Cloud Nine Girl

“Simon, get your shoes on!” I yell from the kitchen, feeling antsy and worried I’ll be late for work. He comes running down the hall with a big smile showing me his shoes. “Check out your toes. Are they on the right feet?” I ask him.

Then my little girl, walks in all wobbly with her arms stuffed with her babies. You can’t see her eyes. She can’t even see where she’s going. “Sissy, one toy. We can’t take all your babies in the car to school.”

There we are, standing in my yellow kitchen, studying each other, me scratching my head thinking, am I missing something?

I sigh, and we scurry down the steps anyway, to the garage, and I buckle all the seat belts. I pull the car out of the garage and freeze. I did! I forgot my phone, or a change of clothes for the little one, or maybe I didn’t shut the pantry door, and I know if I don’t shut the pantry door, I’ll come home at lunch to a mess made by the dog with him finding his food or something else, tearing it up all over the place.

A typical morning lately, in the life of me.

Not today. Last night I vowed to make it a different sort of morning—a really great and organized one. Today, my son started the first day of his educational journey—pre-k summer school, preparing him for Kindergarten in August, so I woke up early as usual, but with a plan this time. I set out all our clothes the night before, packed our food for the day, backpacks, all the things I knew needed to get out of the door, with us—we made my goal.

We left the house at 6:55 a.m. so I could drop off the wee one, pick up Simon’s school supplies from his old preschool classroom so I could take him hand-in-hand to check in to his new school. I wanted to be there and help him if he had questions. I wanted to be able to let him know it was safe and loving just like his preschool, and I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know if he’d be sad. He woke up this morning asking me, “Momma, am I going to kindergarten after nap today?”

Now I’m looking at the pictures from this morning and I can’t believe my son is a big five-year-old. Everyone always tells you time flies. I forget that from time to time, getting worked up and stressed because I’m not moving fast enough. It’s the whole time thing and how you just can’t make more of it.

But today, I didn’t forget. I revisited an age-old practice I’ve known about: get organized and prepare for the day to come because selfishly, I wanted to enjoy every moment this morning, as it happened. And I did. It was amazing spending that extra time meeting his teachers and watching him run straight into the gym, circling around trying to figure out what to do first. He grinned. He jumped up and down the way he always does when he gets really excited, and I’m proud. We both did it. He felt ready and excited to take his new lunchbox to school, and his superhero backpack stuffed with his blanket and school supplies, and me, well, I got to enjoy every moment without stressing and wondering if I had missed anything. Hooray!