good morning, sunshine

I love when this little guy wakes me up.  I love that he comes in with his lovie, another friend, and then  kisses me on the nose.

 Then he whispers, "you have dreams, Mama?"  Except, it sounds more, "you have deems, mama?" said with a pause between each word.

 He climbs into bed and even though it is a big king size bed, he puts his head right next to mine.  He usually waits for my groggy eyes to open for about 4-5 minutes before he asks to play puzzles.  Which, again, sounds more like "pay puzis."

I love that he waits for about 10 more minutes before he gets up to go downstairs and get a "nak" from the snack cabinet downstairs.  I love that as I get up to take a shower, he and A. then snuggle up and eat their snacks.

I hate that this happens before 5:30 am and that I always have a bed with crumbs in it.  But, man are they and their bedheads worth it.

oh christmas tree

Sometimes I think my plans and picture of what life is like are so construed.  I have this picture perfect view of what Christmas should be like.  I think of people all wrapped up in mittens, scarves, and hats and walking along singing Christmas carols while cutting down their tree.  This is what really happens.

We wait for K. to wake up from his nap; he apparently is REALLY tired so he sleeps until 4:00.  The tree farm, which thankfully is close by our new house, closes at 5:00. I try to change his clothes to put on the nice warm cozy picture perfect clothing.  He refuses to take off his huge snoopy shirt, which is almost standing up by itself because he has also refused to take it off for the past 3 days.  We load up the snoopy clad boy and a girl whom is complaining because wearing a sweater under her coat makes it so that she can't bend her arms.  

The drive is actually only about 10 minutes; just enough time for whining about the temperature of coats in the car.  We park and a man remarkably resembling Santa meets us to pass out a saw and tell us where to trek to find the best trees.  We set off; B with the saw and wagon, A and K following while I start snapping pictures.  

B. quickly leaves the wagon to me because it is slowing him down.  It takes about .5 seconds for the wagon to get stuck in a rut and then another and then another while my family is getting farther away.  The only way that I know where they are going is that A. is beginning to complain that her shoes are falling off inside of her boots.  The fiddling with the boots does allow the wagon pulling mama to catch up.  

Then, we are both behind the determined boys while I am helping her adjust her boots, and adjust them again.  Finally, we take off the socks, which is actually good because she left her cute mittens in the car and her hands are freezing. 

 Now, the wagon pulling mama and the sock handed girl set off to find the determined boys. Thankfully, it only takes a second because they have already traveled to one corner and are making their way back without a tree that B. finds worthy.  A., K. and I point out about 20 trees which are quickly turned down by Daddy. It's getting dark so we decided to ditch the wagon with the plan to come back and get it if we need it to pull the wagon. 

Now, sock handed girl, is holding hands with nonwagon pulling mama.  We start singing Christmas carols as I am determined to make this live up to all of my dreams.  "Hey, B, will you take our picture?"  He promptly does and then takes his saw and carries on.  About 10 minutes and lots of walking later, I go to take another picture and realize that I have somehow lost my phone. ... We now take the next 20 minutes as it gets darker and darker to retrace our rutty tree farm steps to find my phone.  

Sock handed kid, check

snoopy shirt kid, check

 phone, check,

 tree...  

We are now back to the building without a tree.  We are about to pick out a precut tree when A. says, "Hey, Daddy, how about this one?"  She is pointing to a tree that is growing 9 trees in from the building.  

It's big, fat, and now coming to our house.  

Picture perfect, no.  Real, yes!

an extra layer

B. now refers to K. as a kid with an extra layer.  All of the Collins boys are very even keeled.  As Pappy says, "you have to practically kick Pat in the knee to see any expression from him."  B. says that it may keep him from experiencing intense joy, but it also keeps him from sadness.  K. did not get the memo that Collins boys are supposed to skip the emotion and just go on with life. Here are some examples

1) During dinner we have a rule: you have to drink your milk and eat your vegetables before you can have dessert.  K., for some reason, picks and chooses nights whether he is going to fight us on drinking his milk.  This particular night, we had told him a good 22 times to drink his 5 sips of milk.  He looks at me, "you happy, momma?"  "Nope, K. you need to drink your milk."  He looks at Daddy, "you happy, daddy?"  "Nope, drink your milk."  He looks at his lap with two giant tears,  "Nobody happy."

Seriously, how do you not laugh at that?

2) We drove to Gramps' house this weekend for Gramps' birthday.  Riding in the car, A said, "awww man, I have a hangnail.  We get out of the car and K. is pouting.  "What's wrong, K?" I asked.  His reply was, "I so sad."  OK... "Why?" I said.  And, the emotional response, "A. have hangnail."

B. looked at him like he was insane.

3) When making dinner, A.'s job is to set the table.  K. puts out the vitamins.  The adults used to have our vitamins at night though since we did our 24 day Advocare challenge, we started taking them in the morning. Apparently, K. takes this as a personal offense.  Every night he cries that we don't need our vitamins.  One particular night, he tried to give them to B.  B. just simply said, "thanks, Buddy, but I don't need them now."  K. ran to the other room, knocked over a chair and then sat in the middle of the floor not speaking to anyone.  Completely silent.  If anyone walked near him, he turned over and put his head on the floor.

.

Again, an extra layer.  Who is that expressive over a piece of pizza?  It's gonna take a special lady to handle all of that emotion.  On the bright side, he may be VERY romantic

 

the move

This happened a long time ago, but if I don't blog about it, it never happened... right...

A. and I went to a free play this summer and her first question was, "when can I do that?" Well, now, I guess.  We found a little children's theater and she went every Friday for 1 hour for 5 weeks.  Her first week, she came running out saying, "Mom, I got the part."  Well honey, I hate to break it to ya but every kid got a part. hehe.

Those of you that know me, know that my first career was as a recreation therapist.  Every single Thursday, a lovely music therapist would lead us in kids songs with all of our patients that lived at the hospital.  Then, every Thursday afternoon until Wed night, I would sing Raffi and Barney songs in my head.  "This is a song about colors, colors, you see them everywhere...." My favorite was "Brush your teeth."  

When you wake up in the morning and it's quarter to 2, you don't know what to do, you brush your teeth.  ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch

What?  No you don't

Well, this play was "Baby Baluga"  Imagine my happiness when they sent A. home with a CD of all Raffi songs.  Yay!!!  

When you wake up in the morning and it's quarter to 4 you hear a knock at the door, you brush your teeth.  ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch

It's even more ridiculous now....

Well, it turns out that A. did get "the part".  It was the only part with a "move".  Most people had 1 line or maybe 2.  A.'s line was, "I know what you mean, I still feel drowsy, I aught to wake up, but I still feel lazy and lousy.  Then, after Shake Your Sillies Out, her line was, "we jumped and clapped, we clapped and jumped, I don't know about you, but I'm totally pumped."  She was supposed to jump and flex her muscles on "pumped"  We went round and round for weeks.  "Mom, no one else does a move."  "Mom, what if people laugh at me?"  I wanted to tell her that the play would only hold a parents attention while their specific kid was on stage, but I thought she may not like that.  I wanted to tell her that the line wasn't especially funny, but again, I thought she may not like that.  I did tell her that I would be proud of her either way, move or no move.  I also told her that if people laugh, it meant that she did a good job.  Imagine that, but my advice didn't work.  It didn't work until Granny J. came and acted totally crazy jumping around being "pumped".  I guess if Granny J. can look ridiculous, A. can too. :")

The night of the show arrived and of course, it was the worst traffic ever.  Her acting coach, Granny J. sat in traffic instead of hearing Baby Baluga, Shake Your Sillies Out, and Brush Your Teeth.  The good thing was, A. did do the ever anticipated move.  And... a few people were even paying enough attention to laugh.

Way to go, A!!  We're so proud of your theatre debut. Maybe you'll have a future in Music Therapy.  I know a great mentor!

tough questions

Once kindergarten hit, I knew it was only a matter of time before my sweet little girl would be exposed to things that I would rather keep hidden.  The first was the death of a her little friends grandfather.  Though A. hears us talk about our loved ones that have already passed on, she never had questions.  Since DJ's grandfather died, A. has had questions galore. The crazy thing is, she will ask a question, I'll give my best answer and then she doesn't ask another for a week or two.  I think she just has to process.  She started with, "where are gram and Uncle Brian.  -- I went with the easy answer of heaven.  Well, that led to how did they get there and then once I tried to explain that their souls went to heaven but the rest of their bodies are still here then came, " where are their bodies".  So, I did what every mother that has no idea how to best answer the question would do...."I don't know, let's call Gramps."  I totally passed the buck because I didn't want to tell my little girl that her gram's body is now in a small little box and her Uncle Brian is now buried. Gramps gave us some good advice and I left it because the questions seemed to stop.  Well,  fast forward a week and the question was, "How did uncle Brian get under the ground?" She wanted to know how Daddy helped to carry him and who held his head.  I did my best to explain a casket and pall bearers.  Another week passed and she simply said, "tell me the story of Uncle Brian."  I chose to go with the music that he liked and how he coached hockey.  I think she wanted the story of his death because then she asked, "can he hear that music now that his body is in the ground and his heart is in heaven?"  I don't baby...

Today though, today took the cake on tough questions.  We got a letter home today about a "stop, drop, and cover" drill.  It's the drill now mandated by the state to practice for an intruder or a gunman.  It's the drill that has to be done yet makes my little innocent girl not feel so safe anymore.  The letter just said to inform the kids so that they wouldn't be too frightened.  I just told A. that tomorrow there would be a drill like a fire drill except that they would stay in the school and go under their desks.  "Why, Mommy"  I froze in my tracks.  I wanted to ignore it or say just to play a game.  But, the reality is, she has to live in a new era.  An era where no place is completely safe.  So, I told her that it is to practice in case someone came in that wasn't supposed to be there.  "Why, Mommy."  uuhhhh.... "because sometimes bad people come in and your teacher has to keep you safe."  The questions stopped and I went on to turn on paw patrol or wipe a nose or something.  I turned around and tears were streaming down her little face.  "What if there is a bad person there tomorrow?"  "Why do I have to cover my eyes?"  "How will I know where they take me if they do?"  "What would they do to me if they take me?"  And, just like that, a little piece of her innocence was gone. I answered as best as I could, trying to tell her that her teachers would keep her safe and we would come and keep her safe.  Just when I thought we were coming out, she said, "but, someone came to Gramps's work." She put together the fact that Gramps was working at the Navy Yard on the day of the shooting and that she had to practice to keep away from "bad people".  Again, I did what any mom over her head would do, we called Gramps.  Gramps told her that it's ok to be scared but that it is just practice.  He said that he practiced before and that is what kept him safe.  He reassured my sweet little girl we would always do our best to keep her safe and her school will too.  But, she is still scared to go tomorrow.  Thankfully, I called in the mom reinforcements.  She now has another mom to drop her off at school instead of riding the bus and I promised her that the mom representation will give her an extra hug.  Now, to wait a week and see what question pops up from her ever processing yet slightly less innocent mind.

remember that time

Remember that time when you have so many changes.  Changes that are amazing and awesome and also very normal.  Changes like kids going to school and potty training, and switching work schedules.  Changes that make you so busy with daily logistics that you forget to stop and write so that you remember this awesome time in your life.  Yep, couple that with a lost camera cord so that I can't get any of the pictures from our trips, festivals, Halloween or even the tantrums and little newly underweared bum bums off of the camera and you know where we've been.  I promise, I will spend some time between buying something from the 4th school fundraiser and seeing patient's and running to the teeny tiny little potty as soon as the potty alarm beeps to focus and write.  I do want to keep this up so that my kiddos will know about their lives as wee little ones; I do want to remember this crazy time;  I do want to keep our long distance family updated. So, I will, I will, I will.... soon

peepaw

My husband has been called lots of things in his life.  But, Peepaw is by far my favorite.

Yes, B.'s relationship with Tiny has advanced to an all new level.  When she is around, which is most of the time, he is known as Peepaw.  He has totally taken it in stride.  When A. asks for dinner for Tiny or for Peepaw to dance with Tiny after dinner, B. obliges.  I was almost crying last weekend when it was, yet again, Tiny's birthday.  I think she might be turning 25 but when A. is asked, she ranges anywhere from 8 months to 3 years old.  A. had wrapped up her box of beads and K. wrapped up dancing Mickey.  B. was cleaning the kitchen after dinner when A. went over and said, "Peepaw, aren't you going to come watch her open her presents."  Peepaw didn't hesitate.  He came over from the kitchen and led the family in Happy Birthday.  I was just sitting in the corner trying not to laugh and mess up the singing but Peepaw fully embraced the situation.

Peepaw,

Thanks for being so awesome.

Love,
Neenaw

the return to sanity

I think some good family time is just what we needed to get rid of Crazy Mom and return to Sane Mom.  We started last weekend with some fishing at our town pier.  Nothing makes me happier than calm, and quiet kids.

Well, maybe except for a calm and quiet husband.  That doesn't happen much in my house either.  

 And, nothing makes Kaleb happier than spiderman fishing poles, worms, and dirt!

 A. made it all of week 2 without any trouble.  She was psyched to go to school everyday and she even bought her lunch one day.  Which, in A.'s mind was the coolest thing ever. It meant that she got to use her "student number" and she even learned to open her own milk.  We made a rule that she has to tell us 5 things everyday after school since she is 5 years old.  The highlights were...
1. I like to sit next to M.; she is my best friend.  She has red cheeks.  Maybe because she is nervous but maybe just because God made her have red cheeks.
2. I got to wear a flower necklace and take J. to the office because he pooped his pants.  I thought he must be 4 because 5 year olds don't poop their pants.  But, he said he was 5.  Maybe he was nervous too.  Or, maybe he just needs to work on where to poop.
3. One of the teachers, the one that sings in the boring choir at church, taught us how to go down the slide and swing.  We aren't allowed to go on the monkey bars even though I know how.  I thought it was a silly thing to learn and she looked silly.
4. One kid really knows how to write his 5's.  I have to practice because my lines just won't curve the way they are supposed to.

So, there you have it.  Week 2 was much better and Sane Mommy  has returned.  Since family time worked so well for week 2.  We bumped it up a little by adding in the MD family for this weekend.  Hopefully, that means that week 3 will be the best ever!    

K. can ride his pedal bike as long as he is going down hill.  Once you add in gravity, he has to have help.  Thank goodness for his buddy.  He was just what K. needed.

A little 1:1 football in the back yard!

Some of my favorite people in the world!!

Well, maybe we aren't all always sane.  But, hopefully week 3 will allow Sane Momma and Sane A. to stay around for a little while.  We will hope for Sane K. and Sane Daddy another time.  

The picture morning

Day 4: not much better...

We survived the cup escapade where we actually had a nice leisurely morning; I drove A. to school meaning that we got to leave 30 minutes later than she has to catch the bus to get to a building 2 miles from our house. So, we were forgetting the rush and juggle that we are typically doing in the morning.  And, it was picture day.  I fed the kids breakfast of eggs and cereal and went upstairs to get myself ready.  A. came up a few minutes later and said that she was done eating.  OK, I got her dressed in her picture outfit and then went to get K. ready.  A then put her hair up in little lopsided pigtails with the rest of her hanging out in the back.  I briefly considered telling her to take them out and then realized that we have beautiful photos from Emily St. Louis (emilystlouisphotography.zenpholio.com) and who really needs school photos?

side note: Lifetouch--I think you stay in business because parents feel like they have to purchase
the ugly pose/backgrounds just because they were gracing the walls of our homes when we were children. We had to choose the pose from a close up shot, odd horizontal picture I think to highlight the terrible background, or one that shows more outfit; all the options were bad.  Then, we picked a background; the choices were gray, blue, pink, red, or a lighter blue; again, all options were a little hazy and all a little ugly.  There is not option of just buy one ugly photo because you have to, nope, you have to purchase an entire package.  Packages start at $20 and go up to $120 with the option of add ons such as names and years. We finally settled on 1 8x10, 2 5x7, and a bunch of trash.  I mean does anyone carry wallets with photos anymore.  So, Grandparents, you are still getting the ugly expensive 5x7.  Maybe we will put iti n an even uglier frame circa 1987 just to make you feel nostalgic.  Then, we will give A. the rest to I don't know give to her dolls...

Anyway, I digress.  A. decided that she was still hungry.  I went against my better ju dgement and let her have a yogurt since we still had 15 minutes.  She went through minutes 1 through 14 without a hitch.  Then, as I was saying, "we have to leave now."... she spilled yogurt on her outfit.  Now the bus is coming down the street and we have to change her clothes.  I'm running upstairs, I pull out a cute dress and then realize it is a halter dress and probably against the dress code.  I pull out another dress and A. hates it.  We settle on a leggings outfit just as the bus is turning the corner.  I'm yelling.  A. is crying. and K. is utterly confused.  We dash out the door and the bus already has it's door open 1/2 a block away.  A. is sprinting up the street with me behind holding a screaming K. that does not handle "hurry up" very well.  She makes it within 50 feet of the bus and it pulls away.  I don't know how the bus driver doesn't hear the blood curdling screams erupting from my child's mouth, but she somehow pulls away.  I immediately start in with, "I'll take you.  It's ok." when a random jogger witnessing the sadness says, "you can beat the bus to the next corner, she has to stop 3 times before then."  OOOHHH problem solved.  We drop A. with the babysitter on the way and A. and I jog down the street.  Her sobs are decreasing but she is still rushed and tears are still flowing.  "What if she is mad at me?" she says as the bus driver is opening the door.  I don't have time to answer.  I can only pat her on the back, wave, and watch my crying kid ride away.

OK.  Momma has to let go.  I have to trust that she can calm herself and have a good day.  The sane momma in me knows that she can do it.  But, the crazy mom takes over.  I immediately text P., the middle schooler on the bus.  "Is she ok?  Tell her I love her and I'm sorry that I yelled."  I get a text back from this girl that is getting an even better space in my heart daily saying, "she's fine.  She's playing with a second grader."  Again, the sane momma knows now that she is fine but the crazy mom still takes over.  I call B. sobbing.  "Can't we homeschool?  I didn't even get to tell her that everything would be OK.  And, I forgot to change the message in her lunch box."  As usual, my husband takes the brunt of the crazy.  He calms me down some.  But, the crazy momma still has a hold of me.  I text 2 other moms that are dropping off their kids at school and will possibly catch a glimpse of her.  I think the texts/ messages say something abt hating kindergarten.  The 20 minutes of waiting feels like eternity but, I still calm some since I pass the time driving to my patient's house chatting (yes, via hands free device) to my my sister-in-law whom is actually a sane momma of a kindergartner.  Calm is finally achieved when my Momma friends both say that, of course, A. is fine and sitting with her classroom.  Sane momma finally kicks in.  This is ridiculous.  The damn cup incident has turned me into someone that I'm not.  Get it together.

So, week 2 will be better for us both.  Hopefully, sane momma will return.  This school picture probably still won't be on my wall, but will have a special place in my heart.

"its my favit""

K. and A. are direct opposites in how much attention that they need during the day.  A. likes to do whatever I am doing while I often have to yell to K., "what are you doing, are you OK?"  His answer is either
A. I in payroom
B. I pay tuks
C. Jus gofin, I be bak minit

Yes, I am aware that my yard looks awful and that my husband is a superintendent.  We are working on it :)

It is C. where I catch him 2 seconds before he is about to go out the door with his golf club.  Or, I catch him as he is putting on his rain boots; they are the only shoes that he can put on himself.  So, he now has indoor plastic golf clubs and outdoor golf clubs that are real golf clubs.  C. is also the only thing that he HAS to do during the day.  He could care less if I change his diaper, let him sleep, or even feed him as long as he can play golf.

When we went on our mini vacation with Aunt Stacy, we had a few minutes before the theme park opened and there was free minigolf. It wasn't minigolf with waterfalls and windmills.  It was more of torn up green carpet with a stream running through.  A. hit the ball into the water about 100 times just so that she could fish it out.  K. hit the ball towards the hole and made the shot in under 4 strokes every time. When we were leaving, he cried and cried saying, "It my favite game"  We told him about the carousel and roller coaster where we were headed, he really just wanted to stay and play golf.  Then, the next day when we were headed back to the park, he asked for the put put.

His highlight for the summer was visiting Daddy's golf course.  

Really, what is not to love-- tractors, golf, dirt, riding in a moving vehicle without a car seat,and Daddy.  It's all of the best things put together.

 Again, A. just hit her ball into the bunkers so that she could fish it out and then use a rake.  Maybe, golf is not her sport...

the roller coaster

I am now a basket case.  The mom's who were worried have children that are doing fine in Kindergarten.  I, on the other hand, have had a child in tears 2 our of 3 days.

 Day 1 she cried, I believe, just because she was overly tired.  She just kept saying that she didn't want to go back to school because she was going to miss me.  We got through that one pretty easily.

Day 2, will now go down in infamy as the day of the cup.  A came home with her water bottle empty.  I immediately praised her because it is a constant battle in my house to get her to drink.  As soon as I  mentioned the cup, she immediately started to cry.  The crying escalated into full out sobs in about 2.45 seconds.  "I never can go back.  My teacher hates me.  My teacher yelled at me."  Of course at this point, I'm utterly confused.  How did we go from Good Job to sobs?  Well, that is the roller coaster that I now call my daughter.  After hugging, more tears leading Mommy having tears, and deep breathing, I finally got somewhat of the story.  Apparently, the stopper fell out of the said water cup causing it to dump when laid on it's side.  A., thought I packed something in her lunch box to suck on and immediately put the stopper in her mouth.  So, the teacher came over to help her in the rather loud lunch room and could not get the damned cup to stop pouring out.  Then came a "don't bring the cup back."  I, obviously do not know the tone of the "suggestion" but A. took it as an all out volcano eruption and her hopes of pleasing her teacher just exploded with the volcano.

OK where to go from here. I"m obviously not going to run out to buy a new cup since 1. there is no water bottle selling stores in our tiny little town and 2. because the water bottle works fine when the stopper is not in A.'s mouth.  After much coaxing, we decided that we would practice with the cup at dinner and at breakfast the next day.  Then, A. should be able to work the damned cup without issue.  Finally, instead of riding the bus, I would take A. to school to explain the the teacher why we did not run to the nearest store 30 miles away to buy a new cup.  The practice went off without a hitch because really, how much practice does one need to use a cup.  Then, I built up my courage to dissuade my fears of this lady looking at me like I'm nuts because we were all worked up over a stupid pink cup; I mean who wants to be known as the crazy cup mom.  The teacher acknowledged the fears for about .5 seconds, tried the cup to make sure it didn't pour all over the table, and then went to talk to other people dropping off their kids  She did exactly what she should have done. A. went on and sat with other kids and I left.  Then I got into the car and sobbed.  Why, I'm not sure.  Maybe because everyone's emotions are running on high. Maybe because I wanted her to hug my kid and tell her that she didn't hate her, that she loved her. Maybe because I would rather have her at home avoiding this entire situation.  I don't know.  Here's to making day 3 and 4 of week one good days!!

a special person

I warned Aunt Stacy that this post was happening after she traveled with us for the second weekend in a row.  I got all teary and gusy and told her how much we loved her.  According to A., "Aunt Stacy takes us on fun trips and kind of makes me feel good."

In my book, Aunt Stacy is pretty much the top of the line.  She tolerated "I spy" for about 100 trials until we finally made a list for A. to read and "spy".  She spelled words aloud with A. until we were running out of 3 letter words.  She took water zumba with us until the kids pool opened. She bought us breakfast when it turns out that it wasn't a continental breakfast. She woke up earlier with my kids than she does for work.  She used her vacation days for things like Dutch Wonderland and Playland at the beach.  Most importantly, she does this all by choice.  She is an "Aunt by choice", a fact that A. didn't know until last night. She chooses to love my kids and they are sooo incredibly blessed by her choice.  Thanks Aunt Stacy!  We love you!!!  

ok, it is the last one

I don't think that I've ever written 3 blogs in 3 days.  But, this was obviously kind of a big deal.  And, this is where I record everything that is a big deal in our family.  So, here is A.'s first day of school according to A.

1) What was your favorite thing?  recess... just because.  But, I stayed in the shade because it was too hot and sunny.  Then, we had to go in after not too long.  Tomorrow I won't stay in the shade because it was a waste of time.

2) What friends did you meet?  Only 1, but she didn't tell me her name.

3) What did you learn? I don't know.  I didn't really learn anything but I did do a project.  She listed off her things to do-- bus, Mrs. Simplers class, say my name, PE, recess, lunch, art, snack, rest, home.  (Sounds pretty good to me)

4) How was lunch?  It was good but I don't want to take an apple sauce thing because my friend said it is disgusting.

5) Did you behave?  Yep, I stayed on orange all day.  One boy didn't stay on orange because he tried to run away and punched his hand into the door.

I had more questions but she didn't want to answer more.  I guess it was a bigger day for me than her. hehe

At first, when I heard that our town had the middle schoolers ride with the elementary kids, I thought it was absurd.  But, knowing that our neighbors were on the bus watching out for my baby made it so much easier.  P., babysits for our kids a lot and she, bless her heart, even sent me a picture of A. smiling on the bus. A. did say that she almost cried when P. got off the bus at her school.  But, somehow she held it together :) 

Yes, I followed the bus. But, in my defense, there was a "breakfast" for the parents.  I think it was really to let us save face because they knew we would follow the bus anyway.

I couldn't be happier that I have found so many other wonderful mothers that are neighbors and friends.  We all held it together, well, sort of.

And then there was 1.  This little guy was sooo good.  He sat in his stroller and watched all the big kids go to school.  When we left he said, "just you and me, Mama?" Then, since I was off for the day, the poor little guy had to be a tag along tot and go run some errands with me.  He was singing, "I love love love love love, A." in the back seat.  He is definitely going to miss his big sister!