Back to School. If my Facebook feed is to be believed, I should be ecstatic that my daughter is back to school. If the words coming from my friends and family are true I should be so happy to have “just one” at home now. So easy. You must be bored. And what do you do with all that free time?
Yesterday morning I put my six year old on the bus, on her way to her third day of Grade 1. It was a beautiful morning, sunny with a cool breeze, perfect blue sky, so when my three year old ask that we go for a walk instead of heading straight home I readily agreed. I let her choose the direction. We walked several blocks out of the way compared to our regular route, and eventually made our way home. The three year old had already had breakfast, I hadn’t. I also had a growing headache, probably from skipping breakfast and then taking an hour long stroll. So we headed home. Baby-G asked if she could play with sidewalk chalk. Sure. Why not? Sounds like a great idea.
First, inside the house for a bit. Potty breaks for all. Gulp down a muffin. Brew a cup of coffee. Head outside with coffee and Chromebook in tow. I have this crazy idea in my head that I am going to sit in the shade on a perfect September day and write a blog post on my new Chromebook, while my darling girl makes chalk drawings at my feet. The reality is that sitting on the porch doesn’t work, it’s cool out but the sunlight beats down on me and makes the screen on the computer illegible . The reality is that by the time I’m wrangled a lawn chair out of the backyard and into a shady spot on the driveway the novelty of having the entire box of chalk to herself is already wearing off. We make a quick run back inside to grab some juice for Baby-G. I sit down and try and type. I manage to get maybe two sentences written. My black skirt is covered in little blue and pink chalk handprints. Constant calls of “Look mama, look!” interspersed with my daughter gently grabbing my chin and turning my face “LOOK.”
I close the Chromebook. I look. I discuss the merits of colourful bottomless pits that monsters can fall down, vs. friendly rainbow monsters who are grumpy because they lost their favourite duck. We draw replacement ducks, and sail boats that work to rescue ducks lost out at sea. We work out elaborate plans to rescue imaginary friends who have apparently gotten stuck at the top of the lightpost at the end of our driveway.