First Day of School

The first day of school today was rainy. Bob's comment, "It doesn't feel like a Hawaiian shirt kind of a day...". Which is okay too I guess.



[Etta is pointing at baby sister if you are wondering...]

And even though we've been talking about the end of summer vacation, that daddy has to go back to work - to make money, etc. Etta was still kind of bummed today. She played well and didn't really seem to notice. But we went to Whitman for lunch and she, "Want more daddy!", "Daddy come home now", and "Etta wants fourth grade! Etta wants Janene! Where is my Janene?" Okay, so it's not all about Bob I guess. She looked very cute and ready for school sitting on the riser with the music text book in her lap. So ready for her own first day of school. Um, I'm not quite ready for that though. I know it is going to go fast enough!

This is my third (!) non-first day of school. Still a little bitter sweet but not really as noticeable. I think that the very impending birth of this baby is taking up the main part of my brain. That and trying to figure out the difference between "real" contractions (ie: labor) and just more, more, more Braxton Hicks.

Not being "at work" is kind of hard though. Hardest I think when we drive by Jenifer and Etta says, "That's mommy's school!" Bob thinks that he may have mentioned it once. And yesterday she said, "That's mommy's school! That's Jenifer!!" Seriously? I don't remember ever saying that. But I probably did. I know that I only taught there for six years, when will it stop feeling like "my" school? The "new" teacher has now already taught guitar class longer than I did. It's really not mine. I need to just let. it. go.

But I would not trade this time for anything. Really. Truly. Honestly. Completely. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to try to pry your kids out of bed so, so, so early so that you can get them to daycare and to work on time. I can't imagine not being here to see her come out from nap all wild-haired and sleepy-eyed. I can't imagine missing all those little things that you would never know that you missed. At the rate the economy is going I will "get" to work for probably 40 years after my kids are gone. Lucky me.

So for right now I am taking it easy, praying that Mae doesn't make an even earlier arrival, and oh yeah, after my (probably over-dramatized) "close call" yesterday afternoon, packing my suitcase!



[My clothes in the suitcase on the left, Mae's on the right and Etta's "going-to-Grandma's-house backpack on the far right. Hoping now that we are completely ready Mae decides to wait!]