Sittin' On a Corner...

Today was the first day that I not only sent H off to school for a full day, but that he started the day by stepping into the hands of a stranger. That's right; the school bus. I have to say, it was a far less traumatizing situation than I thought it would be, but the bus driver was the antithesis of that of South Park's which I'm sure aided in my comfort level.

Rewind to the night before at about 5:30 when I realized that I hadn't even asked the school what time the bus would be there. Thank goodness for the age of the internet, because they had their schedule posted on line. Phew! Crisis averted, but oh-so-typical of my organizational skills these days.

I just couldn't get over the fact that my baby, flesh of my flesh, was getting on a bus to be in school all day long. Away from me. Out of my influence. Spreading his wings. He was so excited, and just seemed so grown up. After he left, Charlie and I walked back to the house, C crying the whole way that he wanted to ride the bus. Oh Charlie, for the love, let me have my moment. Back at the house, I settled him in his carseat so we could go grocery shopping.

Momentous occasion number 2 for the day came when I got to order a Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks because it's Fall again! That out of the way, I went to Super 1 Foods to get the items from my grocery list to fulfill what will amount to about two weeks' of meals, Charlie acting as monster truck driver all the while and then it was home again, home again, Jiggety Jigg.

As we walked in the house and were greeted by our pooch, the now-familiar smells of my home greeting me, I took a look around at the walls that finally had some of our decor on them, my seven year-old rubber tree that had been lovingly tended by my co-workers in Portland during my stint in New England had been brought back home, and time itself had started to make its stamp. I felt myself release a breath I didn't quite realize I'd been holding. It was like running in that the first mile is always hard for me. I run and run and think, this is never going to feel good or natural and then at about the same point every run I take a deep breath and release it and my body just settles in. But, if I'd stopped before that point, I would say with conviction that I hated running. I don't hate running, I just hate getting into my run.

Walla Walla, I think I'll settle in after all.