Back to School Shopping- Chapter One

Remy with her nap mat for school.

I read many a facebook post this past August from the Mom's of teenagers about being at XYZ teen store for clothes...and all the headaches that go with it.  Luckily for me, back to school shopping simply consists of the required school supplies, fall shoes and an outfit for each child.  Not too bad.

The crowds of people out are bad.  The absurdity of trying to find every single supply on the back to school list also...bad.

Nevertheless, its something I must do.  Falls under the job requirements of Mom in our house.

This year, I took the kids out to get everything in two days. At the end of the two days, I decided to take them for a special treat to lunch. 

We went to an actual sit down, waitress ordering type place.  I realized then, it was my first outing of the sorts with the three children and only one parent.  The thought crossed my mind after being seated that maybe it wasn't the best idea.  Maybe Nate would have a breakdown.  Or one of the two (potty trained that is) would have to use the bathroom. 

What I didn't foresee was anyone getting upset.  As we were talking about our summer and back to school, Remy started crying. 

The type of cry where you see fear in her eyes and real sadness in her face.  The heartbreaking type.  She is scared to ride the bus she says.  She wants Jack to hold her hand.  She worries about making it to her classroom okay. 

Meanwhile, and by no means making anything easier for me, Jack is talking about every reason why she should be scared to ride the bus and why he can absolutely not help her through this.  "The first two rows are for kindergarten kids only.  I am in second grade. I have to sit in the 5th row.  Then you have to find your own class line.  You have to look for your teacher and make sure you go to the right place." Thanks Mr. By-The-Books.  Maybe someday it will change, but for now, Jack is not the older brother-I-will-look-out-for-you-type. 

My heart is totally broken by now.  I want to reach across the table and cry myself.  I want to tell her that everything is okay but also that I DO NOT WANT HER TO GO EITHER.  Maybe home schooling is for us...maybe we can turn back time and have her be two again.  Anything. 

I know this is not possible.  Instead I have to take the supportive role and convince her just how fun this year will be.  How wonderful riding the bus will be.  And how proud I am of her. 

The tears stop.

We finish eating.

I cant believe that in a week my baby will be in kindergarten.  I tell myself, at least I am not at Abercrombie and Fitch looking for skinny jeans.