I prayed all through August, scared of September. But September came anyway, that merciless louse, without regard to the fact that I wasn’t ready to trade in the freedom of summertime for mornings of rush and hurry and scheduled-in schedules.
And now we’re in it! Homework packs and piano lessons and Saturday mornings at the fields with shinguards and coolers full of watermelon and gatorade. Sayonara September! You will not be missed. You came in with your platform of promises. School supplies! Pumpkin everything! Crisp, happy encouragements! Instead, you stole my lunch money leaving me spiritually hungry and physically hot and frantic. Frantic for water. A cool glass of water. Still, calm waters. None of this harried and hurried and always rushing from one to the next to another. Late. As ever. As always.
It’s our first fall of multiple children in multiple places. Older mamas, you didn’t warn me. Why didn’t you tell me September is a bully? It’s okay. I wouldn’t have believed you. You can’t fully understand the know until you’ve lived the know. But now? I know. At this stage we’re in, September can empty you of your breath and gas tank and sanity.
Our tectonic plates of life are shifting over here. We’ve jumped head first into a parent participation preschool with Josiah. He’s also proven to be a little rockstar at his music class and I’m trying to not get too excited about how innately good he is at drums.
Selah is the bravest kid I know. We started a new school this week, switching her over to a charter school with oodles of creativity in and outside the classroom. It’s asking a lot for a six year old to change her world one month into the school year, but I’m so proud of how Selah (my highly structured, no change is the best change child) is navigating the newness of it all. Serendipitously, Selah just finished reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and was given a cd of her new school’s musical for the year: Willie Wonka! Praising God for these little coincidences. They are gifts. Little love notes reminding us it will be okay.
Teagan Elyse turned TWO this week! The only bright spot of September, that last day that is hers. And ours for splatter painting sidewalks and decorating cupcakes and doing dances of gratitude for surviving the infant years of all our children.