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You know how you’re walking along and then you trip over something, but you don’t fall on your face, you just continue to stumble and trip, almost falling down, but not quite, until you finally catch your balance again? Starting school today was like that. Not like the stumbling part, but like catching balance at the end of the stumbling. Suddenly, instead of every moment needing full attention and wild flailing, there is just a calm walking rhythm. I don’t think I fully realized how chaotic the summer was until I reached today. I had all the kids out the door by 8 am. I had the critical business tasks done by 11 and there were still several quiet hours left in the day. Now I’m in the afternoon when all the kids are around and I don’t spend any time in my office. This evening there will be dinner and homework and an early bedtime. This isn’t the first day of a new routine. This is having my old routine back where it belongs.

Today I was seized by a need to sort through all the clothes in our house. My primary purpose was to get rid of many of them because after doing post-trip laundry for two conventions, one family vacation, and one camping trip, I’m of the opinion that we all have way too many clothes. Also I wanted to assess what clothes my kids have waiting for them when cold weather hits in October. I now have a big pile of things that are leaving my house and never coming back. I also have newly sorted boxes waiting for kids to grow a little bigger. I have identified the gaps that I’ll need to fill. (not many) And I’m still feeling like we have too many clothes. But at least I know where they all are and most of them are clean.

The parking lot was nigh full, so I had to park by the playground. This meant that walking in to the school involved coaxing Gleek off of the playground equipment. “I’m not going to play.” She assured me. “I’m just going to climb over everything.” Never mind that this required Patch, who was jumping with impatience to meet his teacher, and Link to wait for her traverse to be complete. My cries of “No playground.” fell on deaf ears and I was left to decide whether to make an issue of the disobedience or to make allowances based on the excitement of back-to-school night. I let it slide. I probably let things like this slide too often. I need to work on that.

Patch’s teacher met us at the door with a scavenger hunt sheet and a box of crayons. Patch has spent the last five days telling everyone “I have a nice teacher.” This assurance was imparted by me when I told him about her. Now it is fact, just as his teacher’s name is fact. Patch carefully selected a blue crayon from the box extended to him. We then set about the serious business of finding the coat rack, the cubbies, the bathroom, and the parent sign-up sheets. At each stop, Patch would carefully fill in the box with his blue crayon. After we’d seen it all, Patch returned to his teacher to trade the crayon for a sucker, also blue. And we were done. Patch will get a more thorough orientation on the day he comes in for his kindergarten assessment. On that day, the teacher will have time to pay attention to just him. For now, I am just glad that he has the teacher who is organized and structured. Patch needs organization and structure.

Link’s class came next. Within moments of walking into the room, I knew that my decision to have Link switched to this teacher was the right one. The teacher’s face lit up when he saw Link. With a big smile and a firm handshake, the teacher said “Wow, you’ve gotten big! I remember you when you were in Kindergarten! I think I still have one of the pictures you drew.” This teacher was Link’s kindergarten class aide. Then he was the PE teacher for the whole school before he settled in as a fifth grade teacher. He fell in love with Link in kindergarten and still loves Link now. I can not do better than to put Link into a classroom where he is already loved. Not only that, but this teacher is a high energy, enthusiastic teacher as well. I think Link will have a great year. Fifth grade is US history, and who better to learn that from than a man who loves it so much that he participates in re-enactment groups.

We pulled Link away from his teacher because Gleek was ready to vibrate out of her shoes. Gleek has not one, but two teachers this year. The two teachers trade off teaching because one is a reading specialist. This is good because they’re going to need to team up to manage the class list they’ve got. Whenever I get together with other mothers who have kids Gleek’s age, we posit that there must have been something in the water that year. I’ve never met a group of kids that has such a large quotient of high-energy, determined, distractable, people. I know of at least four kids in Gleek’s class who have the potential to become behavioral issues if they’re not handled carefully. Gleek heads that list. Gleek dashed into the classroom, intent on finding her desk, but was instead lured to the reading platform with its beanbag chairs. She climbed railings and jumped off of the steps. She located her desk and made note of who else was in her class. She barely looked at her teacher and she did not stop moving. Hopefully she got it out of her system today and on Monday she’ll be ready to sit still. I greeted the teacher. Link had her years ago, so she recognized me. I did not try to give her a briefing on Gleek. There was no point this evening. The teacher was overwhelmed with too many kids and parents today. I’ll talk to her in either a week or a month. It’ll be a week if there is an Incident during the first week of school. The lack of an Incident means that Gleek is in angel-child mode and is probably the best behaved child in the class. Then I’ll have to wait for when Gleek has worn out the angel-child and has settled in, otherwise I’ll only get strange looks when I try to explain why my angel might need special attention. I’m really hoping for the angel-child route because it means that the structure of the classroom is working well for Gleek. If it is not working well, we’ll all know in very short order.

The playground was traversed once again on the return trip to the car. Again I let it slide. Sigh.

Earlier today I went on a solo trip to Kiki’s school. She got accepted into the advanced English/History class that we wanted for her. This required a complete re-shuffling of her schedule. Fortunately all the electives she wanted still fit. She is having a very eclectic year. Eighth grade is a good time for her to experiment with new things before settling in to take the classes she’ll need for college admissions. I was very pleased with the staff at Kiki’s school. Everyone was wonderfully kind and accommodating. Kiki is also going to have a good year I think.

So now we’re all ready. The starting bell on the new school year rings Monday morning.

The kids are delighted to be home. They are expressing that delight by getting out of bed dozens of times, shouting “mooom!” every three minutes, laughing, teasing siblings, squabbling, shrieking, dissolving into tears because I insist that they change into pajamas, flopping about on the floor like helpless little fish, refusing to eat, clinging to me liked over-sized barnacles, and being angry with the world in general. These are children in sore need of regular meal times and bedtimes. I’m not complaining about the care they received at my mother’s house, which was excellent. In fact I have been informed by several children that life would be much better if we could all go back there and stay forever. They want more of the garden of delights, but they need normality. And it is my job to provide it for them whether they want it or not.

I’m starting to remember why it felt like such a blessed relief to only be responsible for myself for 10 days. I’m also starting to realize why Howard was completely wiped out by the end of four days of convention while I was tired, but still had energy to burn. I’ve had years of endurance training. (Also I think Howard runs hotter at conventions and I got more breaks.)

Four more days until school begins. I have four days to wrestle the kids into a sleep schedule that will allow for breakfast and getting dressed before school begins at 8 am. I have four days to stabilize life around here so the transition to school can go smoothly. In good news, Link was transferred to the class of the teacher who already loves him. Also Kiki has been put into the accelerated English/History program so she’ll actually be challenged this year. Now we just have to shift every other class in her schedule around that switch.

Link spotted me only seconds after I saw him through the crowd debarking from the plane. His whole face lit up and he began to run. Fortunately he is still small and nimble. More fortunately still, the distance was short and not many people were in the way. I did not remonstrate him. I was too busy holding him tight. Kiki crashed in to join the hug right behind him. I held them both tight and was whole again. Partway whole. We still needed to navigate baggage claim and meet my brother in the parking lot to trade two nephews and a niece for my remaining son and daughter.

The moment our arms relaxed from hugging, the shower of chatter began.
“I got to drive a go-cart!”
“You should have seen Grandma…”
“I was too short, they wouldn’t let me drive…”
“Look at this!”
“I got one too!”
“The beach was cold!”
“…and then we laughed because it was too big!”
“there were waves and they…”
“…in Chinatown and I bought…”
“Grandpa got it for me!”
“I missed my house.”
“Can we find a restroom?”
Five young voices all ran at top speed, completing each other’s stories, vying to tell the cool bits. One story crashing on top of another until it was all a wash of cheerful noise. We navigated through the airport, collected bags, and found my van. They missed me, I missed them, but everyone had a marvelous time while we were apart.

Gleek and Patch were less exuberant about greeting me. They were far more occupied making sure their new treasures were properly transferred from their Uncle’s car into mine. But there have been hugs since. Many hugs. My heart felt like the creaky fingers of a long-clenched fist, now able to relax. When they were gone, I put the mother part of myself away for awhile. It was necessary. The mother revolves around the children. Without them she has only grief. But I was able to unpack her last night because the kids came home today and now she is needed again.

We arrived at home just as Howard did. They each gave him joyful hugs. Then the children scattered. Kiki and Link found video games to play. Patch and Gleek ran through the backyard to find their friends. Howard looked around and said it well “They missed normal as much as they missed us.” It is true. The kids had a wonderful adventure. I’ll be hearing it in bits and pieces for months to come, but for now they are just glad to be at home. I am glad that my house is full of the joyful noise of children playing, singing, squabbling, and shouting “Moooom!”

When I looked at the travel schedule and realized that I would be at home a full two days before the kids, I expected to spend those days sad. I expected to actively miss the kids and lament their absence. Nope. It has been so nice to decompress from the convention in a quiet house. My brain has been so busy sorting, and accounting, and unpacking that I’m almost as busy as I was during the convention. But I’m almost done now and so it is good that the kids will be home tomorrow. I think I did much of my missing of the kids in advance. For today, I will revel in getting to watch a non-kid movie in the middle of the afternoon. Even more luxurious, it is a non-Howard movie as well. He scoffed at me when I rejoiced in getting to watch my movie on the big downstairs TV.
“Your movies don’t need big sounds. Your movies are for sipping drinks out of small cups.” Howard isn’t an old movie person. I am sometimes. I certainly like them better than anything Zombie. So I’ll take my little cup and watch my movie while the kids are away and Howard is off drawing things at Dragon’s Keep.

I am at home. I slept last night in my own bed. The car is unloaded and the unpacking has begun. The mental unpacking has begun too. I just flooded all the poor people who read this blog with a pile of new entries transcribed from my convention notebook. The house is very quiet without the kids, but this is good for today. I have a chance to clear all the convention stuff from my brain so that when I see them on Wednesday, they can have my full attention. I did do a little bit of Mommy stuff this morning. The kid’s class assignments arrived. I was delighted with Patch’s kindergarten assignment. He got the teacher I wanted for him. I had to double check with Gleek’s former teacher about her placement, but it looks good as well. Link’s placement is a good one, but it is not the teacher that he and I had hoped for. This teacher is one who was Link’s classroom aide when Link was in Kindergarten. Several times during the course of the year, the teacher took time to tell me how much he enjoyed Link. So I went down to the school to fill out a form requesting Link be switched to this teacher’s class. I don’t know if it will work, but it is worth a try.

Next I need to dive into post-convention accounting. My accounting folder is overflowing with stuff to do.