Unicorn: verb. to take something sucktacious and turn it into something good.
Sucktacious: adjective. Generally bad. (see also: craptastic)

I realize I need to start an ETST glossary for my made-up words. Actually, there’s probably an entire archive of them buried in posts. What fun it would be to alphabetize them and actually define them for you, but then again–ya’lls pretty smart; I bet you figured out their meaning on your own.

So, I figured out a way to unicorn Car Line–Car Line, of course, being the proper noun attributed to the sucktacious afternoon event of sitting in your car between three hundred other cars all crammed together in a giant “S” that overtakes two skinny parking lot lanes at school. There’s a strategy to Car Line–an exact time you can arrive that doesn’t make you too eager beaver, all first in line with a whole hour of awkardly looking out your window at the other eager beavers lined up next to you (me, first day), and yet avoiding the holy-crap-I-almost-forgot-to-pick-up-my-kid end of line straggler (me, every day come the last two months of school) who comes whizzing up the curb at the end of the day while safety patrols clean up the traffic cones. The thing is, the strategy to nailing the perfect Car Line wait time is kind of a mystery as you never know how many parents on one particular day are going to attempt to arrive at that perfect time. Brett has no patience for it. In fact, when he says the word “Car Line,” it sounds like expletive, expletive, Car Line, expletive. Me? Well, I try to practice the language of my unicorn heritage as much as possible, so I smile and say things like “it’s not that bad.” And now I’ve actually figured out a way to turn “not that bad” into so good that Car Line is one of my favorite parts of the day. I go an hour early, get first in line, bring my laptop, work in the car and listen to one “This American Life” podcast (thank you, Pam, for the app tip) while I wait. Car Line is now up there with getting a manicure–peaceful, quiet, productive.

Enjoying…

* Lainey climbed in the car after aforementioned Car Line today and said, “Mom, guess what? I saw a boy crying today and me and a girl named Reece helped him.” My heart skipped a little happy beat.

* My girl who loves to do my hair while I work.

* Abiding by one of Florida’s Ten Commandments: If thou drive past the beach, thou must stop at it.

* Seeing a turtle at the beach.

* The way she thinks running toward the camera is a game.

* Dash’s new tripod. We count to maybe ten before we notice pre-teeter-over movements, and then we swoop in to save him from a fall.

* Cat Piano Concert for Duck Audience.

* Dreaming about the day this boy will sleep more than two-hour stretches.

* Making dinner with Lainey last night and letting her use a blunt butter knife to cut garlic. She thought she was Top Chef.

* Swiper. He’s particularly fond of Brett’s crib mobile doppelganger.

* Sisters who read together.

* The balloon game.

* Ice cream just ‘cuz. We do that a lot.

* Finding this amazing song by Vance Joy (thank you, Nicola!) and realizing that their album is called “God Loves You When You’re Dancing.”

God Loves You When You’re Dancing.
I love that. I really love that.

Happy day, friends.

Well, we’re off to a new school year with this morning’s drop-off to the first grade classroom looking entirely different from last year’s. Lainey’s calm assurance left me with such peace as I kissed her cheek, waved good-bye and walked out of her classroom, looking back only once to confirm that no, I wasn’t seeing things. She was comfortable and fine, and that felt so good for all of us.

There are some things about homeschooling that I love and gave up with choosing public school, but we homeschool our kids from the minute we pick them up from school to the next morning when we take them back. So I like to say my kids have both. I know public schools have to think about germs and cleanliness with so many kids, so I get that classrooms can’t have couches and pillows and quilts and stuffed animals; but I miss those things. “First grade feels so tiley,” I told Heidi today after drop-off. “Why is there so much tile? I miss rugs and blankets.” Moving on. We love our teacher, we love first grade.

I procrastinated on school prep until about noon yesterday when I decided I’d tackle two week’s worth of work. I flew around the house tornado style, cleaning, folding, vacuuming, scrubbing. Nella followed two steps behind me, uncleaning as she went. But somehow we made it, and last evening there was a clean house, clothes set out, lunch made, school forms filled in, backpack ready and children bathed. I did the beginning-of-school rundown with Lainey: “Wash your hands a lot, tell the teacher if you have any problems, don’t share hats or brushes, keep track of your water bottle, be kind, be kind, be kind. You’re going to learn so much.” And then I did the beginning-of-school rundown with myself, which goes something like “When did this happen?!” When did I go from being a first time mom, all pinching myself because I got to wear a Baby Bjorn with a kid in it who actually belonged to me, to a mom of three kids–making lunches, e-mailing teachers and planning a trio of Halloween costumes?

Big Sap gets sappy when school starts.

……

In other weekend fun, we met sweet Ellie and her family, visiting from D.C.

When Nella wears skirts, she looks down and watches her feet and the way her skirt swishes so much that we have to tell her to watch where she’s going.

And this one finally broke two teeth last week. Glory be.

He’s scooching, reaching, kicking, moving.
Onward. Forward.

For all of us.

*****

This week, I’m over at BabyZone sharing 9 Great Thrift Shop Finds for your Nursery and I’m at All Parenting talking about why we’re turning off the iPad more these days.

Happy First Day of the work week.

“Often people attempt to live their lives backwards: they try to have more things, or more money, in order to do more of what they want so that they will be happier. The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then, do what you need to do, in order to have what you want.” ~Margaret Young

I felt emotionally itchy yesterday afternoon–a ball of boredom, edginess and discontentment slowly growing until it seemed nothing was right. I noticed everything–the split ends on my hair, the balled-up lint on the rug I just vacummed, the fact that the chipped dishes in our plate collection now outweighed the intact ones. I hadn’t reviewed sight words with Lainey as much as I wanted to this summer, and there are a slew of creative projects in my brain that I haven’t made efforts to unleash.

“I have to get out of here,” I told Brett. Because sometimes I think bolting is the best answer for discomfort. He took the girls in the pool while I buckled Dash in the carseat, anxious to go find the cure for my edginess. I’ll go thrifting, I thought. Or walk the aisles of Target. Get a coffee. Buy a new book. Find a new lipstick color.

I drove without any plan of where I was going until I realized that maybe bolting wasn’t the answer. Everything I loved was back at home, and my attempt to run and find something that would temporarily calm my edginess was probably only feeding it. So I turned around and went home. I brought Dash inside, tapped on the sliding glass door to signal to Brett I had returned and smiled when he raised his eyebrows. “Back so soon?” he mouthed.

I made tea and sipped it slowly, watching from the window while the girls played in the pool.  I can’t say that my discontentment magically disappeared, but my discomfort with it did. There are many times that a quick trip to Target or a new book is needful for a pick-me-up or a game changer among monotony. But yesterday, it felt good to give my discontentment a big ‘ol hug instead of running away from it.

I need a haircut. My dishes are chipped. The carpet in my bedroom is outdated and dirty, and I am kicking my own ass far too much lately over things for which I need to make room for compassion. Today, I’m telling myself, “It’s okay to not be there. Here is good too.” This place where I am in raising children, in exploring the world, in creatively expressing myself, in navigating my faith journey and taking care of a family and following paths of dreams? It’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. So settle down. Be who you are. Do what you need to do. Don’t live life backwards…you’ll miss so much.

*****

We’re getting ready for school to start next week, squeezing in some fun day adventures while we can. That’s what I miss the most about summer–having Lainey here and being able at any given time to say “Hey, let’s go do something fun.”

Last week we painted pottery at a little studio downtown and then set out to explore the neighboring dock.

The girls washed their hair in the rain fall-off from the pizza parlor roof because I heard that was very sanitary and conditioning.

And this weekend, our family took a day trip to see our dear friend Rebecca who was visiting her parents on Gasparilla Island. Right off shore we saw snook, needlefish, jellyfish, two dolpins and a manatee.

No, those two dolphins weren’t the ones we saw.

Jellyfish.  Not breast implant.

Oh, and a perfect example of the truest contentment dwelling right where we are, in our homes. While Brett had Lainey in the pool the other night, I attempted to put Nella and Dash to bed but instead just watched them do their sibling thing.

Music: “Song for Zula” by Phosphorescent

Hope your week is starting off well.