all images © Meghan Boyer Photography

Friday, March 8, 2013

That's Not My Breath! That's My Butt!

Kindergarten is hard.  For Lillian.  And even harder for me.  The teachers?  It's hard to believe that they come back. 

It's tough.  Every.morning. 

The 'kiss and go' lane is brilliant.  You pull up to the front of the school.  Remaining behind the wheel.  With your under four crew, still buckled into place.   You kiss your school aged kid.  And they go.  Into the school.  Except when they don't. 

One day recently, I pulled up to school.  Kissed Lillian.  And she refused to get out of the van.   I had no choice but to drive away.  There was a line of parents just waiting to shove their offspring out the door. 

Oh, don't mind us!  We just forgot our underpants!  Just running back home for a quick sec!  What?  Oh, no, no, no.  My kid isn't refusing to get out of the van.  Why on earth would you think that?  Maybe the fact that she's grasping onto the seat's headrest for dear life?  What is wrong with you people?  What is going on in this place?  Kindergartners can't get ice cream at lunch?  Well this place sucks!  I wouldn't want to go either!

The night before, Lil had asked me, "So, do we get to just play all day tomorrow? Or do we have to learn stuff?"  This is going to be a long year. 

The ride to school, leading up to this particular drop off,  was no indication of what was to come.  She had never actually refused to get out of the van before. 

It was the usual.  Lillian turned to Grady.  "Your breath stinks!  Did you brush your teeth?"  To which Grady calmly replied, "That's not my breath, that's my butt!"  Great.  Just great.

So I pull out of the 'kiss and go' lane, and into the parking lot.  What to do, what to do.  Lillian still has her fingers tightly wrapped around the metal rods holding up the head rest.  I look at Grady.  He's a mess.  Pajamas.  No shoes and socks.  Jacket-less.  And hair that looks like it was brushed with an egg beater.  I look at Dempsey.  He's dressed at least.  But there's something green hanging from his nose.  And a Frosted Flake is stuck to his eyebrow.  At least he still has eyebrows.  No one has shaved them off yet.  They'll save that for next week.  He also has no shoes and socks.  And is without a jacket.

I call the school.  "Um, hi.  I'm sitting in your parking lot and my kid is refusing to get out of the van."  I describe my vehicle.  In case they might miss the two, half naked boys covered in boogers and Frosted Flakes doing the Chinese Fire Drill.  And the girl being yanked from the van by her ankles.  School sucks.  We all hated it kid.  Get over it.  When this part is over, you get to be a grown up.  It sucks even more.  Then you die.  Blah.

A mom comes out.  One that helps in the drop off lane.  We see her every day.  She rocks.  And even laughed a couple of days earlier when Grady told her his stuffed dog's name is 'poop'.  Because what else would you name your stuffed dog?

She coerces Lillian inside.  With the promise of a pop the next day.  I'm so thankful for my kid's pop addiction.  It works.

I think Lillian worries about what she misses all day while she's gone.  When I'm home with the boys.  Alone.  This is exactly what she misses...

  • Grady finding a screwdriver and unscrewing the light switch covers.  Because he wants to replace them.
  • Grady and Dempsey stomping off with their blankies while Grady tells him, "Come on bud, we don't really like her."
  • Grady taking pictures of me, with my phone, while I'm in the shower.
The shower.  And the shower curtain.  There I am.  Behind it.  Hi.

Me.  In the shower. Behind the curtain.  Wait.  The phone is ringing.  I think it's the Victoria's Secret Model Department.  Nope.  Just the neighbors.  A kid got out again. 

  • Dempsey escaping into the back yard while I'm showering.   In the rain.  He escaped into the rain.  I wasn't showering in the rain.  Although that may be more efficient.  I run after him.  In my bath towel. After being alerted of the emergency.  By the kid who unlocked the sliding glass door for him. 
  • 'Playtime' in the gym's racquetball court
What do you mean you can't get out?

And she's right.  I would miss all these things too.  If I weren't here for them.

But I'm the grown up.  I'm supposed to pretend this sucks.  Go to school kid.  Because before you know it, you'll be grown up. 

Some people feel lucky when they find money on the ground.  Me?  It's a sign of good things to come when I spot a Magic Hat beer cap. 

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