sprung

Doesn't it look as if these two are climbing the walls of their cage?

That's exactly how I felt yesterday. I hit a wall, scrambling, but my efforts to scale it were futile. Downright pathetic, especially when compared with these agile and energetic climbers. At one point I crashed onto the couch, defeated, near tears, while the two little animals continued to torture me. Mike eventually dragged them away, thank goodness. I can't even remember what they were doing exactly, or why I felt unable to rouse myself into more definitive action to put a stop to it.

I can tell you that Gabriel is enjoying a new destructive streak, delighting in his ability to throw heavy objects and empty jars and baskets of small items (crayons, beans, letter magnets) all over the kitchen floor. Frances is reveling in naughtiness; I caught her squeezing agave nectar from the bottle straight into her mouth the other day. The two of them can inspire each other to greater heights of whining, picky eating, and general disobeying. And of course it's a two-way street. My role in all this makes me feel most frustrated of all. I am wondering why discipline is difficult for me; why setting boundaries seems so effortful and enforcing consequences wipes me out. But that is a post for another day.

Instead, let me tell you about today. It is 1:45. I just took a shower, after which I leisurely put on some clothes, then placed the clean laundry sitting on the bed into its home drawers, taking the time to neatly close them. Then I plucked my eyebrows. I read some of the paper. Can you believe this? Are you wondering what planet I have moved to?

Planet Kindergarten! Bring on the bon bons!

Annapolis Elementary opened my cage door with a simple flick of a wrist. Gabriel and I had a beautiful morning together. Without his beloved big sister/mastermind around to imitate, he is more laid-back. Mellow. Interested in eating sugar snap peas for lunch and building towers out of blocks and uninspired to protest when naptime rolled around. It was so quiet in the house, he knew he wouldn't be missing much.

And can you blame me if I put him down a little early? If I couldn't stop grinning as I anticipated naptime? At first my mind was abuzz with all the satisfying things I could do: clean up the garden, read my novel, deal with the neglected pile of bills and mail sitting on the counter, make tea, write thank you notes, catch up on the New Yorker...when it hit me. I get to do this again tomorrow. There's time.

I'm sure if Frances weren't so darned thrilled by kindergarten I wouldn't be like a kid in candy shop right now. But she is! Her first day was a great success. In fact, she told me it was "the best first day of school ever." She attended three preschools over three years; they varied in quality but happily her enthusiasm for school never wavered. She loves meeting new people, loves feeling independent, loves learning. Mike reported that she wanted to walk into the building by herself this morning, which she did, and didn't glance back at him once.

So all feels right in my world, if only for this moment. Frances is happy in school. I'm happy having a break from her. Gabriel is chomping at the bit to go to his new "school" too, which will begin on Wednesday (a home-based day care called Lucky Duck, where he'll spend two days a week). And right now, he's happily sleeping!

I hope you and yours are happy right now too, as fall brings all its changes. Happy Monday!