone is going to have to do something about the housekeeping on a regular basis and no matter what Big Guy says about helping, I suspect that someone is mostly me-one.

The day before school started I was sure that my preparations and careful planning would result in a smooth re-entry to the school year.  Not even two weeks later the only thing I feel sure about is that I was a complete idiot for thinking anything involving kids would be smooth.