School has started. The summer is so completely over, my head is spinning. Last week we were off to the pool, towels and sunscreen in hand, and this week we are fully in the grind. My brain is drained. I probably will not write one funny or interesting thing this entire post. You've been warned.
Although school has eaten summer up and spit out its splintered bones, I still don't feel in the routine yet. Of course, that might be because school just started yesterday, but I want my routine and I want it now! I am such a routine freak, and I accept this about myself. The older I get, the more things I accept about myself. For instance, that I accept that I will never weigh 125 again, and probably won't ever weigh 140 again, either, though that's my goal.
And I accept that I love routines. I love lunches made and stored in the fridge the night before. I love clothes laid out at night on the backs of chairs and shoes and socks set out above the fire place (where the dog can't eat them). I love backpacks packed before bedtime and left ready by the door. I love bedtime.
Ahhh, bedtime. My children were regular little anarchists about bedtime this summer, but they have accepted their bedtime routines without complaint now that school has started. Okay, Jack's complained a little bit about having to go upstairs a full hour before his bedtime, but thems the break, kid. The house needs to be quiet for Will to go to sleep, and if Jack's up and about, he's whistling and playing bongos on the wall and dropping books, and generally raising a ruckus.
By the way, Jack has gotten lost both days trying to find his classes at the middle school (even though we went to the open house on Monday and walked around to each classroom). What I love about Jack is that he's more chagrinned than embarrassed, and seems largely of the opinion that the fault lies with the school's architect, who's clearly an idiot.
Okay, Jack simply MUST I-Chat with his best friend from school, who he hasn't had a chance to engage in a serious discussion of videogames for at least five hours now, and Will wants a milkshake. If I'm going to get everyone to bed on time (and I'm going to!), I must be off. More soon!
Vive Le Français!
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