Funny how a distinction created by humans can be a sign portending such spiritual and elemental evaluation. Last day of August. Last days of Summer. Last days of freedom before school. Probably because the dates and the seasons are so cleverly merged with the way our earth tilts and whirls, we react on a chemical level to what we are/would react to anyway, with only a little number on a calendar trigger.
It’s very exciting to get my girlie ready for the sixth grade. I haven’t had the opportunity to usher her through the first days of school for a few years. I’ve already had administrative snags, met the office people trying to clear up the snags, toured the school, and found her classroom. Though I tried to get everything set up for her in May while people were still at the school, when I went to double-check last week, they didn’t have a record of her anywhere. I am so glad I checked! Our bonus gift was that we showed up the day classes and teachers were being assigned, and we learned the name of her new teacher. The next prize was getting a letter from her teacher in the mail yesterday, addressed to her new students and anticipating a fun year ahead.
I just love this stuff. I always loved school, and many of the teachers, and the activities and friends, and clubs and events and sports. Girlie struggles academically, but I hope that she is getting other positive things out of school.
Did some yard work yesterday, because it’s got two things that heal my soul: hard physical labor, and hands in the dirt. Well, ok, it wasn’t entirely a spiritual pursuit. I also really needed to chop back that horrible ivy before we completely lost sight of our sidewalk. I eagerly anticipate the day when all that will be GONE! We would like to terrace the hill in front of our house, and landscape with attractive, non-invasive plants. But for now, I’ll just incessantly hack at the ivy.
We also went to Freddies and bought a new backpack, two pairs of jeans, and a shirt. I can’t BELIEVE she’s wearing a women’s size 1 already, and women’s size 4 shoes. Jeez! My man reminded me that what this really means is that she’ll soon be raiding my closet for clothes. ha ha. She does already actually. She met me at the bus stop after work Friday evening in a darling outfit that included one of my shirts. “Can I just have it, Mom? I really like yellow, and it’s so cute!”
She changes clothes about 4 or 5 times a day. Everything she comes up with is adorable, so I have a hard time getting mad at her for wearing all those clothes. We just decided that she can do her own laundry, and then she can wear whatever she wants and deal with the consequences herself.
Her Saturday chore is to vacuum the whole upstairs (which is a trick to get her to clean her room). Then I had her come out in the street where I was clearing ivy and pick up all the trash out of the gravel in front of our house. She is such a good worker, such a good girl. She never fusses. I have not heard her whine or have a fit about chores yet.
Work is so good for a person’s well-being. Just hard work. Builds up your body, forces you to gulp in the air and get your blood pumping. It builds a satisfying sense of accomplishment. Sometimes you can even see what you accomplished. As I sit here on the couch in my fuzzy jammies next to my kid tearing it up on her DS, the aches and pains in my back and shoulders have erased all guilt I might have felt for sitting somewhat unproductively at the computer.
Conscious Engagement 