I’m out of bread. On the first day of school.
It’s like I gave up before I even started.
This weekend Boy 1 sprained his ankle and busted his toe open, the bathroom sink started leaking, the kids broke the DVD player, and poor Mr. Fantastic got sick and threw up all day.
Our best friends are visiting, and for days now seven children have been hopping on beds, playing endless games of checkers, begging for food or drinks or iPad time, and arguing over who had what first.
The first day of school seems like a breeze in comparison- even without bread for sandwiches.
I keep thinking that Pinterest probably has some fantabulous ideas for the first day of school. There are probably printables for their lunch boxes, special breakfast treats I could whip up, and lists I should have them fill out to commemorate the day.
But to be honest, I don’t care about any of that when I look at three backpacks lined up by the front door.
All I really care about is driving them to school and kissing them one last time before they charge off into their new worlds.
The day will be full of all sorts of fun for them. I want to fill mine with earnest prayers that they will remember they are loved when the commotion lulls or a scary moment comes.
These big kids of ours carry our love with them, and even when they are far from us, we are holding them.
Just in case they forget that, I slipped notes in their lunch boxes to remind them. It’s right next to the applesauce and the crackers, where the sandwich would go if I had any bread.
My note tells them everything they really need to know today:
Internally I am writing myself a note that tells me everything I need to know today. It goes like this:
These are the best years for being a mama. Enjoy the craziness.
P.S. Bread is overrated.
Because the truth is, I’ll never give up, and we have only just begun….
