When there is math and sequencing involved in understanding my kid's daily schedule, it means I am SCREWED.

Well, here we are.  Tomorrow is the first day of school, and I'm kind of meh about it, because this summer, my children have proven themselves old enough to feed themselves breakfast--and so, the school year provides me with six whole hours of freedom a day, but it comes with a 7:00 wake-up time.    I'm not gonna lie, breakfast has become a *loose* term for pop-tarts, and I haven't seen the hours before 9 a.m. in...a while.  And also, I've discovered that my kids are kind of awesome, in a way I couldn't have predicted when they would Houdini-themselves out of their footie pajamas/diapers and smear poop on their bedroom walls.  For sport.

Mike printed out an email that was sent to parents earlier this week, and after dinner tonight, I decided to look it over.  It contained a copy of the school handbook, and the Hogwarts-style riddle they have created to assign the children their daily "specials" (P.E., Art, Music).  In all of our other schools, these classes are typically assigned a day of the week that remains CONSTANT; our new school, however, has created a schedule so complicated and ever-changing, that I *think* they might just be f-ing with me.  For sport.

Seriously.  Does it need to be this hard?  I kind of want to cry about it, but then I remember that one of my friends had to buy 30 GLUE STICKS for ONE of her kids--and even though that's totally unrelated, it makes me laugh at the absurdity of it all.  Laughter IS the best medicine, particularly for curing the part of you that feels like a dumbass before homework even begins.  I'm sure this schedule isn't all that bad, and surely, one of you must determine your child's daily schedule via the constellations or some sort of advanced calculus; if this is the case, please leave a comment, because I need a little 30-glue-stick type of perspective.

I am not really a patterns and sequences sort of gal; rather, I tend to learn by actual, real-life experience, which is just a really mature way of saying I am gonna f-- this up a few times (multiplied by four children), before ultimately just deciding to send my kids in tennis shoes EVERY DAY--which, in case you're wondering, feels a lot like the violent death of my actual soul, in some kind of invisible clothing battle that I have created in my mind.  I will take it very badly, but second grade math with TWINS will ultimately BREAK ME of any ability to make decisions, or decipher scheduling codes on behalf of my children.  Thankfully, this will be around Christmas-time, and my inability to function will result in my children receiving pet ponies. They will see this as a WIN.

Why not just wear the tennis shoes everyday you ask?  Because sequined, fake Uggs for the girls are VERY important to me.  The boys, on the other hand, wear Angry Birds t-shirts on a regular basis, so CLEARLY, I have given up on my fashion standards for them A LONG TIME AGO.

Welcome to the new school year, friends.  Tomorrow resumes a list of errands that was clearly so unimportant, I have ignored them for three months straight; but mama needs a life purpose apart from sunscreen application and lego-play, and so tomorrow begins my adventure in learning to knit (poorly).