I can tell that we are going to be friends


It's almost 11 p.m.
I have two baskets of laundry yet to fold, one of them big enough that it could take me in a barfight. It taunts me when I walk past it. There's a load of darks still in the dryer.

My bedroom is a disaster. Clothes are strewn about the bed, which isn't made - my mother is reading this at work and cringing right now because to her, admitting that your bed went unmade all day is akin to confessing that you wear dirty underwear.

My floors are clean, my bathrooms are clean, if only because, as the only girl in my household, I refuse to let the boys completely overtake everything. A cloud of dust follows them like Pig Pen from "Peanuts."

I need to start the dishwasher, but this being the first time I've sat down all day in a non-excremental manner, I AM NOT GETTING UP.

There are wooden alphabet blocks scattered across the living room floor. Chris might step on one of those because he never looks where he's walking. I'm still not getting up, though.

Liam began kindergarten today and we conducted our first K5 lesson.

It was wonderful. Teaching him is like running outside after the first snowfall of the year to your smooth, blank, white yard. There isn't the intrusion of one single footprint, handprint, or dog print.

Because of this, the laundry doesn't matter. That big basket can suck it. The blocks all over the floor barely register in my consciousness.
Liam had his first lesson. And he rocked it.
I rocked it too, I think.

The years of researching, the previous year of preschool practice, all of it geared for this very day were worth it. I know that I had a good day and I know that I have beginner's zeal. I know that there will be hard times, days where I'll want to hang myself with my fancy bedsheets off my deck, days where Liam's attention will crumple, days where he won't catch on so quick, days where he'll be frustrated and I'll be frustrated and he'll shout how he does "not like learning very much at all!" Like last year, when A Beka said I should teach him cursive and I was all "Okie-dokie" because I was stupid. Now I know better. But there will still be those days.

But it's the days like today that help me move on through.


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Dana asks: "Thanksgiving Traditions: Yours or Your Mother's?"