Toothwhale

Rookies in the school drop-off game

Henry's first day of kindergarten was last Monday, but because of the school's gradual phase in of kindergartners, yesterday was the first day we needed to get him to school by the 7:50 a.m. start time. I'm years out of practice with keeping a tight morning schedule and navigating morning traffic, but Jake isn't. In the interest of an unfrustrated wife, he offered to do drop-off on most days. Keeping with the plan, he'd take Henry yesterday. Even with the traffic and the drop-off line to contend with, we thought we'd be in good shape if they left by 7:15.

I set out Henry's clothes on Sunday night and Jake and I woke up to his alarm yesterday morning. We had breakfast and I got Henry dressed while Jake showered. They pulled out of the driveway right at 7:15, and I was proud of us and eager to get a phone call from Jake telling me how it went.

What rookies we are.

He called a few minutes before 8:00. "Tardy," he said. He had pulled into the school parking lot at 7:45, expecting to see a line of cars and older students helping unload younger ones, but there was no line; there were no helpers. Everybody was already inside. He was late, and Henry was tardy on what felt like the first day of school.

We hashed it out throughout the day. The only thing to do was leave earlier.

We decided I'd take him today. I set my alarm for 6:00. I woke up numerous times in the night in anticipation. When I finally heard the sounds of an early morning radio show, I got into the shower. I fed the kids breakfast and got them dressed. We stayed within two minutes of the new schedule, and I buckled them into the car at 7:07.

The traffic floored me.

I couldn't believe there were that many people already on their way somewhere. I think I said, "Get back in bed, people."

I got to the school at 7:37. I saw the drop-off line -- the wide loop around -- and I panicked. He could not be late again. I parked the car, got Henry and Harper out as fast as I could, and took the new kindergarten parent liberty of walking him in.

We slid in the side door at 7:41 and I saw the tail end of a line of children that included a few newly familiar faces. "Is that your class?" I asked Henry. "Yes," he said. "OK, have a sweet day," I said, as I nudged him onto the end of the line.

We had seen them in the nick of time.

Leaving at 7:15 meant being tardy. Leaving at 7:07 meant making it in the nick of time.

Unbelievable.

What rookies we are.

I talked it over with my sister, and with Jake.

The only thing to do is leave earlier.

Earlier!

Twelve down, the rest of forever to go

A couple weeks ago, Jake and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. The next day, an issue of Newsweek came in the mail. (I know I said a year ago that I was done with Newsweek.) In it was an article by Jessica Bennett and Jesse Ellison called "'I Don't': The Case Against Marriage." The authors make the case convincingly enough, but I'm not convinced.

Bennett and Ellison write that "marriage is -- from a legal and practical standpoint, at least -- no longer necessary." They say women have their own degrees, careers, health care and 401(k)s; having children out of wedlock lost its stigma a long time ago; and heterosexual couples have more unmarried rights to partnership now than ever. Besides, they point out, when Americans do marry, we divorce more often than anyone in the Western world. They're overgeneralizing, I think, but I'm with them.

It's in their attitude toward marriage that they lose me. "Boomers may have been the first children of divorce, but ours is a generation for whom multiple households were the norm. We grew up shepherded between bedrooms, minivans, and dinner tables, with step-parents, half-siblings, and highly complicated holiday schedules. You can imagine, then -- amid incessant high-profile adultery scandals -- that we'd be somewhat cynical about the institution. (Till death do us part, really?)" they write.

Maybe because I have still-married parents, I'm not cynical about the institution. And I've often thought that till death hardly seems long enough.

The authors close the article with the opinion that "healthy partnerships are possible, for sure -- but the permanence of marriage seems naive, almost arrogant." Perhaps. But I'm still planning on forever.

Project 365: Week 14

My days as a stay-at-home mom tend to melt together, but I still get excited about weekends. Weekends mean he'll be at home, too. Sleeping in a little if he can. Reading the paper a little longer. Bringing his Starbucks back home instead of drinking it in traffic. Going for a run. Eating a sandwich. Making the kids laugh with his Pop ways, and doing a better job than I do of making sure they get exercise and fresh air. Before five years ago, we spent so much of our free time together. Now, there's just a lot less free time. We need a date night. We need a getaway. For this moment -- last weekend, this weekend, and probably the next -- we'll have to make do, I'll have to make do, with the little stolen moments that Saturday and Sunday, in particular, seem to bring.

To see the other six photos from the Project 365 this week, check out my Flickr photostream. I took this one at Nashville's Fannie Mae Dees Park, better known around here as Dragon Park.

Project 365: Week 5

Dear Jake,

Thanks for taking care of the kids while I'm at my blogging conference. You're an awesome Pop. They'll love you forever for all the things you do with them now, even if it's hitting them with snowballs. Maybe especially for that.

Love,
Rebecca

 

Click on over to my complete Flickr photostream to see the other six pictures from Week 5.