Chasing Buses and Talking Trash

If I said I'd unpacked all the boxes from the latest move, I'd be lying. So I won't say that. Instead, we're living around them. The problem is that Andrew sleeps in the closet (don't be alarmed, it is a walk-in), so when he's napping, I can't work in there. And when he's awake, he won't let me work in there. Living around the boxes was working out great until I realized 20 minutes before leaving for school on Tuesday that I'd packed Jacob's homework in a box and it was due that day. We frantically searched the piles of papers inside the box labeled "random papers and other stuff" and rushed to get it done before having to sprint for the bus. That's how we roll. I like the excitement.

And speaking of excitement, I challenged myself to the "keep seven kids alive with no one losing an appendage ultimate test of endurance and sanity" on Wednesday, so that I could help out a friend who was moving across Oakwood as well. The problem with watching other people's kids when you have three kids of your own is that your three ring circus suddenly expands to Barnum and Bailey proportions. The visiting kids explored the apartment and played contently; my kids vied for the spotlight as a sofa-walking monkey, an Uno-card-throwing clown, and the incredibly hungry baby. And speaking of the hungry baby, Andrew had his first taste of Oreo this week. Then, he demanded another.

Thursday, I chaperoned Jacob's first grade class's field trip to the I-66 Transfer Station Complex. Who knew that 6 year old kids could get so excited about trash? The girls held their noses at the stinky smell, but all were mesmerized by the piles of garbage being pushed by bulldozers into trucks. Jacob and I are fairly certain we spotted an Oakwood couch amongst the condemned piles. And now I know more than I ever cared to know about trash and what becomes of it after we send it down the apartment chute.

And speaking of first graders, I couldn't help but notice how affectionate they are with one another. They giggled and whispered to one another, walked hand in hand, and totally invaded each others' personal space. Which made me wonder, when do children learn to feel socially awkward about being so close to one another? And what teaches them the sad lesson to be uncomfortable showing how much they like someone? I couldn't help but imagine the bus to FSI filled with animated adults in brightly colored suits climbing over one another to see out the window or to touch each others' hair.

And speaking of buses and uncomfortable situations, today we actually almost did miss the bus--again. And this time I can't even blame Andrew. Being closer to the bus stop has given me a false sense of the time it takes to get Jacob to school; but luckily, enough people saw us running and screaming toward the bus stop that they flagged the bus down just in time for Jacob to climb aboard. I think people may be starting to wonder how I ever manage to make it anywhere on time with my three kids. What I sight I must make in the morning dragging a preschooler and clutching a baby while frantically yelling for Jacob to run. It's not easy to look this disorganized.

I can't remember now how I spent the other days this week, but I assure you they were punctuated with more boxes and buses and bright ideas. And Benjy. He was here too.