September

My most favouritest month ever. Back to school, man. I loved it. I still love it. I've never been good at creating my own routines, even as a kid. Back-to-school time created them for me. I was one of those kids who thrived in the school environment (not so for lots of my friends, many of whom are way smarter than I am). Sure, I would start getting all anxious, oh, around the second week of August, but it was in that anxious-about-something-good way, like some kids are about Christmas.

Miss B has also been terribly anxious. What if she doesn't like her new classroom? What if there are new kids who are totally mean? What if the older girls kick her off the monkey bars? What if nobody likes her any more? I have assured her that these problems are all either unlikely to occur or easily solved if they do, but still, I'm just a mom, so what do I know?

She's already packed (and unpacked, and packed again) her bookbag, lined up her gym sneakers and indoor shoes, and picked her outfits and hairstyles for the first week and a half. She has made me go over the likely course of events of the first day about fifteen times. She's ready. She's prepped.

And now, we just have to wait. School doesn't customarily start here until the Wednesday after Labour Day, which gives us one last long weekend hurrah every year before we get down to business. Usually we go to Eastport, but it's just too far to travel with three kids in the back seat of a compact car. Both boys are big enough now to reach over and pull Miss B's hair or swipe her glasses, and I am just not spending the better part of two days in a car threatening them this year. So we found a place to camp that's much closer, and still on a beach. I'll report back when we return.

For now, we've got a pile of weekend menu-planning and sacrifices to make to the weather gods, because apparently it's supposed to be on the rainy side. Three wet kids and two wet parents in tents. Awesome or awful? Yeah, I expected as much.

And Miss B, she's up in her room, settling in to her new desk (made by one Hubby C, who is so super I can hardly stand it), and writing stories about the end of summer and the tedium of waiting for school to start. I know I've said it before, but: she is so my kid.