“Sweetie, can you, get him off to the bus today? I can get him this afternoon.”
“I’ll put the trash out when I get back. Do you want me to set an alarm?”
Look. 6:45. 7:15 is drop-dead HAVE-TO be up.
“I made his lunch, it’s on the counter.”
“Um….oh, thanks, sweetie…”
“No, I got it… I’ll set the clock, here…..” click, toggle, click, oofff.
7:15. Up. Up, up. Alden is asleep, up, go. Face splash, teeth brush, contacts, slippers, wake him up. “Hi buddy.” Snuggle. “I love you.” “I love you too.” How about some zucchini bread for breakfast? (We’ve frozen a few loaves…) “Not CRUNCHY.:” OK… I’ll try…
Oh– It’s Thursday — Library Day. “Any idea where your school library book is?” “Oh, yeah, I know.” He heads for a very random looking pile on the floor. Heart sinks. Crap. What happens if you don’t return a School Library Book?
“Here it is!”
Sweet. Awesome. In the backpack.
Ding, bread. Thank GOD, it’s warm, not crunchy. First bite, he says, “Mm! It’s perfect!” Yee haw, a rare moment of affirmation. Glow fopr a sec, then, He eats two slices and asks for a third.
Look at the clock.
The bus is at about 8:05.
Ok, slice three out of the foil, into the toaster-oven, warms for four minutes and eaten in two. Boots on. Fleece on (over protests.)
Out the door and to the bus stop. In ones, twos and threes, the thirteen kids of our bus stop arrive, accompanied by their grownups who have woken, heated, located, dressed, packed, soothed, figured it out and made it to the bus stop with a child or two more or less ready for the day.
We chat a bit.
It shouldn’t feel like an accomplishment to make it to the bus stop, with a child who has eaten something, is wearing clean clothes and carrying what he needs for the day. But it kinda is, every day.