Aaaaaaah! (Or have I said that already?)

Is it Saturday already? No, it's Tuesday, the third Tuesday since I've last blogged.  My gosh, I feel like the world is just whirling on without me, but actually, I'm whirling along without my blog.  I'm actually putting more interest into living life than writing about it, which is good, but I feel sorry for my poor blog.    

Boogaloo at the Pumpkin Patch.  Yes, I know that's not a smile,
but at least she's looking toward the camera.

It's a big pumpkin, but somehow, she's gonna make it!

It's been two weeks since I blogged last, and I'm not gaining any ground.  I've got Netherlands pictures to post, but I haven't got time to go digging for them. I've got quirky comments on being the mom of a preschooler, but I don't remember them when I get home.  And I have pictures from Boogaloo's first pumpkin patch visit, but I haven't even had a chance to turn the sideways ones rightside up.   I'm not sure if it's autumn that has me in a whirl or homecoming or what, but I am too busy.  Saturday morning, I was so tired and distracted that I accidentally closed the garage door before I backed through it.  Car and door are fine, but my plans to help out at the church maintenance drive that fell quite suddenly through.  I figured if I can't get out of the garage safely, I should not be handling a weed whacker. 



Boogaloo and I on the hayride.  See how much she was enjoying herself. 

It's not an easy thing to come to terms with being the mother of a preschooler, and a working mother at that.  Now twelve hours of the week are devoted to getting Boo ready, willing, and where she needs to be and back, and ten hours are devoted to earning the money to pay for it (and to replace my poor Buick).  I don't think I realized how much of our lives that would be or how much I relied on having that time. 

"It's my pumpkin." 

I can't be lazy anymore.  If I want to get aerobics in, I have to get up at 5 am and go running; I can't put on some music at 9:30 and bounce around my living room.  And I have to take the dog with me because otherwise, there isn't enough time for his morning walk.  If I want a nap, I have to set a timer.  If I want to read a book, I grab fifteen minutes between my shower and packing the backpack because it seems like every other minute of the day is booked. 

I have always heard that parents of preschoolers were incredibly busy, but I never quite gave credence to the idea that running one's children to and from would take up a considerable percentage of time.  And then there's the getting ready.  I won't mince words.  Boo really hates the concept of school.  She doesn't mind being there for a little while, but she hates the notion of being there at all.  So getting ready in the mornings is always a matter of dragging feet, going boneless, and making little excuses that come in half sentences and passive aggressive diversions.  She's already figured out how to play sick.  I know what she doesn't like: she doesn't like big groups.  And seeing as the social interaction is the main reason we're sending her to school, there's really no getting around that. 



Of course she's happy.  She suckered me into letting her get a
carameled apple.  I was going for the pumpkin honey. 

There are days when I feel like saying, "Fine.  We just won't go to school today.  Goodness knows you don't like it, and I have things I would rather do (like declutter that corner in the garage or dispose of the dead plants on the patio).  We'll just stay home."  Actually, I have one of those moments every school morning, and it's a bit of a struggle every time.  However, that would set a really bad precedent, both in her mind and mine.  Plus, we've seen some really brilliant progress since she started going to school.  We've had a couple of back and forth conversations this month, and she's spontaneously using phrases that she learned months ago that have been buried until now.  She's more confident with whole sentences, and oh, so many other things that back up my resolution to keep on till the end. 

I'm not sure what she'll say when she realizes that she has to do this again next year.   

Boogaloo sneaks around a corner in the haymaze.  I've seen that look
on her face many a school day morning.