For the past two weeks Geoff has been coming undone.
Litanies of "I can't believe summer is almost over" and "I can't believe school starts on August 30th. Why does school have to start and ruin my life?" and "We didn't do anything fun this summer, why didn't we go on a trip or go camping or do anything awesome. This summer sucks" and "I am going to miss summer! I cannot bear for it to end and school to begin..."
and so forth.
and so on.
So for the past several days I've been doing the usual Geoff Prep For Big Changes thing: Talking to him about school, helping him get organized, sorting through the clothes he has to decide what will fit this winter and what will never fit again. The teacher mailed a list of school supplies so I went and bought them and had him pack his bag. We went and got a haircut. It took me three weeks to convince him that he needed one. He looked like Wolverine. I didn't take a before and after picture this time -- I really should have. You would love the transition his hair went through.
He was all ready, supplies, clothes, hair. The whole nine yards. Then the anxiety kicked in for him and the past two days have been frantic.
Two nights ago he said he wasn't going to go, he was never going back to school.
Last night he said he was getting up at 5am so he could be ready and not miss the bus.
I told him "don't. you. dare."
He dared, and he did.
At 5:15 this morning I heard him running through the hall with his shoes on, talking about how he forgot to put gel in his hair. Five Freaking Fifteen. Out of my brain on the Five Fifteen.
I got out of bed and told him that he wasn't allowed to do this. But he was all dressed, all ready, teeth brushed, glasses on. Shoes tied.
So I sent him to sit quietly on the couch, please sit quietly, watch cartoons, read a book. Something. As long as it is quiet.
About ten minutes later I heard him banging around in the kitchen. Making himself breakfast. I didn't know toaster strudel making could possibly be this loud.
Doug's alarm went off ten minutes after that. And I have an incrementally set alarm that goes off at 6, 6:15 and 6:30.
I never did get back to sleep after he ran down the hall. I really wanted another ten minutes of dreaming about that dishy Brian Rosenworcel, but alas. Sigh. Reality. Then, someone opened the kennel door and I had a 20 pound puppy standing on my head.
Reality indeed.
I'm here, fully dressed, fully ready. Jess left at 6:50 to walk up to the bus stop. Brodie and Jack have been played with and Brodie will go back in her kennel after I put Geoff on the bus. I will drive over to the school (he doesn't want a ride - he wants the bus) for the "first day holiday" that they do. I'm parking two streets away and cutting through the woods because, lord knows, there won't be any access anywhere near this building from the front.
And it is four minutes to the bus. He's ready. I'm glad I didn't have to fight to get him out of bed this morning. I just wish he'd chosen to sleep until 6:30.
Gah. Pray for me.
We're off. Seeya.
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